By: @DanielLHinton
Title inspired by Raleigh Bitcoin Podcast Ep. 77 “Hard Pork”
This story is inspired by George Orwell’s classic novella, “Animal Farm”. I highly encourage you to read this timeless masterpiece.
Chapter 1: Humble beginnings
Generations ago, Fiat Fields Manor began as a humble poultry farm owned and operated by the Chairman family. The chickens earned an honest living, laying eggs and tending to their coops. In return for their eggs, Mr. Chairman paid them in the family’s own currency, “Cluck Bucks“. In those days, one egg was worth 1 Cluck Buck and a chicken was able to pay for all the necessities of life, and even save a bit for old age from this income. The system seemed to work well enough, and the chickens were content with their simple lives.
Over time, the farm passed down through generations of Chairmans to the present where it is currently run by Mr. Chairman, as the animals call him. It was Mr. Chairman who introduced other animals to the farm. First came the cows, who were tasked with producing milk. They, too, were paid in Cluck Bucks for their production. Sheep, horses, and many other animals also made their way to the farm and each was paid in Cluck Bucks by Mr. Chairman for their respective contributions.
A few years ago, Mr. Chairman began paying 5 Cluck Bucks per egg to the Chickens. Similar increases were also seen by the other animals. Every animal was elated with Mr. Chairman’s generosity and interest in their wellbeing, but the sheep were the most vocal, bleating “Mr. Chair-man he’s a rare-man” for nearly three days straight. The animals were thrilled to receive higher wages for their work and they felt richer and more prosperous than ever before.
Mr. Chairman, who ran the farm’s store, said he was unfortunately forced to raise the prices of grain, straw beds, and other necessities so as to avoid shortages developing as animals vied to spend their newfound income. The animals soon realized that despite their increased wages, they were actually getting the same amount of grain and their straw beds were no softer than when Mr. Chairman paid 1 Cluck Buck per egg.
To make matters worse, older animals who had saved when it was 1 Cluck Buck per egg, and who now had little to no income, presently found the value of their savings diluted more and more each day.
Still, many of the animals did feel a great deal richer, and it was determined that raising the prices of the goods in the general store was an unavoidable, yet unfortunate, side effect of his generosity. Mr. Chairman was simply doing all he could to protect the farm from ruin from selfish animals attempting to hoard excess goods.
As the weeks passed, Mr. Chairman announced the introduction of a new “farm maintenance tax.” He claimed that this tax, which all animals had to pay in Cluck Bucks, was necessary to keep the farm running smoothly and to fund essential repairs and upgrades. The animals, already struggling with the rising cost of living, were dismayed by this additional financial burden.
Despite the increased tax, the animals noticed no visible improvements to the farm. The barn roof continued to leak, the fences remained in disrepair, and the quality of the feed in the store even seemed to decline. Whispers began to circulate that Mr. Chairman was simply lining his own pockets with the extra Cluck Bucks, rather than investing in the farm as he had promised. Surely this couldn’t be the case since it was a known fact that Mr. Chairman had a special printer in the cellar where he designed and printed new Cluck Bucks. Why would he need to take from the animals if he could simply print any new bills he needed?
Finally, only a few days ago, Mr. Chairman declared that all animals must spend their saved Cluck Bucks within the next month, or their savings would become void. He claimed that this measure was necessary to stimulate the farm’s economy and prevent hoarding.
The animals were thrown into a panic. Those who had diligently saved for years, hoping to secure a comfortable future, now found themselves forced to spend their hard-earned Cluck Bucks on things they didn’t need so they weren’t left with nothing. The farm descended into chaos as animals scrambled to purchase items from the store, desperate to salvage what little value remained in their savings.
Amidst the confusion and anger, Satoshi, the wisest of the pigs, asked the animals of the farm to gather that evening for a discussion of the utmost importance.
Chapter 2: A new system
It was late in the evening when Satoshi finished sharing the system he had developed in recent months with the other animals of Fiat Fields Manor. As the animals dispersed to their sleeping quarters, they couldn’t stop thinking about the fascinating ideas he had presented. It was something that no one thought was possible. Digital scarcity. A monetary system without central control and immune to unexpected inflation. Financial sovereignty for any animal who chose. A system of rules without rulers – including those with the name Chairman.
Tragically, just three nights later, Satoshi passed away peacefully in his sleep. Though he hadn’t named a successor, the pigs quickly asserted themselves as the natural leaders to carry on his great work. They were the smartest animals on the farm, and had been working closely with Satoshi to understand the system for the short while they were together.
In those early days, the whole farm buzzed with excitement. The pigs worked feverishly to improve the network and fix bugs, often coding and debating late into the night. Benjamin, a donkey, was the oldest animal on the farm, and the worst tempered. He seldom talked, and when he did, it was usually to make some cynical remark-for instance to say that God had given him a tail to keep the flies off, but that he would sooner have had no tail and no flies. Even skeptical old Benjamin couldn’t help but be impressed by what they were building. “Perhaps this idea has some merit after all,” he thought to himself while chomping on a mouthful of hay.
One morning, Mr. Chairman approached Bertha’s nest to collect her eggs, as he had done countless times before. He reached in, expecting to find a clutch of perfect speckled eggs, but instead, he found a single note written in Bertha’s scratchy handwriting: “No more Cluck Bucks for this hen!”
Mr. Chairman was furious. He had tolerated the animals’ experimentation with the new system, but he couldn’t allow a chicken to undermine his authority. He stormed over to Bertha, who was calmly pecking at some feed in the yard.
“Listen here, you stubborn bird,” he shouted, his face turning red with anger. “You will accept Cluck Bucks for your eggs, just like every other animal on this farm. I won’t have you disrupting the order of things!”
Bertha looked up at Mr. Chairman, her eyes gleaming with determination. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chairman,” she said calmly, “but I believe in this new system. It’s the future of our farm, and I won’t be a part of the old way anymore.”
In a fit of rage, Mr. Chairman lunged at Bertha, his hands outstretched. Before any of the other animals could react, he had wrung her neck, and she lay lifeless at his feet.
The animals of Fiat Fields Manor were shocked and outraged. They had seen Mr. Chairman kill before, after all it is a farm, but this was a new low. The pigs, who had been working tirelessly to implement and improve the new system, called for an immediate meeting.
At the meeting, the animals decided that Mr. Chairman had no place at Fiat Fields Manor. They demanded that he leave the farm immediately and never return. Faced with the united front of the animals, Mr. Chairman had no choice but to pack his bags and leave in disgrace.
From that day forward, the animals committed themselves to honoring Bertha’s memory by fully embracing the new system. They knew that her sacrifice had not been in vain, and that her courage had helped pave the way for a brighter future for all of them.
To ensure the animals remembered the core rules of the system, the pigs wrote them onto the barn wall:
- The code is the spec.
- The rules are set by consensus.
- The system is for anyone.
- Not your keys, not your coins.
- There will only ever be 21,000,000 units.
Every animal on the farm memorized the rules as well as they were able. The sheep in particular took great pride in reciting them at every opportunity. It became their mantra, a comforting reminder of what they were working towards.
Slowly but surely, Fiat Fields Manor and its inhabitants began to prosper in ways they never had under Mr. Chairman’s rule. The fields were lush with crops, the harvests were bountiful, and the animals had more leisure time than ever before. The occasional disagreement between the pigs about how to improve the system did little to dampen their spirits. They even started calling their home “Freedom Farm”.
Chapter 3: The code is the spec
As the weeks rolled on, the pigs began to assert more and more control over the system. At first it was little things – minor “upgrades” here, small “improvements” there.
“Are we not the smartest animals on the farm?” Squealer, a pig, would ask rhetorically. “Do we not know what’s best for the system?”
When any debate arose, the sheep, ever loyal, would begin bleating the pigs’ praises. Even when proposed changes seemed to contradict their established principles, the sheep could be counted on to drown out any dissent with chants of “Twen-ty-one mill-i-on” and “Not your keys, not your coins!”.
But some animals weren’t so easily swayed. The chickens and ducks were frustrated that any “upgrade” proposed by the pigs only took into account their needs. Others like Boxer, the most powerful horse on the farm, would just put his head down and focus on his work, refusing to get dragged into discussions about the inner-workings of the system.
Seeing how many of the other animals enjoyed reading the system’s most important rules on the barn wall, but who were unable to read the code, the Pigs proposed a slight change to the wording of the first rule from: “The code is the spec” to “The spec is the spec”. This change was easily agreed to by all the animals since it was clearly not only true, but seemed to make the sentence more true than before. Indeed, it could not be argued by anyone that the spec was not the spec.
Chapter 4: The rules are set by consensus
That fall, the farm took in the largest harvest in living memory. The animals felt comforted that their new system was allowing them to enjoy the necessary work and leisure of daily life with less worry about the future.
By this time, the Pigs had developed more complex and detailed processes and committees for promoting continued development of the system. One example of their efforts was to codify the process by which changes to the system could be proposed, studied, and implemented. They formalized their improvements to the system under a new organization called Consensus, which was composed of the most elite group of pigs.
The first act of the newly organized Consensus was to modify the spec to read “The rules are set by Consensus.” This small change was met with commensurately small skepticism by Boxer who did not understand why he was no longer allowed to propose changes to the system. He argued that although he had never actually proposed a change and could not write code, he liked the idea that he could if he wanted. The voting members of Consensus were unmoved.
When questioned about apparent discrepancies between their upgrades to the original principles, Squealer was always quick to offer reassurances. “Comrades!” he would proclaim, his jowls jiggling with indignation. “Do you not see that everything Consensus does is in service of protecting and enhancing the system? We must adapt to changing circumstances and not let ourselves be constrained by dogma!” It was hard to argue that Consensus did not have the Farm’s best interest at heart. It only made sense that the future of the system, and thus the Farm, should not be allowed to be needlessly controlled by inexperienced or less intelligent animals. After all, not one animal on the farm wanted Mr. Chairman to come back as Squealer had suggested may happen if the change had not been made.
Chapter 5: The system is for anyone
As the crisp autumn air settled over Freedom Farm, the animals reveled in the comfort and stability their new system provided. The birds chirped merrily in the trees, the ants marched diligently in their colonies, and the spiders spun intricate webs in the corners of the barn.
One day, Napoleon, a prominent member of Consensus, called a meeting to discuss an important matter. “Comrades,” he began, his snout held high, “it has come to our attention that not all animals on the farm are using our revolutionary system. The birds, ants, and spiders continue to live outside of our economy and have never participated in our progress.”
The animals murmured amongst themselves, some nodding in agreement, while others looked puzzled. Napoleon continued, “In the spirit of equality and inclusivity, we propose that the third rule, ‘The system is for anyone,’ be changed to ‘The system is for everyone.’ This way, all creatures on the farm will be required to participate in our glorious new world.”
The sheep, always quick to support the pigs, began bleating enthusiastically, “Ev-ery-one! Ev-ery-one! The sys-tem is-for ev-ery-one!”
However, some animals were not so easily convinced. Charlotte, a friendly spider who had spun her web in the rafters for years, spoke up. “I understand your intention, Napoleon, but I do not need a straw bed, or grain and apples to eat, so I do not need to use the system.”
The birds and ants chirped and chattered in agreement, but their voices were drowned out by the sheep’s incessant chanting. Consensus, swayed by the apparent majority, voted to change the rule, and the barn wall was promptly updated to reflect the new wording.
In the following weeks, the birds, ants, and spiders either left the Freedom Farm or found themselves forced to deal in the farm’s new system, even though they had little use for it. The birds struggled to carry the heavy signing devices as they flew, the ants found it difficult to remember their 12 words, and the spiders’ webs became tangled with the weight of the new responsibilities to which they were unaccustomed.
As discontent grew among these smaller creatures, the farm began to suffer. The birds no longer sang their sweet melodies, the ants neglected their crucial role in maintaining the soil, and the spiders’ webs, once beautiful and functional, lay in tatters as flies overran the interior of the barn.
Chapter 6: Not your keys, not your coins
As the farm entered the depths of winter, the animals huddled together for warmth in the barn. The pigs, after sitting idle for weeks yet feeling exhausted from being molested day and night by swarms of flies, called a meeting to discuss a pressing issue.
“Comrades,” Napoleon began, “it has come to our attention that some animals on the farm are struggling to manage their own keys. It is unfortunate that weaker and less intelligent animals cannot handle the responsibilities of being entrusted with their own keys. We propose a solution.”
The animals leaned in, eager to hear the pigs’ proposal. Napoleon cleared his throat and continued, “We have established a fully trustworthy, federated board of pigs who will be tasked with storing keys for every animal who so chooses. This way, their value will be completely reserved, and they need not worry about the hardships brought upon them by the system.”
The sheep, ever supportive of the pigs, began bleating, “Cus-to-dy! It’s-for-me!”
Some animals, like Benjamin the donkey, were skeptical. “But what about the fourth rule? ‘Not your keys, not your coins’? Doesn’t this go against that principle?”
Squealer, always ready with a persuasive response, chimed in. “Ah, but you see, Benjamin, we must adapt the rule to better serve the needs of our community. By changing it to ‘Not our keys, not our coins,’ we emphasize that it is our collective responsibility to ensure the safety of assets held by the board. If we are not able to efficiently make the system usable by every animal it may fail and Mr. Chairman could come back. Consensus will not stand by and risk the end of our beloved way of life from the quibbles of an instigator who is a known enemy of progress.”
The animals, swayed by Squealer’s rhetoric and the sheep’s chanting, nodded in agreement to the change, meanwhile, during the discussion, Napoleon had already shimmied up the barn wall and painted over the “y”s to reflect the new rule: “Not our keys, not our coins.”
In the following weeks, many animals of all kinds enthusiastically embraced the new federated reserve board. It made them feel comforted to know that the best and brightest of Freedom Farm were protecting them from themselves.
However, problems soon arose. The swine on the reserve board implemented strict Know Your Creature (“KYC”) requirements, demanding that all animals provide detailed personal information before being able to withdraw any value from the board’s vault. This proved particularly challenging for the sheep, as many of them were indistinguishable to the pigs.
One day, a cunning sheep approached Squealer to take out a large amount from the vault. Squealer squinted at the sheep’s ID, turning it upside down and sideways, before finally shrugging and declaring, “Eh, close enough! You all look the same to me anyway.”
Furthermore, rumors began to circulate that some swine on the reserve board were spending money that wasn’t theirs. Whispers of lavish troughs filled with the finest slop and luxurious mud baths funded by the animals’ entrusted funds spread throughout the farm.
To make matters worse, it was discovered that some pigs had lost the keys for a considerable amount of value entrusted to them by other animals. The affected creatures found themselves unable to access their funds, their life savings disappearing into the ether.
Chapter 7: There will only ever be 21,000,000 units
As spring arrived on the farm, the animals were still reeling from the issues surrounding the federated reserve board. The pigs, sensing growing unrest, called for another meeting to address the concerns.
Napoleon stood before the gathered animals, his snout held high. “Comrades, it has come to our attention that the brave members of the reserve board have foiled an attempt by Mr. Chairman to steal our valuable units. Although, unfortunately, some of the units entrusted to the reserve board have been temporarily lost, it is only thanks to our quick action that these units have been rendered unspendable rather than fall into the hands of Mr. Chairman. In recognition of these valiant efforts, Squealer and the other reserve board members have graciously honored me with the title of “Reserve Board Chair, First Class”.
“Also, as you know, several animals on the farm have passed into the great beyond this last year; many of whom made no plans for what should happen to their units upon their passing. Let me assure you that this is not a cause for alarm.” The animals murmured amongst themselves, unsure of what this meant for their own savings. Squealer stepped forward to clarify.
“You see, friends, the units for which the keys were lost are no longer in circulation. As such, it is perfectly right for us to replace them to maintain the integrity of our system. Consensus has just last night ratified the proper interpretation of the fifth rule, from ‘There will only ever be 21,000,000 units’ to ‘There will only ever be 21,000,000 units in circulation.'”
The sheep, always quick to latch onto a catchy slogan, began to chant, “Not-too-late. Cir-cu-late!”
Benjamin, the old donkey, spoke up once more. “But isn’t this just a way for the pigs to print more money for themselves?”
Squealer was prepared for this question. “Nonsense, Benjamin! We have calculated that approximately 2% of the units will be lost each year due to various circumstances. To ensure the stability of our system, the reserve board will simply print an equal amount to replace these lost units. This is for the good of all animals on the farm!”
The other animals, confused by the complex economic theories, nodded along, believing that the pigs must know what was best for them.
And so, the last rule was corrected on the barn wall, now reading: “There will only ever be 21,000,000 units in circulation.” The pigs, pleased with their clever manipulation, retired to their cozy sty to discuss how they would distribute the newly printed units among themselves.
Meanwhile, the other animals toiled away, blissfully unaware that their hard-earned savings were slowly being eroded by the very system they had entrusted to protect them.
Chapter 8: Conclusion
As the years passed, life on Freedom Farm began to change. The pigs spent more and more time in the farmhouse, wheeling and dealing with human farmers from neighboring lands. The sounds of their laughter and clinking glasses carried across the fields where the other animals toiled.
One evening, some of the animals crept up to the farmhouse window to see what was happening inside. They were shocked by what they saw. The pigs and the humans were sitting around a table, enjoying a sumptuous feast. But what struck the animals most was how similar the two groups appeared. They all wore the same suits, drank the same expensive liquors, and laughed at the same jokes. From the window, the animals looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which. Benjamin pushed his ear to the window and heard the muffled voice of a neighboring farm owner say “We raise our glasses to Napoleon, or as his friends call him, Mr. Chairman.”
THE END
Appendix:
Core rules of the system:
- The code is the spec. → The spec is the spec.
- The rules are set by consensus. → The rules are set by Consensus.
- The system is for anyone. → The system is for everyone.
- Not your keys, not your coins. → Not our keys, not our coins.
- There will only ever be 21,000,000 units. → There will only ever be 21,000,000 units in circulation.