For years, skeptics of cryptocurrency have been puzzled: what does it all mean? Meanwhile, cryptocurrency supporters tirelessly search for compelling answers. They firmly believe that blockchain, as the technological cornerstone of cryptocurrency and many similar applications, is a groundbreaking innovation. It cleverly achieves precise records of online ownership and strongly propels the flourishing rise of digital communities. Moreover, they argue that blockchain is the core element in building and supporting the third generation of hyper-financialized internet. In this new internet era, without any human intermediaries, you can easily purchase a digital artwork of an ape cartoon for $3.4 million.
Then there are the cryptocurrencies themselves: Bitcoin, Ethereum, and the ever-emerging Memecoins and startup tokens. These are mostly highly volatile and speculative assets—some people trade them, release parody content, store value, and sometimes strike it rich overnight, but they can also lead to total financial ruin. At the same time, they are often used for illegal activities, such as notorious money laundering, illicitly funding startups, and orchestrating complex financial scams. Nevertheless, cryptocurrency does have its applications. Yet, the long-standing skepticism surrounding it lies in the fact that this technology is overly complex and does not provide functionalities that the modern financial system cannot achieve—in other words, for those not intending to use it for criminal purposes, cryptocurrency is a technology looking for problems to solve.
I tend to agree with this perspective. I have spent time reporting on NFTs and decentralized autonomous organizations (DAOs) based on crypto tokens, like the one that attempted to purchase a copy of the (U.S. Constitution) in 2021. I have also read some obscure white papers from Web3 startups and decentralized finance protocols (DeFi) that leverage smart contracts to execute financial service transactions without large banks. However, I have never found the so-called 'killer app.'
However, after the presidential election, I have had a different reflection on the influence of cryptocurrency.
Cryptocurrency, as an innovation in the tech field, has an influence that extends far beyond a single service area, giving rise to a unique cultural atmosphere. This culture harbors an inherent distrust of traditional institutions while resonating to some extent with those who seek to challenge or dismantle these institutions. Recent election results, to some extent, represent a questioning of the authority of traditional institutions (such as the federal government, public health system, and media), and the cryptocurrency industry has played a facilitating role in this process. The industry established a super PAC called 'Fairshake,' raising over $200 million to support politicians who are friendly towards cryptocurrency, regardless of whether they come from the Democratic or Republican parties.
Notably, Donald Trump has shown great enthusiasm for cryptocurrency technology. During his campaign, he not only heavily promoted a new cryptocurrency platform focused on decentralized finance (DeFi) called 'World Liberty Financial' but also vowed to oust Gary Gensler, the chairman of the SEC, who has come under public scrutiny for the strict regulation of the cryptocurrency industry. Gensler's resignation plan is set for January, which is typically a routine operation when a new government takes office.
Moreover, Trump has promised to loosen regulatory policies to make 'America the global center of cryptocurrency and a superpower in Bitcoin.' He has openly stated during his campaign, 'If you support cryptocurrency, voting for Trump is your best choice.'
In the short term, cryptocurrency seems to have given rise to a lasting and complex cultural phenomenon, consisting of loyal believers, technology utopia dreamers, as well as speculators, criminals, victims, investors, and politicians trying to cater to voters. The monetary impact brought by this technology has made many people overnight millionaires, and they are using these resources to build a world that aligns with their vision.
While the declaration of Bitcoin's birth—the white paper that laid the foundation for the entire cryptocurrency field—did not directly address political issues, cryptocurrency quickly gained favor and admiration from cyber-libertarians. The core belief held by these cyber-libertarians can be traced back to the (Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace) published in 1996, which clearly states: the government should not interfere in the management of the internet.
Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies are built on blockchain technology, and the decentralized nature of blockchain inherently carries an anti-establishment color. They operate without relying on any central authority or intermediary. The late digital culture scholar David Golumbia profoundly analyzed this in his 2016 work (The Politics of Bitcoin: Software as Right-Wing Extremism): 'Among the most fervent supporters of Bitcoin, many depict the Federal Reserve as an essentially corrupt institution, a tool manipulated by conspiracy-theorist bankers who seek to 'completely control people's lives.'
For those steadfast believers at the time, cryptocurrency was like a beam of light from a technological utopia, illuminating the path against a fragmented, exclusionary, and exploitative financial system. They firmly believed this technological innovation would either reshape the financial system or completely overturn it.
However, to this day, the cultural ecology of cryptocurrency has become increasingly diverse. Trading platforms like Coinbase and Robinhood allow anyone with a bank account and a smartphone to easily step into this once-mysterious trading world. Certainly, there are still a group of 'hardcore believers' who are deeply convinced of cryptocurrency technology; but at the same time, we also see celebrities and 'memers' launching new coins using internet pop culture to attract attention, along with a large number of day traders trying to find opportunistic riches in these speculative tokens.
The profits from cryptocurrency are often closely tied to hype and marketing, which has given rise to a unique digital culture. This culture attracts not only those seeking a sense of belonging but also investors tempted by the dream of 'thousandfold returns,' as well as players who simply enjoy the fact that cryptocurrency can 'annoy the mainstream.' Even as cryptocurrency gradually moves towards the mainstream, many loyal followers still see their investments and communities as symbols of a counter-mainstream culture.
Thus, it is not surprising that right-wing cultural warriors like Jordan Peterson and Joe Rogan, despite now being influential, still consider themselves 'outsiders' and show a strong interest in cryptocurrency. Similarly, venture capitalists like Marc Andreessen, whose company is deeply involved in the cryptocurrency space, are also gradually leaning towards more conservative political positions, a change that is also worth our attention.
It's all too easy to mock the hype cycles of cryptocurrency—you can scoff at the crazy rise and fall of 'Bored Apes' NFT prices or look down on the bottomless hype in Memecoin culture. When mentioning controversial figures due to the launch of Memecoins, one cannot overlook the internet personality turned podcast host Haliey Welch, better known by her online alias 'Hawk Tuah girl.' The Memecoin she launched saw its price skyrocket in a short period, only to crash shortly after, enraging many loyal fans. If you resonate with this description, I apologize, but at the same time—you must have understood my underlying message.
Cryptocurrency culture is filled with obscure internet slang and unique visual symbols, appearing out of touch with mainstream culture, even repulsive. The frequent scandals involving Ponzi schemes and defrauding retail investors in the industry—like the bankrupt companies such as FTX and Celsius—further lead to distrust. However, despite these tumultuous events, or perhaps because of them, the cryptocurrency space has still produced a number of millionaires, billionaires, and a vast reserve of corporate capital. They are now using these accumulated riches to exert influence on the political stage.
This brings our focus back to Trump. Whether he truly comprehends the deeper logic of cryptocurrency—beyond recognizing it as an effective means to garner votes and a way to amass wealth—remains ambiguous. However, the alliance between Trump and cryptocurrency supporters makes philosophical sense. Trump himself is a figure filled with a thirst for money and not lacking in corruption. For his supporters, part of the appeal of the Trump administration comes from his promise to weaken the power of the federal government, retaliate against political opponents, and reshape America's institutions. It's not hard to see how the vision of 'Make America Great Again' (MAGA) intersects with a kind of 'fringe culture' that detests the existing establishment, viewing it as decayed and untrustworthy. This intersection is also reflected in certain tech executives, such as David Sacks, a venture capitalist opposing 'woke culture,' who was appointed by Trump to oversee artificial intelligence and cryptocurrency affairs.
I discussed these points with Molly White, who has long been following the cryptocurrency industry. She pointed out that there is another similarity between cryptocurrency advocates and the MAGA camp—they both yearn to become the powerful institutions they openly despise. 'Bitcoin, and to some extent other crypto assets, embody an anti-government, anti-censorship spirit,' she explained to me. White stated that the original intention of cryptocurrency is based on the idea that large financial institutions and the government should not interfere in this emerging field. However, 'many cryptocurrency advocates have accumulated immense wealth by holding these assets, thereby gaining significant power. Over time, this idea has shifted from 'we don't want those institutions to hold power' to 'we desire to hold power.'
White believes that the cryptocurrency industry has already transformed into a version of the very system it originally opposed. 'Look at what cryptocurrency companies like Coinbase are doing; their actions are remarkably similar to the financial institutions criticized by Bitcoin's founder, Satoshi Nakamoto. These companies not only maintain close relationships with the government but also perform identity verification operations like traditional banks,' she analyzed. 'They seem to be rebuilding a financial system, but in reality, they provide even less protection for consumers.'
Clearly, if Trump returns to power, the cryptocurrency industry and its big players may indeed get what they desire. The industry may face a new regulatory framework that defines tokens as commodities rather than securities, significantly easing trading restrictions and potentially driving deeper integration between major banks and crypto assets. Last week, Trump nominated former SEC commissioner and cryptocurrency supporter Paul Atkins to serve as the chairman of the SEC. Following this news, Bitcoin prices surged past the $100,000 mark (in comparison, Bitcoin's price was less than half of this number a year ago).
You don't need to be a cynic to see the flywheel effect at play: the rise of cryptocurrency as a political force to be reckoned with is not due to its technology having broad and unarguable utility, but rather because it has created a class of extremely wealthy individuals, thereby attracting countless eyes and interests. This industry has courted politicians with wealth, while politicians cater to the needs of donors through promises. Ultimately, candidates supporting cryptocurrency prevail, and Bitcoin prices soar, making the same group of people even richer, thus allowing them to exert greater political influence.
Although Trump has not officially taken office in the White House, a series of potential ripple effects have already begun to emerge. Cryptocurrency magnate Justin Sun from China recently spent $30 million to acquire a large amount of Trump's 'World Liberty Financial' tokens—this transaction could yield significant gains for Trump while also raising concerns that this incoming president's investments in the cryptocurrency realm might become a convenient channel for bribery. Rumors suggest that Trump may fulfill his previous promise to establish a strategic Bitcoin reserve in the U.S., which could even require the federal government to purchase up to 200,000 Bitcoins annually over the next five years—perhaps even utilizing the nation's gold reserves as exchange. For cryptocurrency whales, this undoubtedly represents an extremely attractive plan—a feast of wealth transfer from the government to cryptocurrency giants. In fact, this would allow cryptocurrency holders to sell their assets to the government at inflated prices, further driving up asset prices. For a technology that originally upheld decentralized ideals, relying on the government to support Bitcoin prices is undoubtedly a rather ironic move.
During Trump's second term, cryptocurrency may become the 'lubricant' for government operations, but what is more concerning is the potential consequences if the executives of the cryptocurrency industry achieve all their goals. My colleague Annie Lowrey recently wrote, 'Rules favorable to the industry will lead to a flood of funds into the cryptocurrency market, which will not only make existing cryptocurrency holders richer but could also exacerbate market volatility, putting millions of Americans at risk of scams, fraud, and deception.'
White expressed similar concerns, especially as cryptocurrency further integrates with the global economy. The collapse of FTX resulted in significant losses for some users but did not cause a real chain reaction in the broader financial system. She confided, 'At that time, cryptocurrency companies had not grown to the point of being too big to fail, nor did they require government bailouts. However, if banks are allowed to delve deeper into this space, and if cryptocurrency becomes more tightly integrated with traditional finance, I fear the industry will expand to a larger scale, and once it collapses, its destructive power will be even more astonishing.'
The future of cryptocurrency remains shrouded in thick fog, but at least in the short term, its impact seems clearer than it was before November 5. It turns out that cryptocurrency has indeed found a very specific application scenario—it tightly grips a culture that views greed and speculation as virtues and further fuels this atmosphere while willingly accepting market volatility. The only thing that seems certain about cryptocurrency is that it attracts and shapes a diverse group of individuals—they may be adventurous, overly optimistic about the benefits of technology, or deeply skeptical of traditional institutions. And these traits align perfectly with the turmoil and distrust of the 2020s, as well as the nihilism and corruption characteristic of the Trump era.
