2032
The year is 2032. Bitcoin has reached $2,300,000 per coin. It fell 5% last week, and yet 60% of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, unable to afford an $800 emergency expense. The average home costs $750,000, but the cost in Bitcoin has dropped from 5.5 BTC to just 0.3 BTC. Your friend, who until now dismissed your advice, finally shows interest in Bitcoin. They ask if they're too late to get in.
You explain that they could try to accumulate 10 million sats, which currently costs $230,000. However, the only way for them to do so is by taking a mortgage on their home equity, but they hesitate because Bitcoin just fell 5%. They decide instead to dollar-cost average $500 a month into Bitcoin, reasoning that it’s all they can afford with their modest $60,000 annual income and a 10% savings rate. Therefore, they’re finally “getting off zero,” and you shed a tear because of this progress.
But deep down, you know that realistically, they won’t reach 10 million sats, probably not even 5 million. Assuming UTXOs are even affordable in a few years, the goal seems ever out of reach. They ask why you didn’t warn them earlier, why you didn’t push harder. Then they ask if you could spare a couple million sats, but you have dozens of friends asking the same, plus hundreds more through “friends of friends” who’ve heard of your whole-coiner status.
Some even rumor you’re a multi-wholecoiner, and a few speculate you’re a sat-billionaire. But despite what others think, there's still a long way to go. National debt remains under $100 trillion, Bitcoin’s share of global wealth is still in the single digits, and adoption is sub-10%. In the eyes of others, you’ve won; they think you should be happy, perhaps even greedy for not giving away sats to them for free.
Therefore, they see you as the victor in this new financial order. But in your own eyes, you see a different reality. You look around, knowing deep down that they still have no idea what’s coming, how much more printing lies ahead, or how precious those sats are. You see some beginning to escape the deterioration of their currency because they finally understand they need to, yet without the urgency that you know is necessary.
So, what do you tell them? You could offer them sats, but you realize that true understanding can’t be given—it must be earned. Therefore, you decide to share what you know, hoping that knowledge, rather than a gift of sats, will prepare them for the storm that’s still on the horizon.