Micha (מיכיהו) 7:8 — “Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy! Though I have fallen, I rise again; Though I sit in darkness, G-D is my light.”
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Using the latest reported figures, Strategy holds approximately 843,706 BTC with an average acquisition cost of about $75,699 per BTC.
For context:
Total cost basis ≈ $63.87 billion
Market value at $59,500/BTC ≈ $50.20 billion
Unrealised loss ≈ $13.67 billion
One caveat: some individual tranches were purchased below $59,500 and would still be profitable on a lot-by-lot basis.
Your suggestion misunderstands both how interest rates function and what would happen if employers were forced to divert wages into a compulsory “after-tax” contribution.
Interest rates are not simply a tool to “pull money out of the economy” in a mechanical sense. They change the cost of borrowing and the incentive to save. When rates rise, borrowing slows, investment decisions are reassessed, and consumption is deferred. That process affects demand broadly across the economy—not just employees’ take-home pay. It is a blunt but system-wide mechanism, not a targeted wage extraction.
Your proposed alternative—forcing employers to redirect £200/month from every PAYE employee into superannuation—would not replicate that effect. It would do something quite different:
First, it would act as an immediate wage suppression. Employees would experience it as a reduction in disposable income, regardless of how it is labelled. That reduces consumption directly, but unevenly and regressively, hitting lower-income workers hardest.
Second, it would increase employment costs. Employers would not treat this as neutral. Over time, they would offset it through lower wage growth, reduced hiring, or cuts elsewhere. The burden would not sit neatly where intended.
Third, it would distort capital allocation. Unlike interest rates, which influence all borrowing and investment decisions, this policy channels funds into a specific vehicle (pensions). That does not necessarily reduce inflationary pressure in the short term—it simply reallocates liquidity into managed funds, which may still find their way back into markets.
Fourth, it introduces timing rigidity. Monetary policy can be adjusted quickly and reversed. A mandated contribution scheme is politically and operationally slow to change, meaning it risks overshooting or lagging behind economic conditions.
Finally, banks do not simply “profit more” because rates rise. Their margins can increase, but they also face higher default risks, reduced loan demand, and funding pressures. The system balances itself more than the suggestion assumes.
In short, your proposal would not function as a cleaner version of interest rate policy. It would reduce wages, distort labour markets, and reallocate capital inefficiently, while lacking the flexibility and broad transmission mechanism that monetary policy provides.
RAMI
It is being presented as retail inclusion, but that is only the surface-level narrative.
A more accurate reading is that this is about control—who has it, and who does not.
If Elon Musk allocates a significant portion of a SpaceX IPO to retail investors, he is not simply “opening the doors to the public.” He is, more importantly, closing the doors to institutional dominance. Traditional IPO structures concentrate power in the hands of a relatively small group of large funds. Those institutions do not just invest—they influence pricing, governance, and narrative. Reducing their allocation reduces their leverage.
At the same time, replacing institutions with retail is not a neutral swap. Retail investors do not behave like institutions. They are not valuation-driven in the same disciplined way; they are narrative-driven, sentiment-driven, and—critically in Musk’s case—personality-driven.
This is where the strategy becomes clear.
Musk has already demonstrated, most notably with Tesla, Inc., that a highly engaged and loyal following can sustain valuations that traditional metrics struggle to justify. His “army” of followers does not operate like conventional capital—they buy into vision, identity, and belief as much as they do into financials. That creates a powerful feedback loop: attention drives demand, demand drives price, and rising price reinforces the narrative.
A retail-heavy IPO structure effectively weaponises that dynamic from day one.
Instead of institutions capturing the early upside and imposing discipline, the initial float is placed into the hands of participants who are more likely to:
• Hold through volatility
• Add on momentum
• Promote the story publicly
• Treat the investment as alignment with Musk himself
The result is not just participation—it is price amplification.
So while the framing will be about fairness and access, the underlying mechanism is more strategic. It shifts pricing power away from cautious, valuation-focused institutions and toward a distributed base that is far more responsive to narrative and momentum.
In that sense, this is less about democratising finance and more about re-engineering the IPO process to favour a different kind of market force—one that Musk already knows how to mobilise.
RAM
Government has no money of its own. Any intervention simply means that taxpayers are paying other people’s bills. In reality, all taxpayers are compelled to contribute so that the government can create the impression that it is doing something, when in fact it is doing nothing beyond using taxpayers’ money to manufacture the illusion of activity in order to justify its own existence.
As of today: ~19.6 million BTC have been mined, with ~1.4 million BTC remaining to be mined gradually until about 2140.
However, if the lost-coin estimates are taken into consideration, the practical circulating supply that can be accessed is closer to about: ≈ 17 million BTC.
Meaning, $MSTR owns approximately 4.3-4.4% of the total supply.
Nine other holders own another 10-12% of the supply.
Not exactly the currency of the future for the average person.
The regular predictions about the future price of Bitcoin — often made by those with a vested interest or an ulterior motive — are quickly beginning to resemble the ever-shifting deadlines once given for global cooling, then global warming, and now CO₂-driven climate catastrophe. Their record of accuracy is, at best, predictably unreliable.
RAM
If the Chief Executive of a publicly listed company wishes to express long-term strategic confidence in an asset, that is one thing.
Publishing eye-watering price targets — $1 million in 4–8 years and $20 million in 20 years — is something else entirely.
When such statements come from someone whose company’s balance sheet is heavily exposed (and currently underwater by $9 billion) to that same asset, they cease to be harmless optimism and begin to look like promotional signalling.
Public company officers have a duty to shareholders. That duty includes prudence, balance, and avoiding statements that could reasonably be interpreted as price promotion. Markets are already volatile. Retail investors already carry disproportionate risk. Exponential forecasts presented as inevitabilities distort rational decision-making.
If Bitcoin succeeds, it will do so on fundamentals — adoption, utility, stability, and credibility — not on escalating numerical promises.
Extraordinary claims require extraordinary justification. Simply projecting larger and larger numbers into the future is not analysis; it is narrative amplification.
There is a clear difference between conviction and hype. One builds trust. The other erodes it.
Responsible leadership in public markets demands restraint.
RAM
You’re absolutely right about one thing: the supply schedule is mathematically fixed. Twenty-one million means twenty-one million (except those 3-4 million lost coins). Scarcity is real.
But scarcity alone does not create enduring value.
History is full of scarce things that became irrelevant. Scarcity only matters if demand persists, liquidity persists, legal frameworks persist, and the network effect persists. For the “long term” to matter, the asset must survive every short- and medium-term shock along the way.
That is my concern.
Bitcoin does not exist in isolation. It trades inside a global liquidity system dominated by states, central banks and regulation. When liquidity contracts, risk assets suffer. We have seen that repeatedly. Scarcity did not prevent 70% drawdowns before, and it will not prevent them again.
The claim that it is a “5,000-year asset” assumes:
• Governments will tolerate self-custodied capital at scale
• Energy inputs will remain politically and economically viable
• The network effect will not be displaced by superior technology
• Demand will outpace regulatory and macro headwinds
Those are assumptions, not certainties.
Yes, the issuance schedule is predictable. But predictability is not the same as inevitability. Tulips were scarce. Beanie Babies were scarce. Scarcity without stable structural demand is just limited supply of something people stop wanting.
And here is the core point:
For the long term to matter, you must survive to reach it.
If an asset experiences repeated 60–80% drawdowns in tightening cycles, most participants do not last. Institutions with quarterly mandates do not last. Retail investors do not last. Political tolerance may not last.
Scarcity may define the ceiling. Liquidity defines the path.
I am not denying the mathematics. I am questioning the durability of the environment required for that mathematics to translate into enduring value.
That is where my pessimism lies.
Price crashes happen when liquidity contracts and positioning is crowded. Not because two charts look alike.
The most important line in that post is actually the last one: “Are you prepared?” That is the only part that has real value. Sensible positioning assumes volatility is inevitable. If someone holds an asset that could halve in value and that would ruin them, the issue is not the chart — it is risk management.
Markets love symmetry. Analysts love overlaying one cycle onto another and drawing a straight line to a dramatic target. But financial markets are not photocopiers. They are adaptive systems driven by liquidity, regulation, leverage, sentiment, macro policy, and geopolitical context. Even if a chart “looks similar,” the underlying drivers are rarely identical.
The 2022 crash was driven largely by:
• Aggressive global rate hikes
• Liquidity withdrawal
• Leverage unwinding (LUNA, FTX, etc.)
• Risk-off macro conditions
If someone is predicting $29,000 in 2026 purely because a price structure resembles 2022, that is technical pattern extrapolation without confirming macro conditions.
If the United States, the United Kingdom or major European economies adopted a tax on unrealised gains — whether 10%, 20% or 36% — it would fundamentally change how markets behave. The percentage is secondary. The structural shift is what matters.
Unrealised gains are paper profits. They are not cash in hand. Taxing them means investors must find liquidity to pay a bill on assets they have not sold. For anyone sitting on large positions in Bitcoin, equities or bonds, that means one thing: forced selling.
Imagine holding £5 million in Bitcoin with a £2 million paper gain. Even a modest tax on that gain could create a liability running into hundreds of thousands. If you do not have spare cash elsewhere, you must sell part of your position. Multiply that across thousands of holders and you create structural, government-induced selling pressure.
This would:
• Increase volatility
• Cap bull markets through repeated forced liquidation
• Shorten investment horizons
• Push capital toward friendlier jurisdictions
• Incentivise relocation of both wealth and talent
It also changes psychology. Investors would no longer think purely in terms of long-term compounding. They would manage positions around annual tax exposure.
For Bitcoin specifically, this could create recurring “tax-season drawdowns” as holders sell simply to meet liabilities — not because they lost conviction.
The broader implication is even more serious: it shifts taxation from realised economic gain to theoretical market valuation. That is a profound structural change in how capital markets function.
Whether one supports it or not, the consequences would not be marginal. They would be systemic.
The statement attributed to the founder of Binance, Changpeng Zhao (CZ), that “nations will print unlimited money to buy Bitcoin” sounds bold, even inevitable, to those who already believe in Bitcoin as the ultimate monetary hedge. But bold predictions are not prudent policy. A sober analysis demands caution.
First, sovereign money creation is not a speculative tool. When a nation “prints” currency, it is not creating wealth; it is issuing liabilities. Currency expansion dilutes purchasing power, distorts capital allocation, and transfers wealth — often silently — from savers to asset holders. Printing money to acquire a volatile digital asset would magnify these distortions rather than solve them.
Second, Bitcoin’s price behaviour itself demonstrates the risk embedded in such a policy. In October 2025 Bitcoin reached an all-time high of $126,198. Today it trades near $67,300 — a decline of roughly 46%. This is not an isolated event. Since its inception, Bitcoin has experienced multiple drawdowns exceeding 50%, and several above 70%. If a nation were to go “all in” on Bitcoin using newly issued currency or sovereign debt, and it suffered yet another downturn of this magnitude, the result would not simply be a mark-to-market fluctuation. It would directly impact national reserves, currency credibility, borrowing costs, and public confidence. The consequences for that nation’s economy could be severe.
Third, even if such a strategy initially drove Bitcoin’s price higher, one must ask who benefits. Primarily early holders. The state would be transferring newly created currency into the hands of private Bitcoin owners, effectively socialising the risk while privatising the gain. If the policy failed, the public would bear the cost through inflation, currency weakness, or fiscal strain.
Fourth, central banks are tasked with stability, not speculation. Even countries with aggressive monetary policies operate within legal mandates tied to price stability and employment. Directly leveraging the national balance sheet to speculate on a highly volatile asset would undermine institutional credibility. Markets punish credibility loss quickly — and harshly.
Fifth, there is a reflexive danger. If markets begin pricing Bitcoin on the assumption that governments will print to buy it, then the trade becomes self-referential. Price rises because of expectation of state action; state action is justified by price rises. That loop can end violently. History offers many examples of asset bubbles fuelled by public policy enthusiasm.
Finally, debt-funded speculation is not strategy. It is momentum chasing at a sovereign scale. If a government believes Bitcoin has strategic value, accumulation through fiscal surplus, regulatory clarity, or innovation policy would be far more defensible than currency debasement.
The more realistic scenario is not “unlimited printing to buy Bitcoin,” but selective regulatory integration, ETF exposure, private sector adoption, and cautious treasury experimentation. That is evolution, not revolution.
Markets amplify extreme narratives. Responsible policy does not.
RAM
For a 100-year sterling bond, the meaningful risks are:
• Inflation / purchasing-power erosion
• UK sovereign credibility over a century
• Interest-rate opportunity cost
• Tax treatment changes
When Alphabet Inc. issues a 100-year sterling bond, markets are not asking “Will sterling exist?”
They are asking:
• Will English law exist? (almost certainly yes)
• Will the UK honour continuity of obligations? (historically unbroken)
• Will inflation erode returns? (the real risk)
Inflation is the only real danger.
That’s not contrarian insight — it’s narrative control. When an investment needs “be grateful there are critics” as a selling point, it usually means the upside is already crowded and the risk is being socialised. Markets don’t reward belief systems; they reward price, timing, and liquidity. Guilt isn’t alpha.