Almost a year ago I had created a note titled “A return to fundamentals”, a reminder to myself to eventually write this essay. I remember the idea came to me sometime in 2021 towards the end of the NFT mania that saw a new speculative bubble attract fresh fodder for the crypto markets. Now, at the start of a new cycle, one in which much of crypto will be absorbed into traditional finance, despite the optimism of those who believe institutions will somehow play by our rules, the argument feels relevant again.
Before crypto became a category or a branding exercise, it was a response to specific failures. Early systems were not designed to “reimagine the internet”, they were built to remove points of control. E-cash proposals, peer-to-peer networks, and eventually Bitcoin emerged from a lineage that assumed intermediaries would fail, abuse power, or be coerced. The goal was not efficiency within existing systems, but exit from them.
This made incumbents uncomfortable for obvious reasons. Banks, payment processors, and the regulators who orbit them had no interest in systems designed to route around their authority. The early hostility was not irrational but rather self-preservation. If the premise of crypto was that trusted third parties are security holes, then every institution built on being a trusted third party had reason to push back.
What followed was a slow process of accommodation. The language shifted first: "Cryptocurrency" became "blockchain technology", then "distributed ledger technology", then "Web3", each iteration sanding down the adversarial edge until what remained was palatable enough for a conference panel at Davos. This wasn't entirely cynical. Many of the people adopting the Web3 framing genuinely believed that softer positioning would accelerate adoption, that meeting regulators halfway would buy the space room to mature. And in some narrow sense they were right, the rebrand opened doors to venture capital, to enterprise pilots, to mainstream media coverage that treated crypto as a technology sector rather than a monetary insurgency.
But "Web3" did more than soften the language. It inverted the narrative entirely. It took the core infrastructure (public blockchains, token-based coordination, self-custodied assets) and dressed it in the language of platform innovation. Suddenly this was not about financial sovereignty or exit from state-managed money. It was about "the next internet." Creator economies. Digital ownership. The kind of thing you could put in a pitch deck for Andreessen Horowitz or explain to a senator without anyone reaching for the word "money laundering." The term functioned as a mullet: permissionless in the backend, palatable in the front. And it worked, in the narrow sense that it attracted capital and brought in a wave of builders who had no particular attachment to the original cypherpunk thesis. They weren't trying to escape the system. They were trying to build the next version of it, ideally one where they captured more of the value.
The problem is that legibility to incumbents is not a neutral act. When you reshape your language to satisfy regulators and attract institutional capital, you are not merely translating, you are negotiating, and what you negotiate away first is always the part they find most objectionable. In crypto's case, that was the entire point: the adversarial relationship with centralized power. The Web3 rebrand didn't just soften the messaging. It quietly relocated the Overton window of what crypto was for, from exit to efficiency, from sovereignty to infrastructure.
What arrived was not adoption in any meaningful sense. It was absorption. When BlackRock launched a Bitcoin ETF, it did not submit to the logic of decentralization, it extended the logic of traditional asset management to a new underlying. The custody is theirs. The access is gated through their infrastructure. The price discovery happens on their terms. Bitcoin, in this context, is not a peer-to-peer electronic cash system. It is a ticker symbol.
The same pattern repeats everywhere the "institutional adoption" narrative is celebrated. Stablecoins are not an alternative monetary system, they are dollar distribution infrastructure that happens to settle on a blockchain. KYC'd "decentralized" exchanges are centralized exchanges with a smart contract frontend. Corpochains are permissioned databases with a consensus mechanism bolted on for branding purposes. In each case, the technology has been adopted, but the thesis has been discarded. What remains is the aesthetic of decentralization applied to systems that function identically to the ones crypto was designed to replace.
The uncomfortable truth is that the institutions did not come to crypto. Crypto went to them and was reshaped in their image. Every compliance framework, every licensed custody solution, every regulated on-ramp was a concession dressed up as progress. And the market rewarded these concessions, because the market does not price ideology. It prices liquidity, access, and regulatory clarity all of which the institutional framework provides, and all of which come at the cost of the thing that made crypto distinct in the first place.
A return to fundamentals is not a return to 2015. It is not nostalgia for a time when the ecosystem was small enough to be coherent. The early community had conviction but lacked infrastructure. What exists now is the inverse: infrastructure without conviction. The task is not to go back, but to re-derive the original conclusions from present conditions.
The first conclusion is that anything worth building must be resistant to capture. Not by design philosophy or whitepaper aspiration, but by architecture. If a protocol can be shut down by serving a subpoena to three people, it is not decentralized in any way that matters. If a stablecoin can be frozen by its issuer, it is a bank account with extra steps. The question is not whether something is "on-chain" but whether it can survive active hostility from the systems it exists alongside.
The second is that governance is not optional. The cypherpunk tradition was allergic to governance because it associated governance with control. But ungoverned protocols do not remain ungoverned, they get captured by whoever shows up with the most capital or the most patience. Treasuries worth billions sit under the nominal control of tokenholders who have neither the information, the coordination mechanisms, nor the incentive structures to exercise meaningful oversight. This is not decentralization. It is abandonment dressed up as ideology.
The third is that inconvenience is not a bug to be optimized away. The push to make crypto "easy" — to match the UX of Venmo or Robinhood — was always a push to make it legible to the existing system. Seed phrases are annoying. Self-custody requires attention. Permissionless systems do not come with customer support. These are real costs, but they are the costs of sovereignty, and the alternative of delegating custody, identity, and access to intermediaries is precisely the dependency that crypto was built to eliminate. The goal should not be to make the sovereign path frictionless, but to make it functional for the people who actually need it.
None of this requires mass adoption to be meaningful. The original error of the Web3 era was measuring success by how many people used the technology rather than by what the technology made possible for those who did. A financial system that serves fifty million people who cannot access traditional banking is more aligned with the original thesis than one that serves five hundred million people who simply prefer a newer interface to their brokerage.
The phrase "return to fundamentals" is not a rallying cry. It is a filter. It separates what is worth building from what is merely profitable. Build systems that survive hostility, not ones that depend on the absence of it. Govern the protocols that already exist rather than waiting for someone else to do it or worse, pretending they don't need it. Stop reshaping the work to be legible to institutions whose approval was never the point.
The next cycle will not look like the last one. Much of what carries the name "crypto" will be absorbed into traditional finance entirely, and the people running those businesses will do well. But the question was never whether blockchains would be adopted. It was whether the ideas that produced them would survive the adoption. That is still an open question, and the answer depends entirely on what gets built now, by whom, and for what reason.