On October 6, 2025, Bitcoin ($BTC) traded at $126,198.07. People were buying it because they believed they were investing in an asset that would protect their wealth. Today, nine months later, it is struggling to remain above $63,000 per Bitcoin.
That is not protection against inflation. It is a reminder that speculation can produce gains, but it can also erase wealth just as quickly. An asset that can lose around half its value in nine months cannot credibly be described as a reliable hedge against inflation.
RAMI
cc. @cz_binance
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
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