The author reflects on the early days of crypto airdrops, such as those from Uniswap, 1inch, and dYdX, which delivered surprising high returns. In contrast, today’s airdrop ecosystem has deteriorated. Users now spend months or even years interacting with protocols, only to face low rewards, harsh vesting terms (e.g., 48-month linear unlocks), and short claim windows, resulting in a severe mismatch between effort and reward.

Airdrops have evolved from "loyal user subsidies" to a data game between projects and users: users chase rewards功利化ly, while projects pursue VC-friendly metrics. Neither side is satisfied. The article suggests returning to Uniswap-style surprise airdrops, adopting Sui’s presale discount model, or canceling airdrops altogether to focus on real product demand and sustainable revenue, rebuilding community trust and long-term value.

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Summary

Author: OxTochi

Compiler: Chopper, Foresight News

I still remember my first crypto airdrop as if it were yesterday. It was 2020, and I was busy completing bounty tasks on Bitcointalk. One morning, I was woken by a WhatsApp notification from a friend: "Have you used Uniswap?" I said yes, and he replied, "Then you should have 400 UNI tokens to claim, worth over $1,000 now." I immediately found the claim link on Uniswap’s Twitter and sold them right away.

It was that simple—"free money" falling from the sky. No forms to fill, no Discord level grinding, no "contributions required" rules. Looking back, that moment defined what airdrops should be: a surprise "subsidy" for users who genuinely like and use the product, not the worthless garbage activities we see today.

The Golden Age of Airdrops

Later, I claimed the 1inch airdrop—any wallet eligible for UNI could claim it. But what truly changed my perception of "airdrop gameplay" was dYdX’s airdrop. To participate, I had to bridge ETH to the dYdX protocol. At the time, most Layer2s were still just whitepapers, and bridging fees were terrifyingly high. I made a few trades to generate some volume, not much, and then withdrew my assets. Just one day of work earned me a five-figure (USD) airdrop—unthinkable now.

At its peak, the total value of airdrops I claimed exceeded $20,000. Honestly, I sold half along the way—after all, it was "free money," and cashing out was the norm. dYdX’s airdrop gave me my first decent capital, which I directly invested into DeFi. During the "DeFi Summer," I was yield farming on Juldswap, earning about $250 daily. I really miss those days.

The Decline of Airdrops

Of course, such good times couldn’t last. After dYdX, I participated in airdrops for Scroll, Arbitrum, Optimism, and zkSync, with zkSync marking the start of my "terrible airdrop experience."

But I’ll never forget Scroll’s airdrop. Expectations were sky-high, even after its co-founder Sandy famously tweeted to "lower expectations." People kept raising their hopes until disappointment finally arrived. Scroll’s airdrop allocations were laughably low. The crypto community’s mood instantly plummeted from anticipation to despair. Honestly, this airdrop left me traumatized—I swore off Layer2 airdrop "farming" right then.

If it were just Scroll, maybe I could have accepted it. But what truly hurt was realizing: such "low-quality airdrops" would become the norm.

The Current Airdrop Chaos

Fast forward to today, and the airdrop scene is utterly dismal. The former "surprise airdrops" have become an industrialized business of "Sybil farming."

You spend months or even years interacting with protocols: bridging, adding liquidity, burning gas fees, and building so-called "user loyalty," only to rely on luck for whether you even get an airdrop—and if you do, the allocation is pitifully small. Even worse, we now see "48-hour claim windows" (Sunrise was likely the first to do this).

When you finally get to claim, you find the reward doesn’t match your time and cost investment, often with ridiculously harsh vesting schedules. For example, 0G Labs’ airdrop vests over 48 months, quarterly—48 months, a full four years!

This kind of nonsense is so common now that my first reaction to "airdrop alpha" tweets is: "Heh, another mosquito-leg airdrop."

Project vs. User Games

The truth is: in recent years, user mentality has become utterly功利化. Nobody uses a product now except for rewards. No one spends hours clicking around and contributing to a community just for the "ecosystem culture."

What about projects? They want loyal users, but they want "pretty data" for VCs even more—high user counts, large communities. These metrics help them raise valuations for funding rounds. So, users and projects end up in a game of "farming data" vs. "preventing farming."

The result? Neither side is happy. Users feel cheated, and projects face user retention issues.

What Should Airdrops Be?

If I were to redesign airdrops, I might return to the Uniswap model: no hype, no leaderboards, just a surprise subsidy for loyal users one day. This alone would reduce industrialized farming and lower unrealistic user expectations.

Alternatively, follow Sui’s "presale airdrop" model—set a reasonable Fully Diluted Valuation (FDV) and let early contributors and users buy tokens at a discount. The closest examples now are Cysic and Boundless, which use a "tier system" to reward users with presale discounts based on their ecosystem contributions.

Or, just cancel airdrops altogether and focus on building truly usable products: achieve real product-market fit, establish solid revenue models, instead of copying and pasting the same thing 200 times. Honestly, this would better serve the crypto community’s long-term interests.

Conclusion

The current state of airdrops is utterly terrible. It neither rewards users who spend time "grinding" nor helps projects build genuine communities.

In the end, everyone feels exploited. Perhaps canceling airdrops and instead building products that let everyone earn money is the better path?

The author reflects on the early days of crypto airdrops, such as those from Uniswap, 1inch, and dYdX, which delivered surprising high returns. In contrast, today’s airdrop ecosystem has deteriorated. Users now spend months or even years interacting with protocols, only to face low rewards, harsh vesting terms (e.g., 48-month linear unlocks), and short claim windows, resulting in a severe mismatch between effort and reward.

Airdrops have evolved from "loyal user subsidies" to a data game between projects and users: users chase rewards功利化ly, while projects pursue VC-friendly metrics. Neither side is satisfied. The article suggests returning to Uniswap-style surprise airdrops, adopting Sui’s presale discount model, or canceling airdrops altogether to focus on real product demand and sustainable revenue, rebuilding community trust and long-term value.

---

Summary

Author: OxTochi

Compiler: Chopper, Foresight News

I still remember my first crypto airdrop as if it were yesterday. It was 2020, and I was busy completing bounty tasks on Bitcointalk. One morning, I was woken by a WhatsApp notification from a friend: "Have you used Uniswap?" I said yes, and he replied, "Then you should have 400 UNI tokens to claim, worth over $1,000 now." I immediately found the claim link on Uniswap’s Twitter and sold them right away.

It was that simple—"free money" falling from the sky. No forms to fill, no Discord level grinding, no "contributions required" rules. Looking back, that moment defined what airdrops should be: a surprise "subsidy" for users who genuinely like and use the product, not the worthless garbage activities we see today.

The Golden Age of Airdrops

Later, I claimed the 1inch airdrop—any wallet eligible for UNI could claim it. But what truly changed my perception of "airdrop gameplay" was dYdX’s airdrop. To participate, I had to bridge ETH to the dYdX protocol. At the time, most Layer2s were still just whitepapers, and bridging fees were terrifyingly high. I made a few trades to generate some volume, not much, and then withdrew my assets. Just one day of work earned me a five-figure (USD) airdrop—unthinkable now.

At its peak, the total value of airdrops I claimed exceeded $20,000. Honestly, I sold half along the way—after all, it was "free money," and cashing out was the norm. dYdX’s airdrop gave me my first decent capital, which I directly invested into DeFi. During the "DeFi Summer," I was yield farming on Juldswap, earning about $250 daily. I really miss those days.

The Decline of Airdrops

Of course, such good times couldn’t last. After dYdX, I participated in airdrops for Scroll, Arbitrum, Optimism, and zkSync, with zkSync marking the start of my "terrible airdrop experience."

But I’ll never forget Scroll’s airdrop. Expectations were sky-high, even after its co-founder Sandy famously tweeted to "lower expectations." People kept raising their hopes until disappointment finally arrived. Scroll’s airdrop allocations were laughably low. The crypto community’s mood instantly plummeted from anticipation to despair. Honestly, this airdrop left me traumatized—I swore off Layer2 airdrop "farming" right then.

If it were just Scroll, maybe I could have accepted it. But what truly hurt was realizing: such "low-quality airdrops" would become the norm.

The Current Airdrop Chaos

Fast forward to today, and the airdrop scene is utterly dismal. The former "surprise airdrops" have become an industrialized business of "Sybil farming."

You spend months or even years interacting with protocols: bridging, adding liquidity, burning gas fees, and building so-called "user loyalty," only to rely on luck for whether you even get an airdrop—and if you do, the allocation is pitifully small. Even worse, we now see "48-hour claim windows" (Sunrise was likely the first to do this).

When you finally get to claim, you find the reward doesn’t match your time and cost investment, often with ridiculously harsh vesting schedules. For example, 0G Labs’ airdrop vests over 48 months, quarterly—48 months, a full four years!

This kind of nonsense is so common now that my first reaction to "airdrop alpha" tweets is: "Heh, another mosquito-leg airdrop."

Project vs. User Games

The truth is: in recent years, user mentality has become utterly功利化. Nobody uses a product now except for rewards. No one spends hours clicking around and contributing to a community just for the "ecosystem culture."

What about projects? They want loyal users, but they want "pretty data" for VCs even more—high user counts, large communities. These metrics help them raise valuations for funding rounds. So, users and projects end up in a game of "farming data" vs. "preventing farming."

The result? Neither side is happy. Users feel cheated, and projects face user retention issues.

What Should Airdrops Be?

If I were to redesign airdrops, I might return to the Uniswap model: no hype, no leaderboards, just a surprise subsidy for loyal users one day. This alone would reduce industrialized farming and lower unrealistic user expectations.

Alternatively, follow Sui’s "presale airdrop" model—set a reasonable Fully Diluted Valuation (FDV) and let early contributors and users buy tokens at a discount. The closest examples now are Cysic and Boundless, which use a "tier system" to reward users with presale discounts based on their ecosystem contributions.

Or, just cancel airdrops altogether and focus on building truly usable products: achieve real product-market fit, establish solid revenue models, instead of copying and pasting the same thing 200 times. Honestly, this would better serve the crypto community’s long-term interests.

Conclusion

The current state of airdrops is utterly terrible. It neither rewards users who spend time "grinding" nor helps projects build genuine communities.

In the end, everyone feels exploited. Perhaps canceling airdrops and instead building products that let everyone earn money is the better path?