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2012. Then he said there was

going

to

be

a

Bitcoin

conference in Amsterdam in

June 2012. Finally he got to

the

conference

he

was

planning in Pattaya, Thailand,

only six months away.

“If that’s not enough,” he

said, there would also be the

first-ever Bitcoin cruise in

Brazil.

The audience sat silent,

with more than a few arched

eyebrows, as if to ask—“Was

that really it?” But Wagner

did not pick up on the

skepticism.

The crowd, though, had

not come for Wagner. The

attendees had come for each

other. And as the brief

planned

portion

of

the

conference concluded—after

a big group picture—the

conversation continued all

evening and all night, moving

to the Hudson Eatery, one of

three restaurants that Wagner

had

convinced

to

take

Bitcoin.

There, Roger Ver, the

Tokyo entrepreneur, talked

with the Google engineer,

Charlie Lee, who described

the computers that he had in

his garage, mining Bitcoins.

They were noisy, blowing out

heat, and had begun to annoy

Lee’s wife. Roger offered to

house

the

computers

at

Memory Dealers’ offices in

Silicon Valley.

Jesse

Powell,

Roger’s

friend who had helped out

during the Mt. Gox crisis,

found a kindred spirit in Mt.

Gox’s creator, Jed McCaleb,

who shared the same laid-

back, nerd-cool sensibility.

Jesse told Jed about his

experiences over the summer

in

Tokyo

with

Mark

Karpeles. And Jed told Jesse

about his recent ideas for a

new

cryptocurrency

that

would not require Bitcoin’s

energy-intensive

mining

process. Meanwhile, Gavin

was surrounded by people

offering to help with the goals

he’d set out in his talk.

Despite

his

aversion

to

crowds,

the

event

was

intimate

enough,

and

overflowed

with

enough

enthusiasm that even he got

into it.

The spirit in the restaurant

was no small part of what

was allowing Bitcoin to

survive.

A

project

that

seemed aimed at furthering

an even greater virtualization

and atomization of our world

was actually creating a sense

of real-world community with

people

working

together,

animated by a shared sense of

purpose for changing the

world.

The

community,

which mostly lived online,

wasn’t

always

this

harmonious.

But

it

was

possible, and the sense of

community was a significant

draw for a group of people

who didn’t always find it easy

to find like-minded people in

the ordinary world.

When it came time to pay

the bill, the waiter had little

idea of how to actually handle

the Bitcoins and it took over

an hour to get everyone’s

money transferred. But no

one much cared, or bothered

to

remark

on

the

cumbersomeness

of

this

supposedly

space-age

payment mechanism. It gave

everyone more chance to talk.

CHAPTER 10

September 2011

When Roger Ver returned

to Tokyo, he was immersed

in plotting his next big

Bitcoin campaign with a

twenty-six-year-old who had

marched up to him during the

conference in New York and

handed him a business card

that read, “I am friends with

Satoshi,” under the name Erik

Voorhees.

“We should talk,” Erik

had said to Roger.

With a confidence and

poise that were notable for

someone

his

age,

Erik

explained to Roger that since

learning about Bitcoin from a

Facebook posting just a few

weeks after Roger came on

the scene, he, Erik, had been

intently watching Roger’s

work online, cheering him on

from afar, and doing similar

evangelizing

for

Bitcoin

whenever he could.

Erik had recently moved

back to the United States

from Dubai, where he had

gone for a job in real estate

marketing after college. He

and his college sweetheart

had chosen to settle in a small

seaside

town

in

New

Hampshire, where they joined

the Free State Project, a

movement founded on the

idea that if several thousand

ardent

antigovernment

activists gathered in one

small

state,

they

could

influence

the

political

direction of that state. New

Hampshire was an obvious

choice, with its motto, “Live

free or die.” Free Talk Live, the radio show that had

introduced Roger to Bitcoin,

was hosted by other members

of the Free State Project.

Erik had grown up in the

mountain town of Keystone,

Colorado, where he had

become an adept skier and

mountain biker. In high

school, he learned to DJ,

playing house and techno

music at local parties. As an

undergraduate

at

the

University of Puget Sound, he

joined

the

Sigma

Chi

fraternity.

But he also had a more

serious, political side that he

got

from

his

father,

a

passionate advocate for free

markets and entrepreneurs

who had built his own

jewelry business. His father

had

been

a

competitive

debater and urged Erik to

follow in his footsteps, given

Erik’s smooth way with

words. Erik, though, had

discovered that he could not

convincingly argue a point he

did not believe in, and so he

threw himself into advocating

for the ideas he did believe in.

After the financial crisis,

Erik

became

particularly

fascinated by the role that

central

banks

played

in

maintaining

government

power. He came to believe

that it was only through

printing

money

that

governments were able to pay

for their budgets and wars.

Monetary policy had been

one of the issues he was most

passionate about when he

joined the Free State Project.

But when he discovered

Bitcoin, he saw a shortcut to

achieving his goal of a world

without government power.

Erik had largely abandoned

his efforts to find a new job

and went deeper into credit

card debt so that he could

spend his time evangelizing

for Bitcoin.

“You don’t have to try to

vote your way into changing

the world,” he would tell

anyone who listened. “If

Bitcoin works, then it will