A year ago, I joined a debate on Twitter Spaces: “Has Bitcoin’s rise been driven by faith or by capital manipulation?” Deep down, I believed this debate was unnecessary. Afterward, I even found myself in a prolonged state of discouragement.
I have always held that the true foundation of the crypto industry is consensus and culture—in essence, faith. When I left my traditional job four years ago to fully commit to this space, I did so with this conviction. The markets have taken me through countless emotional highs and lows, but my belief has never wavered.
For crypto participants, 2025 has been a year of disappointment. As the year ends, we still haven’t addressed the market’s biggest challenge: a broken narrative and a loss of conviction.
As an ordinary industry professional, my work may be routine, but over the past four years, I’ve observed and reflected on many things. I always sensed that one day I’d organize these thoughts into an article. That time has come.
Christianity has Jesus, Buddhism has the Buddha, Islam has Muhammad—and Bitcoin has Satoshi Nakamoto.
Christianity has the Bible, Buddhism has the Sutras, Islam has the Quran—and Bitcoin has “Bitcoin: A Peer-to-Peer Electronic Cash System.”
If we dig deeper, Bitcoin shares many parallels with traditional religions. It has its own doctrine (the belief that the modern financial order will ultimately collapse and Bitcoin will serve as a “Noah’s Ark” at the end of that era), its own rituals (mining and HODLing), has experienced schisms, and, as it grew, has even been used by governments for specific aims—just like established faiths.
Yet, if we call Bitcoin a “modern religion,” we must also ask: how does it differ from traditional faiths?
First, decentralization. In today’s crypto world, the term sometimes carries a hint of irony, but it remains Bitcoin’s defining feature. Here, I’m not referring to how decentralized a blockchain network’s operations are, but whether consensus itself is reached through a decentralized process.
Satoshi Nakamoto, Bitcoin’s “creator,” chose self-exile, relinquishing authority and birthing a new world. Bitcoin has no central authority—no figurehead who holds divine power. Unlike traditional religions, it grew from the bottom up. The Bitcoin whitepaper and the genesis block’s message—“The Times 03/Jan/2009 Chancellor on brink of second bailout for banks”—have never changed. Anyone can interpret them however they wish.
Satoshi is the most human-like “creator,” yet also the least, having demonstrated a non-human moral standard or idealism. Satoshi not only controlled Bitcoin worth billions but also had the power to destroy the system—like holding a button that could end the world—yet simply vanished. After all these years, Bitcoin believers still trust Satoshi to safeguard the world he created. Today, even governments have come to believe. It’s extraordinary.
Second, the Internet. Unlike traditional religions, which spread through face-to-face preaching, conquest, or migration, the Internet allows Bitcoin to transcend geography and linear growth. Meme culture gives Bitcoin a unique modern appeal, especially among younger generations.
There’s also “contribution and reward,” and “schism and expansion.” Both are critical—they define modern religion as a “faith capital market.”
If you believe in Bitcoin, there’s no need to fast or practice asceticism. Just run a full Bitcoin node or hold Bitcoin.
When your faith is challenged—by the block size wars or by smart contract platforms like Ethereum or Solana—there’s no holy war. You still just run a node or hold Bitcoin.
Running a node or holding Bitcoin serves as a ritual in this faith. These rituals don’t promise a better life or a blissful afterlife. Instead, they deliver tangible material and spiritual rewards through price appreciation.
Likewise, the block size wars and the rise of new chains like Ethereum and Solana have ultimately driven the total crypto market cap higher. In crypto, conflict over beliefs doesn’t lead to violence or spiritual conquest. Instead, it fuels growth—unlike traditional religions, which have divided the world through conflict, crypto’s “wars” spark creation and expansion, like the universe after the Big Bang.
The universe is vast, with room for countless Earths. Capital markets are vast, with room for countless tokenized beliefs.
Bitcoin is a modern religion. But by creating the “faith capital market,” its meaning goes far beyond any single faith. I call it the “religion without religion.” Like traditional faiths, Bitcoin has undergone secularization—rituals evolved from running nodes to HODLing, and now, few participants focus on their original meaning. Bitcoin sits quietly atop the market as a totem. Just as Christmas is no longer a purely Christian holiday, people celebrate the season regardless of faith.
One could say Bitcoin is cryptocurrency itself—if Bitcoin collapses, the crypto market vanishes. All crypto value is rooted in Bitcoin. But I hesitate to define Bitcoin this way. What is its core value? Digital gold? Tokenized energy? Fiat killer? To me, Bitcoin’s true value lies in establishing the modern “faith capital market.”
For traditional religions and Bitcoin alike, secularization is a double-edged sword.
Take Christmas: global commercial activity around Christmas—retail, gifts, travel, decorations—now far exceeds the economic output of traditional Christian institutions. According to Statista and the NRF, US holiday retail sales in 2024 will reach $973 billion, with 2025 set to break $1 trillion for the first time. The US accounts for 40–50% of global Christmas spending.
By comparison, Christianity’s “traditional” commercial output—donations, church admissions, book and souvenir sales—totals about $1.304 trillion globally, per Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary’s “Status of Global Christianity 2024.”
Excluding non-Christian contributions to religious tourism and souvenirs, the real number is even lower.
Secularization turned Christmas from a religious holiday into a global cultural event. This expanded Christianity’s influence but diluted its core.
The same is true for Bitcoin and the faith capital market. Just as many now see Christmas as a day of joy, more people enter the crypto market purely to speculate.
This isn’t right or wrong—it’s inevitable. The real question is: enjoying Christmas hasn’t shaken Christians’ faith, but has the speculation wave eroded Bitcoin believers’ conviction?
Secularization doesn’t make Christians doubt their faith during the holidays, but the speculative frenzy in crypto has left some believers feeling lost and defeated. The viral Twitter post “I wasted 8 years of my life in crypto” is proof.
So, what’s the real issue?
I’m cautious about drawing conclusions. From a crypto insider’s perspective, maybe there’s some truth to it—but more likely, Bitcoin’s growth has simply outpaced the expansion of its base of true believers.
More importantly, the crypto industry has become obsessed with the “technology myth.” Both builders and speculators keep asking, “What else can blockchain do?” Entrepreneurs chase new directions, speculators chase new bets. When everyone pursues faster, more efficient, more “useful” blockchains, it’s a kind of self-harm.
If crypto is just another Nasdaq, it’s simply wasting money by repeating the same old playbook. But the real harm is eroding the essence of the faith capital market and depleting belief itself.
Without Christianity, there’s no pop-culture Christmas. Without a capital market forged by faith, there’s no paradise for builders and speculators. If we ignore this, we’ll keep asking, “What new narrative can attract more people to crypto?”
Both traditional religions and crypto must constantly ask: “How do we attract young people with different cultural tastes?” Bitcoin has already answered that question, shocking traditional faiths in less than 20 years. Now, Bitcoin and the entire crypto industry must face this challenge again.
Meme coins are the savior of the crypto industry.
The faith capital market is built on Bitcoin, but that doesn’t mean we need a resurgence of Bitcoin maximalism. The most fundamentalist, fanatical religious elements are always niche. Cypherpunk ideals and doomsday prophecies about traditional finance don’t excite younger generations—and are increasingly hard to grasp.
In other words, reviving Bitcoin as a religion is actually underestimating it. What we need is to revive the “religion without religion”—the idea that through the Internet, anyone’s belief can coalesce in the crypto market, generating both wealth and power.
Bitcoin’s core value is “we both believe it has value.” That sounds obvious, but it’s a revolutionary decentralization of value itself. Anyone can write “one gram of gold” on paper, but convincing others is another story. Bitcoin started from nothing—no authority, no backing—yet crossed language, culture, and geography to win recognition from institutions and governments. That achievement is deeply underestimated.
Throughout history, individual consciousness has been fragile and easily dismissed. Most of the world’s resources are spent on “wars of the mind”—politics, advertising, education—all designed to shape what we believe is good or bad.
The Internet is extraordinary: it lets our ideas cross all boundaries, 24/7. Crypto is extraordinary: it shows what we can accomplish when our beliefs grow exponentially and reach scale.
The greatness of crypto is not only underestimated—it’s often misunderstood. Building houses is a feat, but their true value is shelter. “A peer-to-peer electronic cash system” is brilliant, but its true value is that people agree Bitcoin is valuable and usable as money. Over the years, we’ve built countless “better” blockchains, hoping that would bring more people in.
It’s like believing Christmas can be mass-produced without religion. We think having a sword makes us a master, but in truth, we have neither sword in hand nor in heart.
Second, meme coins have never seen a full, mature bull cycle. Many still see them as pure speculation. The rise of pump.fun and Trump’s token launch last year further muddied the definition, turning meme coins into mere “attention tokens.”
So what is a true meme coin? Honestly, I dislike the term. It arose because early $DOGE and $SHIB succeeded despite being seen as useless. We always look for reasons after the fact, but ignore the power of belief. So, their success is attributed to a smiling dog image, and we call them “meme coins.” Then we endlessly recycle Internet meme icons—Pepe, Wojak, Joe…
I must credit Murad—he was the first to systematically define “meme coin,” propose quantifiable standards, and present his theory on a large stage. His “meme coin supercycle” thesis has had real impact in crypto.
He nailed a key point: meme is just “syntactic sugar” for faith assets. True faith assets, like Bitcoin, must clearly express their doctrine, their purpose, what they seek to change, and how they aim to reshape the world.
That’s why $SPX is compelling—it openly mocks traditional finance by aiming to outperform the S&P 500. That’s why $NEET resonates—it calls the 9-to-5 grind a scam and seeks to awaken people from wage slavery.
Just as Bitcoin believers endure hardship through wild price swings, building true faith assets is never easy. New “religions” beyond Bitcoin must find their own identity, unify large communities, and expand their influence. This is a long road, and not every step is reflected in price action.
Meme coins are the savior of crypto because, when people realize “meme coin” is a misnomer and “faith assets” shine again, they’ll exclaim, “Meme coins are back!” In reality, faith assets are the market’s essence. I won’t say they’re indispensable—they exist by nature.
The world’s attention shifts constantly—year by year, month by month, day by day, even hour by hour. Crypto can’t always be the hottest topic. If we lose faith, this industry deserves to die.
Greatness can’t be planned. None of us knows what will make crypto the next global phenomenon. This is a long, arduous journey. Bitcoin is a sociological model, a cyber religion, a new religious form. If we forget this, the entire crypto industry is just “business” built on Bitcoin’s consensus. Businesspeople don’t care about consensus—they care about revenue growth.
I can’t change anything, nor do I intend to. But I’ll continue to believe in the faith capital market.





