Satoshi
I just finished reading The Mysterious Mr. Nakamoto, detailing journalist Benjamin Wallace’s 15-year quest to uncover the identity of Satoshi Nakamoto, the inventor of Bitcoin.
Here’s the story in a nutshell: In 2008, a pseudonymous software engineer (or possibly a group of people) published what’s now known as the Bitcoin Whitepaper, describing a new concept for a decentralized digital currency.
The underlying concept of the Whitepaper is brilliant, even today. And that’s not necessarily because Bitcoin invented any new technology; all it did was stitch together bits of existing tech. But the genius stemmed from the fact that it took advantage of human incentives to both bolster the currency’s utility and also encourage its growth.
And of course, the numbers speak for themselves. In 2009, Bitcoin was worth less than a US penny. In 2010, one miner famously bought two pizzas for 10,000 BTC. Ten years later, Bitcoin was worth over $10,000. Last year it peaked at nearly $110,000.
All the while, no one knows the identity of the person or people who wrote the Bitcoin Whitepaper. It’s been nearly 17 years since this technology emerged, becoming one of the most valuable and potentially disruptive innovations in history… And no one knows who made it?
Sure, many people have claimed to be Satoshi. And many more have had their theories about who Satoshi is. Benjamin Wallace outlines some of these wild and entertaining stories in his book. And yet, still, no one knows.
What we do know is that Satoshi Nakamoto holds a Bitcoin wallet containing at least one million BTC, today worth over $100 billion. And he’s never spent a cent of it. (If he had spent any of it, the world would know; the Bitcoin ledger is public.)
This whole thing is a mystery box.
We love looking at the box. We love analyzing the box. We love talking about what’s in the box. But the truth is, not a single person knows anything for sure. And I’m not so sure there would be much benefit in finally being able to open the box.
And in thinking about this, I was reminded, of all things, of the show Lost.
The Island
Lost is what folks call a Mystery Box Show.
[T]he term mystery box show or puzzle box show refers to a genre of high concept fiction that features large and complex stories based on enigmatic happenings and secrets, with multiple interlocking sub-plots and sets of characters that eventually reveal an underlying mythos that binds everything together.
If you were around between the years of 2004 and 2010, you were one of two types of people:
Those who watched Lost, or
Those who couldn’t stand talking to people who watched Lost
The show was a unique cultural phenomenon. A serialized weekly drama that was rooted in mystery. Every episode introduced three more questions than it answered so that, by the end (after all the time travel and alternate realities and revelations that everyone was related to everyone), the quantity of mysteries left to explain was approximately 4,815,162,342 (give or take).
Yet that didn’t stop people from speculating about the mythology of Lost, to try and uncover explanations for every single question raised. And the problem with the show (more likely a marketing issue than anything else) was that it seemed to promise that people would get their answers.
At a certain point, the only thing that mattered for hardcore fans (like me) of this Mystery Box Show was to find out what was in the mystery box. And then, when the show ended and—inevitably—very few questions were ultimately answered, fans were left disappointed, frustrated, and, at worst, betrayed.
No Spoilers!
In his book about Bitcoin, Benjamin Wallace asks many insightful questions: Why do we want to know so badly who Satoshi Nakamoto is? What’s so intriguing about this mystery? But one question in particular stood out to me while reading the book: Why does it matter who he is?
If and when the world ever answers this mystery, will it be satisfied with the resolution? Say we find out it’s Nick Szabo or Hal Finney or any of the other top contenders. What happens then? We all shrug and go about our day.
The mystery is much more compelling than whatever the answer is.
Like I said before, there are two types of people in the world. But they’re not the groups I outlined before. There are those who explore mysteries because they want to know the answer, and those who explore mysteries because they like mysteries.
I enjoy ambiguity. My favorite books and movies are all ones that are open to interpretation. The less we’re told, and the less we expect to be told, the better.
Take The Leftovers, one of my favorite TV shows. Lots of people hated it. The reason: The show gives no answers to anything. From the first episode, it flat-out suggested it never would. That’s the point. The show (or rather the novel upon which it was based) was written to address one question head-on: How do people cope with their inability to explain the unexplainable? It would be quite self-contradictory for the writers to provide answers in trying to explore this theme.
I recommend watching The Leftovers if you haven’t. And go in expecting an amazing set of mysteries that are enjoyable for no other reason than that they are mysteries. I recommend watching today’s best mystery-driven shows like Severance or Squid Game and avoiding all spoilers and theorizing and simply enjoying the ride. I recommend reading Benjamin Wallace’s book and speculating for yourself who Satoshi Nakamoto might be. And be comfortable knowing you’ll either: 1) never know for sure or, 2) find out and be disappointed.
But either way, enjoy the ride.
Like Aerosmith said: “Life’s a journey, not a destination.”