Ken Chang recently published an article titled "I Wasted Eight Years of My Life in Cryptocurrency," in which he lamented the inherent capital destruction and financial nihilism of the industry.
People in the crypto space love to ridicule such "dramatic exit" articles and gleefully recount the stories of historical figures like Mike Hearn or Jeff Garzik who made high-profile departures (while never failing to point out how much Bitcoin has risen since they left).
But Ken's article is largely correct. He said:
Cryptocurrency claimed it would help decentralize the financial system, and I once believed it deeply. But the reality is, it is just a super system for speculation and gambling, essentially a replica of the current economy. Reality hit me like a truck: I wasn't building a new financial system; I built a casino. A casino that doesn't call itself a casino, yet it is the largest, 24/7, multiplayer online casino our generation has ever built.
Ken pointed out that VCs have burned tens of billions of dollars funding various new public chains, and we clearly don't need that many. This is true, although his description of the incentive model is slightly off (VCs are essentially conduits for capital—overall, they only do what their limited partners are willing to tolerate). Ken also criticized the proliferation of perpetual and spot DEXs, prediction markets, meme coin launch platforms, etc. Indeed, while you can defend these concepts on an abstract level (except for meme coin launch platforms, which are indefensible), it's undeniable that their proliferation is solely because the market incentivizes it, and VCs are willing to pay for it.
Ken said he entered the crypto space with idealistic aspirations and stars in his eyes. This is familiar to participants in this field: he had libertarian leanings. But in the end, he didn't practice libertarian ideals; instead, he built a casino. Specifically, he is best known for his work on Ribbon Finance, a protocol that allows users to deposit assets into vaults and earn yield by systematically selling options.
I don't want to sound too harsh, but it is what it is. If it were me, I would also engage in deep reflection. When the conflict between principles and work became unbearable, Ken reached his pessimistic conclusion: cryptocurrency is a casino, not a revolution.
What struck me deeply was that it reminded me of the article Mike Hearn wrote nearly a decade ago. Hearn wrote:
Why did Bitcoin fail? Because the community behind it failed. It was supposed to be a new type of decentralized currency, without "systemically important institutions," without "too big to fail," but it became something worse: a system entirely controlled by a few people. Worse yet, the network is on the verge of technical collapse. The mechanisms that were supposed to prevent this have failed, so there is little reason to believe Bitcoin can truly be better than the existing financial system.
The details differ, but the argument is consistent. Bitcoin/cryptocurrency was supposed to be one thing (decentralized, cypherpunk practice), but it turned into something else (a casino, centralized). Both agree: it ultimately did not prove better than the existing financial system.
Hearn and Ken's arguments can be summarized in one sentence: cryptocurrency initially had a purpose, but it ultimately went astray. So we have to ask: what is the purpose of cryptocurrency?
Five Goals of Cryptocurrency
In my view, there are roughly five camps, which are not mutually exclusive. Personally, I most identify with the first and fifth camps, but I have empathy for all. However, I am not dogmatic about any, not even the hardcore Bitcoin camp.
Restoring Sound Money
This was the original dream, shared by most (though not all) early Bitcoin players. The idea is that, over time, Bitcoin will pose a competitive threat to the monetary privileges of many sovereign states, possibly even replacing fiat currency and bringing us back to a new gold standard-like order. This camp typically views everything else in the crypto space as distractions and scams, merely riding Bitcoin's coattails. Needless to say, Bitcoin has made limited progress at the sovereign state level, but in just 15 years, it has come far enough as a significant monetary asset. Adherents of this view live in a constant state of disillusionment and hope, with near-delusional expectations that widespread Bitcoin adoption is just around the corner.
Encoding Business Logic with Smart Contracts
This view, championed by Vitalik Buterin and most of the Ethereum camp, posits: since we can digitize money, we can express various transactions and contracts in code, making the world more efficient and fair. To Bitcoin maximalists, this was once heresy. But it has found success in certain narrow areas, especially those easily expressed mathematically, like derivatives.
Making Digital Property Rights Real
This is my summary of the "Web3" or "read-write-own" philosophy. The idea is not without merit: digital property rights should be as real and reliable as physical property rights. However, its practices—NFTs, Web3 social—have either gone completely astray or, to put it politely, were born at the wrong time. Despite billions of dollars invested, few now defend this philosophy. But I still think there is something worth pondering. I believe many of our current internet dilemmas stem from not truly "owning" our online identities and spaces, nor having effective control over who we interact with and content distribution. I believe we will eventually regain sovereignty over our digital property, and blockchain will likely play a role. It's just that the timing isn't right yet.
Improving Capital Market Efficiency
This is the least ideological of the five goals. Not many get excited about securities settlement, COBOL, SWIFT, or wire transfer windows. But regardless, this is a real driving force behind a significant part of the crypto industry. The logic is: the Western financial system is built on an outdated tech stack, extremely difficult to upgrade due to path dependency (no one dares easily replace core infrastructure handling trillions in daily settlements), so it has long needed an update. This update must come from outside the system and adopt a completely new architecture. The value here is mostly in efficiency gains and potential consumer surplus, making it less exciting.
Expanding Global Financial Inclusion
Finally, there are passionate individuals who see cryptocurrency as an inclusive technology, providing low-cost financial infrastructure globally—for some, even their first access to financial services. This means enabling people to self-custody crypto assets (more commonly stablecoins now), access tokenized securities or money market funds, obtain credit cards issued based on crypto wallets or exchange accounts, and be treated equally on the financial internet. This is a very real phenomenon, and its superficial success offers solace to many disillusioned idealists.
Pragmatic Optimism
So, who is right? The idealists or the pessimists? Or is there a third possibility?
I could go on at length about how bubbles always accompany major technological changes, how bubbles actually catalyze the construction of useful infrastructure, and how cryptocurrency is especially speculative precisely because it is financial technology, but that would be somewhat self-consoling.
My real answer is: maintaining pragmatic optimism is the correct attitude. Whenever you despair over the crypto casino, you must hold onto this tightly. Speculation, mania, and capital extraction should be understood as inevitable yet unpleasant side effects of building useful infrastructure. It comes with real human costs, which I don't mean to downplay. The normalization of meme coins, pointless gambling, and financial nihilism among young people is particularly frustrating and socially unhelpful. But this is a (negative) side effect inevitably produced by building capital markets on permissionless rails. I see no other way; you just have to accept it as part of how blockchains operate. And you can choose not to participate.
The key is: cryptocurrency has its goals, and it's completely normal to harbor ideals about it. It is this purpose that motivates thousands of people to dedicate their careers to this industry.
It's just that it might not be as exciting as you imagined.
The world is unlikely to suddenly fully embrace Bitcoin. NFTs haven't revolutionized digital ownership. Capital markets are slowly moving on-chain. Besides the dollar, we haven't tokenized many assets. No authoritarian regime has fallen because ordinary people hold crypto wallets. Smart contracts are mainly used for derivatives, with little else. To date, the only applications with product-market fit are limited to Bitcoin, stablecoins, DEXs, and prediction markets. Yes, much of the value created may be captured by large companies or eventually returned to consumers in the form of efficiency gains and cost savings.
Therefore, the real challenge is to maintain an optimism rooted in realistic possibilities, rather than indulging in blind, optimistic fantasies. If you believe in a libertarian utopia, the gap between expectation and reality will eventually lead to disillusionment. As for the casino effect, unrestrained token issuance, and rampant speculation, these should be seen as ugly warts on the industry's underbelly—difficult to remove but objectively present. If you believe the costs brought by blockchain now outweigh its benefits, then choosing disillusionment is completely reasonable. But in my view, the current situation is actually better than ever. We have more evidence than ever before that we are on the right path.
Just remember that goal.
