by Dan Conway
“You’ll be happy to know that we are looking at blockchain,” he said. “We’ve started a taskforce, and I’ll send you the note. I wouldn’t get too excited yet, because I doubt it will go anywhere, but I thought you’d want to know.”
The usual suspect tech companies have become so complacent in their identity as disruptors, so smug in their ability to determine what is innovative and edgy, that they don’t realize that crypto is coming to disrupt them. If your company makes a lot of money running proprietary software from a server farm, ten thousand nerds are trying to figure out how to put that same software on a blockchain where people like you and me can become owners by buying the token. A million corporate task forces aren’t going to stop that.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Next
In mid-January 2018, ether and every other cryptocurrency crashed hard. The crash intensified as the year went on. ETH hit a low of $80 on December 1, 2018, an 88 percent decline from its price when I sold the bulk of our shares at $915 and a 95 percent decrease from its brief, all-time high of $1,400 on January 14, 2018. Bitcoin hit a low of $3,295, an 88 percent decrease from its all-time high of $20,000.
The bubble has popped. As of this writing, in January 2019, we are in a bear market, and no one knows how long it will last. The mania that led to the run-up in 2017 was too much, too soon, and crypto has given back the majority of its gains.
Crypto has been through two cycles like this before, in 2012 and 2014. It isn’t pleasant, but I’m not at all pessimistic about the future. I follow hundreds of crypto developers on Twitter, and the activity level is as high as ever. An army of zealots is continuing to build the infrastructure, consumer-friendly interfaces, and scaling solutions that will fuel the next phase of growth.
The Brave web browser, which runs on the Ethereum blockchain, has more than one million downloads. Coinbase has added forty-nine new coins, expanded globally, quadrupled in size, and is valued at more than six billion dollars. My former client, BitGo, had a great year despite the crypto winter. They introduced a professional-grade custody solution for institutional investors and extended their multisig wallet to support sixty-two crypto assets, many of them tokens on the Ethereum blockchain that power dApps. They also landed a forty-five million-dollar funding round. (I can only hope they found someone to write those data sheets.)
It is during these times of fear, uncertainty, and doubt that critics say blockchain is a solution looking for a problem, that it is a false panacea that seduced a herd of naive dreamers despite having no mainstream use beyond speculation. I’m certainly one of those dreamers.
My inspiration comes from one of the more difficult blockchain endgame promises: that it will disrupt the corporation. There are dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of other use cases that have lit a fire under developers and dreamers all over the world. Some are inspired by how blockchain could enable fraud-proof philanthropy by validating the proper distribution of funds. Some believe crypto micropayments will save independent journalism. Some are driven by the promise that blockchains will protect elections and ensure every vote is legitimate. Some say blockchain will eventually disrupt government itself.
Skeptics complain about blockchain not yet having users or uses. But that’s because the technology makes things that were previously impossible, possible. It requires imagination and faith to see the future.
It’s no surprise that people have a hard time wrapping their minds around the concept of decentralization. Centralization is all we’ve known for a very long time. It’s hard to imagine any other way. But that wasn’t always the case. For the first hundred years of the United States of America, for example, the key debate among policy makers and citizens was whether the country should be centralized. Jeffersonian Democrats advocated for a national economy based on decentralized farmers and shopkeepers, versus the centralized control of strong national banks, what we call Wall Street today.
I’m not advocating for a Maoist reordering of the world. And I’m not a libertarian. I think governments play an important role in society. I’m bringing this up simply as a reminder that decentralization used to be a reasonable priority for the common man and woman. Since the centralization of the Industrial Revolution, up until the invention of Bitcoin in 2009, it is a concept that has almost completely disappeared from thoughtful debate outside of academia.
Public blockchains based on cryptocurrency have reintroduced decentralization as an organizing principle worth exploring. Could solutions to problems like global warming that require broad consensus across the globe, which no single government can solve on its own, be enabled through blockchain? Yes, they could.
Whether it takes years, decades, or a century for blockchain to enter its prime is not a question I’m prepared to answer. But I believe it is a good thing, an amazing thing, that Satoshi Nakamoto’s invention offers us a new tool to address some of the most important problems facing the planet.
Who exactly will use blockchain, and in what way? The better question is: what is possible? If we don’t thoughtfully ask, we could end up sounding like President Rutherford Hayes in 1876, at the dawn of the telephone age, an invention that extended the reach of the modern corporation. Of the telephone, he said, “An amazing invention, but who would ever want to use one?”
***
No one asks me about crypto anymore. This is not just a drop, a correction, it’s full-scale capitulation. Friends ask me if I got out in time. Yes, I did, but it doesn’t have the same luster as when I was rich and RIGHT. I’m back to running on normal gas rather than jet fuel.
Long-term, I know I will be right about crypto again, but that’s not the point. I need to make the kids dinner, go see a movie, and replace the filters on the furnace. Drug-free, alcohol-free, and free of crypto mania or other manias. What do I need to prove, anyway? Our life is pleasant as hell. We take a lot of trips, eat good food, sign the kids up for any damn lessons or programs they are interested in. A very good life, by almost any measure.
I am thinking about these things while I stare across the River Suir from the porch of our house in County Waterford, Ireland, looking across to County Wexford, that place from my family’s past that I still associate more with leprechauns and legends than real life, even though we now own a home here.
Eileen and I purchased this house from her cousin Colman Murphy. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late 2017 and wanted to sell the house to us before he died. Colman was a well-known architect who designed and built the famous St. Stephen’s Green Mall in the heart of Dublin. He was Jay’s godfather and one of Eileen’s closest relatives. The opportunity to purchase this beautiful home and provide Colman the liquid cash he needed to deal with his illness presented itself at a time when we miraculously had the money to do it.
The house is big and beautiful, right out of Architectural Digest. It is sunny and modern, on a full acre of beachfront property. Massive ships silently pass by the river on their way to port in Waterford City. Eileen and I are getting our Irish passports. We are citizens of the world.
On this morning, I look back through the window and see Eileen and the kids sitting on the big couch in their pajamas, reading their books, well rested. My books are on the table, ready for me.
There is a book on jiu-jitsu. I imagine my path to black belt and anticipate that I’ll eventually show up at our friend’s house parties fully ripped, looking like a Greek god, with all of the wives staring at me while I make my way to the hors d’oeuvres table to get some vegetables and meats.
There is a book on open water swimming. I have visions of becoming a master swimmer, a freak of nature in middle age, taking long swims in the ocean and outlasting bigger, supposedly tougher men.
The books are resting on the Irish Times. That morning, I read about yet another shooting back in America. I imagine that if I were there, I’d jump out from behind a corner, take out the shooter, then give interviews.
On the side table, still untouched, is a book
on meditation I’ve been hauling around for some time. It is going to try to teach me to focus on the present. It will probably tell me that I don’t need glory, that living in the moment is enough.
Tucked into the book is a schedule of twelve-step meetings in Ireland that I’ve been telling myself to check out.
I look through my binoculars one more time before going in. A stiff wind ruffles my remaining hair. Far up, beyond the meanderings of the river, I think I can see New Ross Harbor, the last thing my grandfather would’ve seen before leaving on a train for a port that would take him to the New World. I know this is impossible—it is too far away to see. But with the money and the big win, I feel like I can do anything. I can rewrite histories, I can heal wounds, I can set the record straight.
It’s a struggle not to look for the next big thing. I don’t want to ruin it all, no matter how many scores I still need to settle.
Flip Side is still with me. And no matter how much I want to pretend I’ve overcome him, I have not. He saved me. Like a cold-blooded CIA operative who goes rogue and is locked up, I’ll keep him under cover until I need him for my next secret mission—something so insane, so unconventional, that only his twisted temperament could get it done.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my wife Eileen. I clearly married up. Please stay healthy. I can’t imagine life without you. Thanks also to Eileen for her editing and good judgment as a storyteller. And sorry for the crappy parts of our life that this book documents. I hope, at my funeral, you can at least deliver the old Irish faint-praise platitude that always cracked my dad up: “He was a good provider.”
Thank you also to my three kids, Danny, Annie, and Jay. Having your dad write a book with this title can’t be easy. Yet it’s probably better than my previous working title, Douchebag. Thanks for your love and support—I couldn’t have written this without you.
While I’m at it, let me thank the rest of my family, in particular my mom, Peggy Conway; sister Kathleen Kelly; and brother, Joey Conway. I’m very fond of you all. Thanks also to three important family members who aren’t with us anymore: my dad, Joseph Conway; my sister Maureen O’Rourke; and my dear aunt and godmother, Nancy Hole, who passed away while I was completing this book. What I wouldn’t give for another day with each of you. To all my family, you shaped who I am. After reading this book, you might have some explaining to do.
I had outstanding early readers who helped make this manuscript stronger in every way. Thank you to Clay Tingley, Rob Glickman, Cathy and Sean Stannard-Stockton, Mike Blickenstaff, Joe Schultz, April Rassa, and finally, my cousins and big supporters, Fred and Cathy Hutton.
Mary Kole was my developmental editor. I’d highly recommend her to any writer who can handle a thorough, brilliant and, if necessary, tough edit. Thank you also to copy editor Amy Wilson who helped me with the finishing touches.
My whip-smart blockchain researcher, Jack Cullen, found everything I needed, twice as fast as I thought possible. Evidence that I’m slipping, despite my vital and attractive appearance. Jack, you are going places. Thank you, my friend.
Three crypto OGs deserve special thanks for helping me spread the word about this book: Andrew Keys, Mohamed Sangani and especially the legend himself, J.T. Nichol.
The team at the UPS store on Howard Avenue in Burlingame is outstanding. They helped with the numerous administrative projects involved in printing and shipping drafts to various readers and a million other things.
I wrote most of this book at two of my favorite places, Philz Coffee in downtown San Mateo and the Burlingame Public Library. When Philz was too quiet, I couldn’t write. When the library was too loud, I couldn’t write. Somehow, I finished anyway. Thank you for putting up with me for so long.
Thanks also to Katherine Boyle and Hilary Hinzmann for their contributions to previous versions of this project.
Thank you to Mr. Burg, my eighth grade English teacher who pulled me aside to tell me I could write. This was not long after the popular “Hate Dan Day” festivities. His kindness was a bright spot in my otherwise miserable life at the time. He was dying of a brain tumor but still took the time to work with me. I’ll never forget it.
Finally, I'd like to thank the filthy animals of r/EthTrader and r/EthFinance. Crypto wouldn’t be the same without you.
Thank you for taking the time to read this book!
Please consider giving it a quick rating and/or review so others can discover it by clicking here.
Visit danconwaywriter.com for information about Dan's life since his windfall.
About the Author
Dan Conway is a former high school elected official. He held a variety of non-prestigious jobs over his twenty-year career in corporate America. Today, he writes about work, tech, family, and culture. His essays have appeared in Business Insider, Fatherly.com and Cuepoint. He lives in Northern California with his wife and three children.
Dan’s writings about crypto, life since his windfall and other projects can be found at danconwaywriter.com. He can also be found on Twitter @DanConway650 and Medium @DanConway650.
