BITCOIN WITHOUT THE CODE

It's hard to find another contemporary phenomenon that generates so much discussion while remaining so poorly understood in its fundamental nature. Bitcoin is everywhere. In newspaper headlines, on television debates, in café conversations, in political speeches, in financial reports, in market alerts. We talk about its price, its spectacular rises, its brutal falls. We talk about those who get rich, those who lose, those who manipulate, those who promise, those who betray. We talk about scandals, lawsuits, ETFs, regulations, bans, and rehabilitations. Bitcoin has become a permanent media topic.

And yet, we almost never talk about what it truly is. This silence is not accidental. It is not due to a lack of available information, nor to an insurmountable difficulty in accessing knowledge. Bitcoin's code is public. Its rules are written. Its operation has been documented, analyzed, and dissected for over a decade. The consensus mechanisms, the economic incentives, the security logic, the immutability of the ledger—everything is accessible to anyone willing to take the time to look. What's lacking is information. What's lacking is interest.

The media coverage of Bitcoin follows an old, almost archaic logic. A logic that prioritizes visible movement over internal workings, human narrative over impersonal mechanisms, the event over the process. The price is visible. The scandal is visible. The charismatic figure is visible. The code, however, is not. It cannot be seen. It cannot be easily explained. It does not lend itself to short formats, quick debates, or strong opinions. The code is boring. And that is precisely why it is ignored.

Modern media are structured around storytelling. They need tension, conflict, heroes and antagonists. They need faces, personal journeys, drama, and plot twists. They need a before and after, a rise and a fall. Bitcoin, in its essential dimension, provides none of this. The code doesn't cause a scandal. It doesn't lie. It doesn't apologize. It doesn't disappoint. It makes no promises. It simply delivers.

This lack of drama poses a fundamental problem for media logic. A system that functions without intervening in the human narrative is difficult to integrate into an information cycle based on emotion and events. It is much simpler to talk about the price than the rule that makes it possible. Much simpler to talk about a supposed founder than about a distributed consensus. Much simpler to talk about manipulation than about an economic incentive mechanism.

The result is a truncated narrative. Bitcoin is reduced to what is visible on the surface of its ecosystem, not to what structures it at its core. Price becomes the central focus, as if it were the essence of the system, when it is merely a byproduct. Personalities become implicit representatives, as if Bitcoin needed spokespeople, when its operation depends on no human authority. ETFs become major events, as if Bitcoin's integration into traditional financial structures were its natural culmination, when it does not alter their internal rules. This misunderstanding is not merely a media phenomenon. It is cultural.

We live in a culture that values intention, narrative, and explicit meaning. We always seek to understand why something exists, what it wants, what it promises, what it stands for. But Bitcoin has no "why" in the moral or political sense. It has no intention. It has no message. It has no worldview to impose. It is a technical construct that applies precise rules within a defined framework. To ask it to produce a narrative is already to betray it.

The media are not designed to deal with this type of object. They are designed to tell human stories. When they encounter a system that functions independently of human narratives, they try to rehumanize it. They force it into familiar narrative frameworks. They talk about “revolution,” “threat,” “bubble,” “gamble,” “genius,” “collective madness.” They try to give intention to what has none. Code, however, resists this appropriation. To talk about code is to talk about fixed rules, technical compromises, austere choices, and accepted constraints. It is to talk about what does not change easily. About what evolves slowly, cautiously, sometimes at the cost of long and unspectacular conflicts. It is to talk about a long timescale that does not correspond to the media's pace. It is to talk about an object that does not need to be commented on to continue to exist.

There is also another, more uncomfortable reason for this silence surrounding the code. Discussing the code forces us to admit that Bitcoin is not based on trust in people or institutions, but on the acceptance of impersonal rules. This forces us to shift the debate. To move from the realm of opinion to that of verification. From the realm of morality to that of internal consistency. This shift is profoundly destabilizing. It deprives the commentator of their usual position. One cannot be "for or against" a consensus mechanism in the same way one can be for or against a public policy. One cannot denounce an economic incentive as one denounces a malicious intent. The code cannot be defended. It can be read. It can be executed. It either works or it fails.

This logic is foreign to a media culture based on constant commentary. Code doesn't need to be interpreted. It needs to be understood. And understanding is a slow, demanding process, poorly suited to the attention economy. It's therefore easier to talk about everything surrounding Bitcoin than about Bitcoin itself. To talk about those who misuse it, those who misappropriate it, those who speculate, those who promise absurd returns. All of this is real, but all of it is peripheral. These are human behaviors grafted onto a system that doesn't depend on them.

This disconnect creates a paradoxical situation. Bitcoin is omnipresent in public discourse, yet absent from any structural understanding. It is discussed as a social, financial, or political phenomenon, rarely as a protocol. As if the essential were secondary, and the secondary essential. This inversion has consequences. It fuels misunderstandings, fears, and excessive enthusiasm. It fosters the belief that Bitcoin could be “corrected” by regulation, “tamed” by financial integration, or “neutralized” by a ban. It perpetuates the illusion that Bitcoin is malleable, dependent on human decisions, when its defining characteristic is precisely to reduce this dependence.

What if Bitcoin is misunderstood because it's boring? This question is unsettling because it reverses the usual relationship between importance and visibility. We've become accustomed to believing that what is fundamental must be spectacular, that what matters must be seen, spoken about, and recounted. Bitcoin proposes the opposite. What matters is silent. What matters is stable. What matters doesn't manifest itself through events, but through continuity. The code doesn't seek to seduce. It doesn't need to be loved. It doesn't need to be defended on television. It doesn't need to be explained to everyone to function. It exists independently of how it's perceived. This indifference is precisely what makes it difficult to integrate into the media narrative.

Bitcoin isn't misunderstood despite the media frenzy. It's misunderstood because of it. As long as the discourse remains focused on price, scandals, and human figures, the heart of the system will remain out of sight. As long as the debate unfolds on the terrain of emotion and opinion, the code will remain invisible. And as long as the code remains invisible, Bitcoin will continue to be perceived as an unstable, unpredictable, almost irrational phenomenon. Understanding Bitcoin requires a shift in perspective. We must be willing to focus on what isn't spectacular. On what doesn't change often. On what promises nothing. On what has no moral agenda. We must accept boredom as a prerequisite for understanding. This boredom is not a flaw.

It is a barrier. A barrier against narrative capture. A barrier against symbolic manipulation. A barrier against ideological appropriation. Code is boring because it is serious. It is serious because it is constrained. It is constrained because it is not based on trust. The media, by their very nature, struggle to deal with anything that doesn't conform to their formats. This isn't a moral accusation. It's a structural limitation. Bitcoin, in its essential dimension, escapes these formats. It will therefore continue to be commented on in ways that deviate from its true nature.

And it will continue to function, indifferent to the narratives projected onto it, the panics it triggers, the enthusiasms it arouses. Code doesn't respond to debates. It doesn't intervene in controversies. It doesn't explain. It applies. Perhaps this, at its core, is the source of the persistent misunderstanding. We look for meaning where there are only rules. We look for a story where there is only a mechanism. We look for intentions where there is only execution. Bitcoin isn't misunderstood because it's complex. It's misunderstood because it's simple, austere, and profoundly boring. And that's precisely why it endures.