How do we talk about something as abstract as computational software? Fundamentally, that’s all crypto is – a network of codes that people develop, interact with, and intermingle with other codes. But unless you’re a developer (even if you’re a developer!), we don’t talk about crypto in cold, computational speak. Crypto is a cultural “space” that is built on a host of vivid metaphors.
This blog series is dedicated to “mapping” the crypto space. That is, talking about how we make the software of blockchain come to life through language, images, sensations, attitudes, and uses.
Let’s talk about how we talk about crypto.
The metaphorical cornerstone of the entire crypto space is the notion that Bitcoin is a coin. Bitcoin isn’t actually metal. It’s not something you can physically hold (but you can sure hodl it!). I explained Bitcoin to my mother like this: “When you buy a bitcoin, you’re really just buying a deed to a unique string of numbers and letters – and everyone agrees that, right now, that string is (at the time of that interaction) worth $54,000.”
How did these strings of numbers that, at their inception, only represented hope for a new form of global finance, become “coins” that are appreciating in value at astronomical rates? How did we come to visualize Bitcoin and all of its offspring as “coins” at all?
The original Bitcoin logo, introduced on the forum in 2009 by Satoshi Nakamoto, was a digital image of gold coin with a "BC' on its face. Annaliese Milano, contributor for the popular crypto website Coindesk, points out the logo gave "the digital project a material existence that has been crucial for its propagation." This material metaphor help communicate Bitcoin’s claim to both privacy and value.
The “digital gold” metaphor helps us visualize the process of “minting” coins through the act of "mining." Bitcoin "miners" are simply owners of high-powered computers that contribute computing power to a network connected to the Bitcoin blockchain. This decentralized network aggregates transactions from users into “blocks” which, if they “win” a competition with the other “miners,” will be rewarded with “coins.” The metaphor extends into the cryptocurrency's value proposition: that, like precious medals, there is a finite supply (there is a 21-billion-coin cap) and cannot be impaired. Like gold, we can also chip of smaller chunks to exchange value. We call these fractions of bitcoins “satoshis.”
Anthropologist Bill Maurer and his colleagues call this metaphor “digital metallism.” It helps us “see” the practical value in Bitcoin, not just as an exchange of value, but also as a political tool to champion individual liberty, privacy, and trust in code rather than centralized authorities. It allows us to talk about an abstract and emerging value in term of objects that we are already familiar with can speak about “naturally.” Gold and fiat currency, that is.
Similar to how you see communities taking Dogecoin and transforming it from a joke to a tongue-in-cheek, yet increasingly accepted form of payment, online communities helped develop Bitcoin’s visual culture. As Milano succinctly puts it: "the collaborative development of Bitcoin's unofficial logo framed its encounter with the rest of the world." The most significant aspect of this engagement is perhaps how the user, bitboy, who introduced the orthodox iteration of the logo, a slightly rotated capital "B" with two vertical strokes in the center of an orange circle. In a discussion with other users on the forum he introduced it to, the creator pointed out that it was inspired by Visa and Mastercard logos so that, in a branding impulse, it would allude to the legitimacy of these traditional financial systems. That user wrote, "The irony is, as much as I hate [the aforementioned credit card companies], it is all about perception when it comes to consumer confidence and behavior. Lol."
Even though we use the digital metal metaphor to talk about the infrastructure, labor, and value of cryptocurrencies, I suggest that that we rely more on a fluid metaphor for how we invest in crypto, which is the main use case for crypto in this stage of its life.
What do I mean by a fluid metaphor? Take a second to think about how we talk about our investments:
We have “liquidity pools” to ensure our ability to trade token on decentralized exchanges (DEXs); when prices outpace “realistic value” of an asset we call them “bubbles,” which are fragile forms of liquid that are liable to pop and hit the floor; we have “bleeding” when our positions are in the red; “choppy” trend lines, which refers to the erratic nature of waves; “melt ups” when a price moves up in a straight line, signifying something once solid and static is now dynamic and moving; “pump and dump” for those instances where folks “pour” money into a position only to “dump” it and “drain” the money of investors who bought into the momentum; we pay “gas” prices to execute transactions, and lastly, the behemoths in the crypto space are known as “whales” who swoop in and gobble up “shrimp” when the price of a coin “dips.”
Crypto, by nature of its novelty is a “fluid” space, ever changing and fitting to the utility that people see in the underlying technology and the culture that flows out of its use. For developers and investors alike: we sink, or we swim.
Disclaimer: I am not a financial advisor and none of this content should be used as financial advice. I will not and cannot be held liable for any actions you take as a result of anything you read here. I’m an amateur investor that writes about culture.
References:
Maurer, Bill, Taylor C. Nelms, and Lana Swartz. "“When perhaps the real problem is money itself!”: the practical materiality of Bitcoin." Social semiotics 23.2 (2013): 261-277.
https://www.coindesk.com/about-that-orange-b-the-history-of-bitcoins-logos
