Ethereum, the Utopia That Was Misplaced
TechFlow Selected TechFlow Selected
Ethereum, the Utopia That Was Misplaced
It has become the de facto standard, a dystopia I've repeatedly witnessed over the past few years.
Navigating Web3 tides with focused insightsAuthor: 0x5willows, TechFlow intern
This Wednesday, Time magazine will launch its first NFT issue, featuring Vitalik Buterin, founder of Ethereum, on the cover. As a teaser, the magazine released an interview with Buterin ahead of time—and it quickly went viral. Even people who previously didn’t care about crypto began asking: Who is Vitalik?
Being featured on the cover of Time—arguably the most influential weekly magazine in the world—is no exaggeration to call a "coveted honor." I have no doubt that Buterin himself couldn't care less about fame or recognition. Yet I can sense his deep, almost paternal affection for Ethereum, as if it were his own child.
Buterin expressed concerns during the interview. What struck me most was when he said: "It has become the de facto standard—a dystopia I’ve seen unfolding over the past few years."
The "it" here refers to token-based voting mechanisms prevalent in DAOs. Buterin fears this mechanism may evolve into a dystopian reality.
How familiar this narrative feels—the revolution devouring its own children.
The Revolutionary: Buterin
This is a story barely 14 years old. The mysterious figure known by the pseudonym Satoshi launched the opening chapter and then vanished. Yet those dissatisfied with the centralized world continued down his path, one after another, entering the crypto realm.
While Bitcoin struck directly at the heart of centralized currency, it arrived too hastily. Crypto needed a more mature protocol framework. Then came Buterin, bringing with him the genius vision of Ethereum.
If Satoshi is like the Parisian crowd firing the first shot at the Bastille, Ethereum is the National Constituent Assembly convened after the revolution began.
Bitcoin, as the vanguard, captured all the attention. But insiders know full well that the storming of the Bastille lacked organization—we needed to convene a constitutional assembly.
As the architect of this new world, Buterin was thrust into the role of revolutionary leader.
As reluctant as I am to admit it, among figures from the great revolutions of the past two centuries, the one most similar to Buterin is Robespierre.
Only, crypto’s revolution lacks bloodshed. Buterin won’t suffer Robespierre’s fate of being guillotined. Still, both would likely utter the same lament: “The revolution devours its own children.”
Buterin’s remarks in the Time interview are precisely such a lament.
And the reason for such lamentation? Perhaps today’s crypto world has strayed far from its original vision. Or perhaps the person he once was has already been abandoned by who he is now.
More often than not, both are true at once.
Ethereum in Controversy
Unlike Bitcoin, which exists primarily as a consensus asset, Ethereum was born with a greater mission.
Bitcoin is the money of the new world. It only needs to be understood and accepted by more people. It doesn’t need to change—its strength lies precisely in its unchanging nature.
Ethereum, however, is different. It is the productive platform of the new world. It must prove itself from the outset, ensuring sufficient stability and reliability to support towering applications atop its foundation.
High transaction fees have already driven many users away. Kyle Davies, co-founder of Three Arrows Capital, bluntly stated on social media: “Though I once supported Ethereum, I’ve abandoned it. Though Ethereum once supported users, it has now abandoned them.”
Even more critically, when doubts arise about the solidity of Ethereum’s foundational smart contracts, it has little room to maneuver—only drastic measures remain.
In June 2016, The DAO—a project that had raised over 150 million ETH—was hacked due to a vulnerability in its contract code, resulting in the theft of 60 million dollars worth of ETH.
Faced with this major attack, two solutions emerged.
One was a soft fork: adding code to blacklist the attacker and prevent transfer of stolen funds. The other was a hard fork: rolling back the Ethereum blockchain to a state prior to the attack.
The Ethereum community voted and chose the hard fork.
The hard fork opened Pandora’s box. The principle of “code is law” faced its first crisis of trust. Since then, Ethereum has undergone multiple hard forks.
Whether willingly or under pressure, each successive hard fork represents a departure from the fundamental spirit of blockchain. No wonder critics accuse later hard forks of being essentially upgrades orchestrated by the Ethereum Foundation.
Building a productive platform within the crypto world is an unprecedented and daunting task. It's hard to say any alternative could have done better.
Still, Ethereum is clearly mired in the mud, becoming heavier and more cumbersome by the day.
A Misplaced Utopia
I first read Buterin’s writings in 2018. Compared to four years ago, today’s Buterin is undeniably more radical. His collaborator Glen Weyl put it more subtly: “He shifted from a mindset sympathetic to anarcho-capitalism toward a Georgist perspective.”
Buterin wants Ethereum to do more than serve as a playground for speculators. In his vision, Ethereum should become the “foundation of a new era of digital life,” and even exert political influence—pushing the world toward greater equality and justice, even if it means “offending some people.”
Thus, it’s understandable why Buterin sees troubling dystopian tendencies in today’s Ethereum. After all, compared to his ideal of a “living lab for human society and politics,” Ethereum still seems far off track.
Dystopia is the key word—it deserves closer examination.
Utopia means an “ideal society or state of affairs that cannot exist”; dystopia (or anti-utopia) refers to a “hypothetical society that is undesirable and frightening.”
Although both are translated as “dystopia” in Chinese, dystopian and anti-utopia differ. The former, more accurately called "cacotopia," focuses on depicting a terrible society, critiquing the present. The latter pushes a utopian ideal to its extreme, aiming to expose and satirize the flaws inherent in utopian thinking itself.
That might sound too abstract. A few examples could help. Cacotopian works like DC Comics, The Handmaid’s Tale, and V for Vendetta have become part of mainstream pop culture. Anti-utopian classics such as 1984, Brave New World, and We have entered the literary canon but faded from public view—treated as classical relics, shelved and forgotten.
I noticed Buterin used the term “dystopia”—confirming my suspicion. He’s probably read quite a bit of DC Comics.
Buterin resembles DC’s Dark Knight—yearning for a better future while despising the corruption of the present.
Critique of reality is always necessary. But the danger of cacotopia lies in amplifying imperfections infinitely—so much so that obsession with flaws easily becomes a new form of utopianism.
This is exactly why anti-utopian literature emerged. When anti-utopia turns into cacotopia, it circles back to the very starting point earlier thinkers warned against.
Knowing light, yet embracing darkness. The core message of classical anti-utopias is vigilance against all forms of utopian ideology—and thus they understand the essence of utopia best. That’s why we can tolerate imperfection, but never afford to lose what is most precious.
Friedrich Hayek, often regarded as the intellectual father of crypto, once faced a personal dilemma.
During WWII, Hayek lived in London as Nazi air raids intensified. Several neutral countries offered him asylum, forcing him to seriously consider where to send his young children.
Comparing Argentina, the United States, and Sweden—countries with vastly different social orders—Hayek’s criterion was simple: In which country would a person’s future depend least on predetermined status?
He ultimately chose the U.S., where rigid class hierarchies of the old world were absent—meaning inequality would have less impact, and anyone could succeed based on opportunity.
The new continent in the real world is finite. The new continent in crypto is infinite—that is crypto’s advantage.
Reality is complex. Often, it takes losing something precious for people to realize its value.
Crypto’s founders sought to design a system ensuring this irreplaceable element could never be taken away. At the heart of this system is decentralization.
Buterin certainly understands this. Yet I hear him speak endlessly about the threat of centralization in crypto—but never a word on why centralization itself is fundamentally unacceptable.
It compels one to ask: What is true decentralization, really?
In attacks against Binance Smart Chain, Ethereum supporters have even deployed projects containing politically sensitive terms onto BSC—hoping to provoke government action or force BSC to delist them, thereby proving its centralized nature.
Setting aside whether such tactics are ethical, isn’t the requirement of non-censorship inherent in decentralization at odds with Buterin’s hope that Ethereum serves the “righteous path”?
From Ethereum’s development history, one truth stands out: Ethereum has become too “heavy.” It’s forced to fork and scale repeatedly. And the pursuit of an increasingly politically correct form of decentralization has become a burden it cannot bear.
In short, Buterin treats Ethereum like the DC Universe. But in reality, the DC Universe exists only in certain DAOs. A system as vast as Ethereum inevitably follows the logic of the real world.
What drives capitalists to launch ICOs and miners to dig blocks is none other than profit.
Therefore, the key issue isn’t fairer voting mechanisms—even if I don’t doubt Buterin’s genius could devise a better scheme. All governance-level problems ultimately belong to the DC Universe.
The law of the real world remains: “All men hustle for gain; all men rush for profit.”
Not everyone shares Buterin’s passion for building a beautiful new world. When Ethereum ceases to be profitable, they will abandon it without hesitation, chasing newer platforms. Though Buterin graciously says he doesn’t mind Ethereum being replaced, any successor will surely be one with greater “prospects.”
In my view, crypto arose precisely to minimize social and political complexity—hence its radical slogan of “trustlessness.” And the way to preserve the character of this new continent is simpler: as little as possible, avoid adding unnecessary layers.
Rousseau, in Discourse on Inequality, described a pivotal moment: “When someone enclosed a piece of land and said ‘this is mine,’ inequality began—and primitive freedom was lost.”
Whenever free land in crypto gets fenced off—whether through token voting or mass referendums—it becomes an unmistakable dystopia.
The problem has never been about power distribution. Rather, in the crypto world, any power that violates free choice shouldn’t exist at all. Attempts to equalize power are Pandora’s box—they only generate more, and more uncontrollable, power.
Satoshi’s brief white paper still circulates. But today’s crypto is no longer what it once was. And today’s Buterin is no longer the wide-eyed youth who first heard of Bitcoin with joy.
If anything, Buterin has journeyed even further.
I’m reminded of Allen Ginsberg’s thunderous line: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness.”
Buterin hasn’t gone that far. Still, seeing his brilliant mind preoccupied with issues of the DC Universe, I can’t help but feel a tinge of regret.
Join TechFlow official community to stay tuned
Telegram:https://t.me/TechFlowDaily
X (Twitter):https://x.com/TechFlowPost
X (Twitter) EN:https://x.com/BlockFlow_News
