Speaking of which, I’ve recently been fixated on @Plasma , and a rather interesting thought keeps popping into my mind: the scariest thing about this team might not be what they have done, but rather what they haven’t done.
The crypto circle is like a bustling carnival that never ends. Today it's an AI parade, tomorrow it's a metaverse fireworks show, and the day after it's the shiny DePIN showcase. Everyone is afraid of missing out, scrambling to jump on every trend. But what about those folks at Plasma? They’re like a group of craftsmen in the noisiest corner of the market, with their backs to all the commotion, focused intently on digging a deep well. With their ears stuffed with cotton, their eyes fixed only on the rock layers beneath the drill—those layers are called 'stablecoin payments'. #Plasma
This kind of 'selective blindness' is almost an anomaly in the industry, even a bit against human nature. While everyone else is agitated for the next hundredfold narrative, they can suppress all impulses and bet all their chips, time, and reputation on the 'small matter' of making USDT transfers as easy as sending a text message. You say they are rigid? I think this is a kind of nearly cold clarity. They seem to have gotten the script in advance, knowing that the first act of this long drama only requires, and should only focus on, performing this one core scene.
This precisely creates a kind of anxiety that suffocates peers the most. Your team is smart, agile, chasing every windfall, diversifying investments across ten tracks. Their team is silent, stubborn, putting all their strength on the same needle tip. When the tide temporarily recedes and the window period of rotating hotspots arrives, you will be horrified to find: those ten scattered footholds of yours may just be shallow footprints; while their deep well has already gushed forth with a continuous stream of clear spring, beginning to nourish the first batch of true residents.
This is a difference in dimension. You are engaged in a 'breadth competition', while they are engaged in a 'depth competition'. History has told us countless times that in the competition for infrastructure, an inch of depth often has more power than a mile of breadth. Because depth creates natural barriers, later entrants need to make exponential efforts to penetrate the already solidified rock layers.
I praise them because this strategic 'bluntness' has become the rarest sharp tool in today's overly clever world. It signifies an absolute faith in long-term value and a complete shielding from short-term noise. This sounds simple, but is as difficult as climbing to the sky, because it goes against human nature, against short-term incentives, and against industry consensus.
So, when the entire industry is attracted like a swarm to the next 'narrative flower', Plasma remains firmly nailed to the foundation it has chosen. This does not mean they cannot see other flowers, but rather they firmly believe that what they are nurturing under their feet is the root system that will support the entire garden in the future.
The sense of oppression it brings is silent yet immense. It makes you unable to avoid self-doubt: what we are chasing everywhere, is it really the direction of the future, or just a mirage conjured by collective imagination? Is the rapid iteration we take pride in just a transfer of anxiety from not daring to invest deeply?
The existence of Plasma is like a mirror, reflecting the widespread restlessness in the industry. With extreme focus, it silently questions all competitors: when the wind stops, what do you rely on to stand?
What they are betting on is not the next quarter's hotspot, but the underlying form of digital dollar flow over the next decade. This kind of bet is too heavy, heavy enough to make all light cleverness seem a bit cheap. This is the deepest source of anxiety – you suddenly realize that in this marathon, someone has been running on a track you have never seriously examined from the very beginning. And the end of that road may be the true podium.
