Betting on Decentralization

Notes After Three Decades of Watching Alternatives Get Captured.

In The Boomer Mirage and You’ll Own Nothing (and Be Happy). They’ll Own Everything (and Be Ecstatic), I wrote about how fiat systems captured money, institutions, and culture. In From Fiat Everything to Real Everything, I explored what resistance looks like in the “real world,” but I got lots of comments and emails asking about the digital side. So much of our lives are online, so how do we navigate that? The answer, I believe, lies in truly decentralized infrastructure – though getting there requires learning from decades of failed attempts.

Early Lessons in Systematic Capture

In the early 2000s, after selling our company to Ask Jeeves in the late 90s and serving on their management team as young entrepreneurs, my childhood friend and longtime business partner and I witnessed something remarkable emerging. Search engines were becoming this massive, transformative force, but most businesses had no idea how to adapt to it or use it effectively to attract customers. We saw an opportunity to help them navigate this new landscape, so we started our own search marketing business. We had fallen in love with the category at Ask so we leveraged our experience to build software and services to help companies harness its power. We perceived advertising as a blight on the world – it interrupted people all day with messages they didn’t ask to see and shifted free markets to behave irrationally with empty promises. We believed we’d found the perfect solution to advertising’s intrusion. Search felt elegantly different. People only saw ads for things they were actively looking for, and marketers only paid when someone clicked. What we didn’t realize was that what we thought was just helping people find a needle in a haystack was really doing our tiny part in building a Trojan horse that essentially functioned as a surveillance machine.

We thought we were going to kill traditional advertising, but instead Google swallowed the entire category. Companies like ours became a part of a cottage industry, which is what monopolies do – they don’t crush you, they relegate you. They ensure there are just lots of small and medium sized companies doing what we did under their thumb rather than allowing independent industries to emerge. The company was successful by typical business and financial metrics. Ultimately, we sold to a big, shitty ad agency holding company – there was a strong economic outcome for my partner, me, and our leadership team who had equity, but our idealistic vision was crushed. So much for disruption.

What I didn’t understand then was that we weren’t just competing against better technology or business models – we were up against something far more systematic. I’ve documented elsewhere the troubling patterns of connection between major tech platforms and intelligence agencies: Google’s origins in DARPA funding, Amazon founder’s family connections to early internet infrastructure development, Facebook’s launch coinciding with the Pentagon’s LifeLog project shutdown, or the systematic hiring of former CIA and NSA employees across Big Tech platforms – and I didn’t even get into Oracle’s ties to the CIA or the fact that the Stanford Research Institute built Apple’s Siri platform.

While these relationships don’t definitively prove the platforms were designed as surveillance operations from inception (though I believe they were), they demonstrate how thoroughly the intelligence apparatus has penetrated the companies controlling our information flow. Whether by design or opportunistic capture, the pattern suggests something far more coordinated than simple market competition. The Twitter Files later revealed how routinely government agencies coordinated with social media platforms on content moderation, demonstrating just how integrated these relationships had become.

Decades of Attempted Disintermediation

The pattern of promising alternatives getting absorbed would repeat throughout my career. I eventually stepped away from the day-to-day tech industry, wanting to try something more tied to the real world. But I was still absolutely smitten with the promise of the web – that creators could reach people directly without middlemen taking a cut or controlling access – so I kept one toe in by investing and advising internet startups, still looking for that elusive alternative that might actually work. What I thought would democratize information became a tool for monitoring and manipulating it. Then the Snowden revelations hit in 2013 and it became even more apparent. Worse, the idealistic DIY ethos was being replaced by something that felt like the bastard child of Hollywood and Wall Street – not the internet I’d fallen in love with. Still, there were founders working on ambitious and interesting projects.

I spent years in the late aughts through the mid-teens looking for tools and platforms that would empower individuals and bypass intermediaries. The companies I got involved with during that era read like a catalog of attempted disintermediation:

See.me, essentially a digital busking jar for creatives that allowed people to tip into their digital wallets. The idea was sound, but the infrastructure wasn’t ready. Bondsy tried to create a social network for trading, giving away and selling material items within your extended friend network – friends of friends – removing the need to deal with random Craigslist strangers. Again, brilliant concept, wrong timing.

DuckDuckGo for private search that committed to not tracking their users, Betaworks (where I played an entrepreneur in residence role while they built things like TweetDeck, Bitly, SocialFlow, and Summize which became Twitter search) building on Twitter’s briefly open APIs, AngelList empowering founders to raise money without the baggage of traditional VCs, eToro for social trading that would let retail investors copy professional strategies directly, 3rd Ward for builders in real life, KitchenSurfing connecting chefs directly with diners without needing a restaurant, Udemy for education without institutional gatekeepers, and Kickstarter for funding creative projects without needing approval from traditional investors, studios, or publishers.

Every single one was betting on removing middlemen and enabling direct creator-to-audience value exchange. Some were more successful than others, but here’s what I learned: without truly decentralized infrastructure, every successful ‘disruptor’ eventually becomes the new middleman. Even DuckDuckGo, while maintaining its privacy mission, is still a centralized company that could theoretically be pressured or acquired. I remain a shareholder but was deeply disappointed when they blocked Russian information sources after the war in Ukraine started – a reminder that even well-intentioned centralized services can become censors.

The brutal lesson was that these companies could all be captured through acquisition, regulation, economic pressure from partners, or technical shutdown by payment processors and hosting providers. The intelligence connections may help explain why: previous “disruptive” alternatives weren’t just competing in free markets – they were facing systematic capture strategies from state-backed operations with unlimited resources.

Sometimes the definition of insanity is trying the same thing and expecting different results. Could I be getting fooled again? I keep falling for new promises that technology could empower individuals over institutions. Maybe I’m a slow learner, but I usually get there eventually – and each cycle has taught me something about how capture actually works.

Despite everything, I kept falling for each new wave of internet promises.

Web 1.0 promised that information would be freely accessible to anyone with an internet connection. I had this idealistic vision that some kid growing up in a remote village across the world could have the same access to information I had growing up in the suburbs of New York. Sure, you could create Geocities pages, message boards like The Well, and early blogs, but the real promise was about access – democratizing information rather than democratizing publishing. As a young man I was wide-eyed and impossibly naive about how this would play out, but that idealistic spirit never quite died.

Web 2.0 delivered on the “read/write” web – suddenly everyone could publish, not just consume. Blogs, wikis, social networks, video sharing – ordinary people became content creators and curators. The promise was that we’d all become publishers, collaborators, and participants rather than just passive consumers. It was relatively interoperable at first – APIs were open, data could move between services. But the platforms that emerged as winners became new bottlenecks. Facebook and Twitter emerged as major players alongside Google, Microsoft and Amazon. The natural path for startups shifted from going public in Web 1.0 to getting acquired by the giants in Web 2.0. Instagram, WhatsApp and Oculus went to Facebook. YouTube, Android and DoubleClick went to Google. Skype and LinkedIn went to Microsoft.

Web 3.0 was supposed to be the “ownership” web – the holy grail where users would actually control their digital assets, data, and identities instead of renting them from platforms. Blockchain technology promised true interoperability, censorship resistance, and the ability to take your digital life with you across applications. Watching my kids play video games, I saw how naturally they understood in-game currencies, trading virtual assets, and swapping between different game economies. I realized this generation would intuitively grasp these concepts that seemed foreign to older users. It seemed obvious where things were being steered, so I wanted to try to understand it, if only to better understand the world my children were growing up in

My Bitcoin maximalist friends breathed fire at me, insisting all that Web 3.0 stuff was frivolous and didn’t matter as long as the money was broken. Sure, you can build interesting cross-chain technology and token reward programs on these other networks, but what’s the point if there’s no sound money layer underneath it all? I’m still interested in the idea of a composable web and the possibilities that could bring but it finally became evident to me that Bitcoin has to be the foundation. This hit me like a ton of bricks in 2021 when I saw all the covid fuckery firsthand. The argument my maxi friends were making finally felt urgent. I flipped all my other tokens for Bitcoin.

Understanding this progression helps explain why I kept believing each wave would be different, and why each promised solution to the previous era’s centralization problems ultimately faced the same capture mechanisms.

Retreat to the Physical World

After watching digital alternatives repeatedly get absorbed by the systems they were trying to replace, I became disillusioned and wanted something more tied to the physical world. I still loved the promise of technology, so I stayed selectively – and loosely – involved, but I also wanted to build something local and tangible – something that brought people together in person rather than through screens. I wanted to be tethered to my local community and deal in a physical product – something real you could hold in your hands. I thought beer might be the intersection of those things, so I started a brewery. After all, public houses have played a role for centuries as places where people gather to discuss ideas, art, and celebrate life more broadly. It was a fun midlife crisis project – until it wasn’t.

The covid-era showed me that even small businesses aren’t safe. Government mandates can shut you down overnight, inflation forces constant price increases, and small businesses get hit hardest because they can’t navigate regulatory compliance costs or survive sudden policy changes the way large corporations can. Most disturbingly, we were asked to require people to show medical documentation to participate in basic commerce and social life. Small businesses became enforcement mechanisms for state control.

It’s not lost on me that this story is a bit cliche – another tech entrepreneur discovers Bitcoin after getting disillusioned. But covid shook me to my core in ways I’m still processing. It wasn’t abstract theory anymore – it was happening to people I knew, businesses I’d built relationships with. The brewery became a case study in how even physical businesses aren’t immune to centralized control.

This realization goes far beyond my personal journey. The capture process I witnessed affects anyone trying to build genuine alternatives. Whether you’re a tech founder, a local business owner, or just a citizen trying to maintain basic autonomy, the same patterns emerge: initial promise, growing success, then systematic pressure through regulation, payment processing, or outright shutdown. Understanding this pattern matters because it reveals why previous solutions failed and what any successful alternative needs to be structurally resistant to.

The brewery experience taught me that you can’t just retreat to the “real world” – centralized control reaches everywhere. But it also showed me what structural resistance might look like: systems that can’t be shut down by decree, can’t be captured through regulatory pressure, and don’t depend on third-party permission to operate. Physical businesses will always be vulnerable to local enforcement. Digital protocols, if truly decentralized, might not be.

This realization reframes everything. I wasn’t someone who couldn’t build successful companies – I was trying to build alternatives to a surveillance apparatus that had unlimited funding and coordinated strategies for co-opting threats. Every promising technology that could decentralize power gets identified early and either acquired, regulated, or undermined. The game was rigged from the start, but at the time, I didn’t know we were playing against the house.

Centralization is the cage. Whether it’s payment processors controlling who can transact, social media algorithms determining what information we see, or app stores deciding which software we can install – concentrated power creates concentrated control. I watched brilliant ideas get swallowed by the very systems they were trying to replace because they were built on infrastructure that could be captured.

What the last few years have finally shown me is that this isn’t just about technology – it’s about how any tool powerful enough to threaten existing control structures gets captured, regulated, or undermined unless it’s structurally resistant to these mechanisms.

Maybe what I missed in all my earlier projects was focusing on individual applications rather than the infrastructure question that makes capture possible in the first place.

The Control Grid Emerges

The Canadian truckers protest was a wake-up call for many of us. Watching PayPal, Stripe, and banks cut off funding to protesters made the abstract benefits of decentralization suddenly concrete. These weren’t just ideological concerns anymore – payment processor censorship became very real, an immediate threat to anyone who might find themselves on the wrong side of the prevailing narrative. If it can happen to truckers in Ottawa, it can happen to any of us. Broader censorship across media, medicine, and social platforms made it clear that centralized control was being weaponized against all forms of dissent.

This isn’t isolated to major political protests. Those same control mechanisms now target individuals, too. Content creator 

Efrat Fenigsonrecently documented being simultaneously debanked by Stripe for her Israeli business registration, blocked from credit card transactions by SMS verification systems that don’t work with modern travel patterns, and banned from Telegram without explanation. Her experience shows how quickly the financial control grid can tighten around anyone who doesn’t conform perfectly to algorithmic compliance standards.

I personally experienced this friction just a few days ago. I went to the bank after my wires kept failing online – I was flagged trying to send money for a Bitcoin-related project. While the teller was helping me sort it out, another customer at the branch was freaking out, yelling because they wouldn’t let him send his money to Coinbase. After he stormed off, the teller confided: “Chase doesn’t like it when people send money to crypto exchanges.” Cool, thanks for letting us know it’s actually your money. As William Gibson said, “The future is already here, it’s just not evenly distributed” – some of us are experiencing the technocratic jail while others remain unaware.

I felt this financial system fragility as collateral damage during Operation Choke Point 2.0 in 2022. I was negotiating a potential sale of the brewery when five banks collapsed, including the one financing the prospective acquirer. The deal evaporated along with the bank. Even someone trying to exit a physical business completely unrelated to crypto got caught in the broader financial system instability.

What we’re witnessing isn’t just payment processing friction – it’s the infrastructure for comprehensive behavioral control. Historian Yuval Noah Harari explains how technology now enables something unprecedented in human history:

The Technical Challenge of Alternatives

Most people don’t realize the control grid is already here and many of us are already searching for alternatives. But Bitcoin and Nostr currently require technical confidence that intimidates most users (including me!). Managing seed phrases, understanding multisig wallets, or verifying relays – these concepts feel as foreign to most people today as command-line interfaces did in the 1980s. It’s like being offered a lifeboat that requires sailing experience when the ship is already taking on water. It’s reminiscent of the old homebrew computer days – early adopters had to learn technical details that were later abstracted away for mass adoption.

The irony is that our convenience culture makes decentralized alternatives both necessary and difficult to adopt. As I explored in The Price of Convenience, we’ve traded autonomy for ease of use to such an extent that managing private keys or understanding cryptographic verification feels impossibly complex. Yet this same dependency is exactly why we need systems that can’t be turned off by third parties. The challenge isn’t just technical – it’s cultural. We need to participate in these systems rather than just counting on them to work. That means accepting some inconvenience and learning curve instead of expecting others to make everything seamless for us.

Perhaps “trustless” was never realistic for complex systems. The real value is trust-minimization through redundancy – multiple independent implementations rather than monopolies, exit options that let you switch clients without losing data, open source enabling independent audits even if most users can’t perform them, and competitive dynamics preventing monopolistic control over protocol evolution. We’re not eliminating trust, we’re distributing it among competing parties rather than concentrating it in single institutions.

I owned Bitcoin for years because I loved the idea and saw it as a hedge against monetary debasement, but until the blatant covid clampdown I never felt personally threatened by censorship or understood why that aspect mattered so much. That’s when I started paying serious attention to Lightning and protocols like Nostr. For the first time, I was seeing infrastructure that might actually be capture-resistant rather than just capture-inconvenient.

Why Decentralized Protocols Matter

A recurring theme in my research has been documenting how our reality has become increasingly fabricated – fake money disconnected from any real backing, fake medicine that treats symptoms rather than addresses root causes of illness, fake food engineered in laboratories, fake news coordinated across platforms, fake wars fought for banking interests (remember, all wars are banker wars), fake culture manufactured by algorithms. The trend is undeniable: we live in an increasingly fiat world where the premise is artificial even when the consequences are real.

This is why truly decentralized protocols matter – unlike centralized systems that can be captured and corrupted, they’re built to resist the control mechanisms I’ve watched destroy every other alternative. They represent a return to authenticity. Instead of platforms that extract data and attention to sell to corporations who ultimately suck your soul, they enable direct value exchange between real people. Instead of algorithms designed to maximize engagement and ad revenue, they allow users to choose what they see and share. Instead of manufactured consensus, they allow real market forces and authentic human expression. Decentralization breeds what centralization destroys: real identity ownership, genuine economic exchange, and organic community formation. They’re potentially the first technological infrastructure that’s more resistant to capture or engineering from the top down.

For those unfamiliar with Nostr, it’s a way to sign messages cryptographically so you own your identity and data across any application built on the protocol. Think of it as giving you a permanent digital identity that no platform can delete or control. This isn’t just a Twitter replacement, though it’s often framed that way – it’s a protocol that could potentially power everything from publishing platforms (like Substack) to professional networks (like LinkedIn) to creative marketplaces where artists connect directly to fans, to educational platforms, to news networks that can’t be silenced by advertisers or governments.

Your followers, content history, and reputation are tied to your cryptographic key, not a server. On Twitter, if they delete your account, you lose everything – your followers, your content, your digital reputation. With Nostr, your followers follow your key, not a platform account. If one Nostr client censors you, you switch to another and keep all your connections and content.

With built-in monetization through “zaps” – direct Bitcoin Lightning payments between users – creators can earn directly without platform intermediaries extracting large fees or controlling reach. This eliminates the advertising model that corrupts incentives – creators earn directly from their audience rather than competing for algorithmic attention that serves advertisers. No intermediary can demonetize you, shadow-ban your content, or take a cut of your earnings.

The protocol represents something genuinely different from the projects I’d explored before. Frankly, it’s what Twitter could’ve and should’ve been in the first place. Unlike Facebook or Apple or Microsoft, no single entity can shut down or manipulate the entire network. The data and social graphs belong to users, not platforms.

I signed up for Nostr in 2023 but barely used it because I found it intimidating and filled mostly with people talking about Bitcoin – like the early days of Twitter when everyone just talked about Twitter. That can be super interesting but not the hub I wanted to tie all my time to, especially when I’m exploring all the wild ideas I often ponder about in this space.

I’m not claiming Nostr is ready for mainstream adoption – it’s not. The user experience has very jagged edges and most people expect polish these early protocols lack. Still, brilliant entrepreneurs are experimenting with this stuff while it’s still malleable, hopefully before network effects lock in designs that might recreate the same problems we’re trying to escape. If the onboarding experience can be simplified without compromising the underlying decentralization, this could finally deliver on the internet’s original promise of user-controlled digital identity and communications.

Even if Nostr isn’t the final answer, it feels like we’re heading in the right direction toward that foundational identity layer. The principle of truly decentralized infrastructure with built-in value transfer seems inevitable, whether through this protocol or something that builds on these ideas.

The timing feels significant. Trust in institutions is at all-time lows – not just in tech platforms, but in centralized medicine, media, education, and government. People are increasingly aware of the dangers of centralized authorities deciding what’s acceptable to say, think, or do, and there’s growing demand for alternatives that can’t be easily captured or controlled.

Honest Risk Assessment

But I’ve been burned before, so let me be honest about what I perceive as the main risks – and why I’m still learning alongside everyone else:

Technical vulnerabilities: Bitcoin faces real technical risks from quantum computing to energy consumption concerns. Even thoughtful observers remain unconvinced – not just about technical limitations, but about whether it represents genuine decentralization or sophisticated capture. If quantum computing breaks SHA-256 or there are unknown cryptographic backdoors, Bitcoin’s scarcity could prove artificial. But honestly, if we’re living in a world where those systems fail catastrophically, what alternatives are we left with anyway? The choice isn’t between Bitcoin and some perfect system – it’s between Bitcoin and continuing with systems we know for sure are captured.

Social capture: Even if Nostr is technically decentralized, network effects could recreate centralization through social dynamics. If everyone follows the same influencers and uses the same clients because they’re most reliable or popular, you get functional centralization despite technical decentralization. When a few major influencers control most discovery and conversation, you get attention centralization even on a decentralized protocol. The infrastructure stays open, but most users still end up in the same filter bubbles, following the same voices, seeing the same content. A few popular relays might become de facto gatekeepers – I’ve seen this movie before with supposedly “open” protocols.

Infrastructure dependencies: The “exit to fiat” problem remains crucial – though Bitcoin maximalists would argue the goal is to make this conversion unnecessary as Bitcoin payments gain adoption. Lightning Network shows promise despite criticism, but we’re still far from mainstream payment adoption. For mass adoption to work, we need better on-ramps and off-ramps. Many Bitcoin advocates argue for going ‘all in’ – minimizing exposure to traditional finance entirely – but that requires a level of commitment most people aren’t ready for. Until then, traditional banks can still cut off crypto alternatives at the entry and exit points, keeping these systems as hobbyist toys for most people. Key management remains a major UX barrier that could prevent mass adoption. Even if the technology works perfectly, getting enough people to switch from existing platforms is enormously difficult – network effects are incredibly powerful.

Capital and state capture: Institutional capital is already flowing into Bitcoin and Nostr applications, and my experience shows how funding can shift dynamics from user empowerment toward shareholder value. Some of the smartest, most skeptical people I know point to sophisticated plans to wrap Bitcoin in ETFs that create paper claims divorced from actual Bitcoin, or to siphon demand into dollar-backed stablecoins that preserve USD hegemony while appearing to embrace crypto adoption. Governments can still apply pressure through app stores, internet service providers, and payment processors. If they decide these technologies threaten “national security,” they could attempt outright bans.

I’d be remiss not to address the energy concerns, which are legitimate worries for many thoughtful people, though I’d argue it’s ultimately about what we choose to value – why is securing a monetary network less worthy than other energy uses? The volatility argument against Bitcoin as practical money also deserves mention, though most sound money in history settled in as a store of value before becoming a medium of exchange.

I don’t have definitive answers to these risks. What I have is pattern recognition from watching every other alternative get captured, and a sense that these particular technologies might be structurally different enough to resist those mechanisms. The learning curve is steep, the outcome uncertain, but the alternative – accepting permanent capture – feels worse.

The most skeptical people I know struggle to explain how the 21 million cap could be increased or how the fundamental system could be corrupted without broad consensus – when pressed, their concerns often reveal assumptions rooted in fiat monetary systems rather than Bitcoin’s actual mechanics. The real question isn’t whether Bitcoin is perfect, but whether it’s more resistant to the mechanisms that have captured every alternative we’ve tried.

Beyond Digital: The Broader Decentralization Imperative

Decentralization isn’t just about protocols and cryptography. It’s about using digital tools to help us connect with resources – and one another – in real life. The opposite of globalism is localism, and technology should serve that end rather than replace it. Projects like the Beef Initiative connect people directly with regenerative ranchers, while platforms like Farmmatch help bypass industrial agriculture middlemen entirely. Bitcoin and Nostr are digital reflections of the same principle that drives farmers’ markets, neighborhood co-ops, and independent businesses: cut out the middlemen, reclaim agency. These digital tools should strengthen local communities rather than isolate us from them.

Yet even if these systems succeed, they might create new problems we haven’t anticipated. Could decentralized systems lead to social fragmentation or make coordination for public goods harder? Could technical literacy become the new dividing line for inequality? These are real concerns, but something fundamental is shifting. When intelligence agencies can shape what billions see in their social feeds, when payment processors can cut off dissidents, when search algorithms determine what counts as “truth” – you can’t have genuine political or economic freedom under such concentrated control of information. We need to fight for freedom of consciousness through decentralized information systems before we can meaningfully address financial stability or social coordination.

What’s really at stake isn’t just financial freedom or platform independence – it’s cognitive sovereignty. When a handful of companies control what billions see in their feeds, they’re not just managing information flow, they’re shaping consciousness itself. The algorithms don’t just show us content; they train us how to think, what to value, how to relate to others. We’re living through the first era in human history where our inner lives are being systematically engineered by machines optimized for engagement rather than flourishing. The centralized control of information represents the industrialization of human attention – and ultimately, the mechanization of meaning-making itself. Decentralized protocols aren’t just technical solutions; they’re tools for reclaiming the right to think our own thoughts.

I do realize there’s something counterintuitive about relying on more technology to reach authentic solutions. But these decentralized systems aren’t just tech – they’re mathematics. Cryptographic proofs and distributed consensus don’t lie or get corrupted the way human institutions do. We all can’t be Amish, so if we’re going to embrace modernity, the future might look like a bit sci-fi and a bit like the past – combining cutting-edge cryptography with old-fashioned self-reliance. We either cultivate these skills or unplug entirely.

A Cautiously Optimistic Conclusion

Maybe I’m wrong about Bitcoin and Nostr. Maybe there are better alternatives I haven’t considered, or maybe these technologies will face capture dynamics I can’t anticipate. After 30 years of falling for promises of decentralization, I maintain healthy skepticism about my own judgment.

But here’s what I know: after watching every other promising technology get captured, and seeing the control grid tighten around both digital and physical businesses, I haven’t seen a more credible path toward preserving individual autonomy. The window for building alternatives feels like it’s narrowing. The infrastructure control systems are accelerating – from my flagged Bitcoin wire to Efrat’s simultaneous debanking across platforms. The brewery experience showed me how quickly ‘temporary’ measures become permanent, how regular people became compliance enforcers for state control

If someone has a better solution than learning to use cryptographically secured, decentralized protocols, I’m genuinely listening. But I can’t wait for the perfect answer while the ship takes on water. The choice isn’t between Bitcoin/Nostr and some ideal system – it’s between learning imperfect tools that might preserve some autonomy versus accepting permanent dependence on systems designed to control us.

This isn’t hysteria, it’s pattern recognition. I’ve seen this movie too many times. The infrastructure finally exists to deliver on the internet’s original promise of decentralized, peer-to-peer communication and commerce. Whether we can actually build that world depends on whether enough people are willing to do the hard work of learning these systems before they’re no longer available to us.

Maybe these systems will fail too. But they’re the best alternative I’ve seen to-date. And if it doesn’t work – if the system is so rigged that even cryptographically secured, decentralized protocols can be co-opted – then we’re probably all fucked anyway.

Maybe that’s not the most optimistic way to end an essay about the future of the internet. But after decades of watching promising alternatives get swallowed by the systems they were trying to replace, a little skeptical humility feels appropriate.

For what it’s worth, I’m more hopeful than I’ve been in a long time. The transition ahead will be difficult – these new systems require steep learning curves and personal accountability that our convenience culture has trained us to avoid. But I’m convinced centralization is the root of so much we’re fighting across every domain. To become truly sovereign, we need to do the hard work of learning these systems ourselves rather than trusting others to manage them for us.

For readers ready to take that step, consider starting small – and remember, I have zero qualifications to give financial advice, so this isn’t that: Download a Nostr client like Damus or Primal and experiment with owning your identity cryptographically. Try moving a small amount of Bitcoin to a hardware wallet to understand what self-custody actually means. Find a local farmer or rancher to support. Build redundancy in your money, skills, and community connections. These aren’t solutions – they’re experiments in building systems that can’t be turned off by third parties. The learning curve is the point – it’s what creates real independence from systems designed to keep us dependent.

https://stylman.substack.com/p/why-im-betting-on-decentralization