This article is a submission for the SayMore + Purple Essay Contest on Farcaster. If you use Farcaster, find me at @alditrus, https://warpcast.com/alditrus.

This is a mushroom.

More precisely, a mushroom is a general descriptor for a species of fleshy organisms known as fungi. The mushroom you see above is just a fruit body of a fungus, a small appendage of a much larger organism with complex underlying structures that grow deep underneath the soil. Most people take for granted just how immense fungi really are, only seeing the small toadstools that peep out above the ground. In reality, fungi are comprised of vast decentralized networks that can span entire forests, using enzymes and chemical processes to communicate like a massive brain right under our feet. Not only do they break down and recycle dead matter, but they also act as an ecosystem's internet, connecting different species and organisms with one another in a way that we humans usually don’t fully appreciate or understand.

But first, let's start with the basics.

Fungi are one of the four main eukaryotic kingdoms. Originally classified as plants, they were eventually re-categorized into their own kingdom due to their unique characteristics and morphology. Fungi are a vastly diverse species, comprising 9 main clades, each containing a range of different groups within the fungi family tree. For brevity's sake, I won't go into detail about these lineages but suffice it to say that the fungi kingdom embraces a wide range of organisms, from lichen to bread mold to the familiar toadstool. Some fungi are microscopic, while others come in a brilliant spectrum of colors and sizes. Some work symbiotically with other species, while others are parasites that destroy and feed off their hosts.

Despite their hyper diversity, most fungi share the same structure and characteristics. Unlike other organisms, fungi contain chitin within their cell walls. Almost all fungi exhibit a filamentous structure, consisting of thread-like material known as hyphae. These hyphae weave together to form a mesh called mycelium. Fungi primarily use spores to reproduce and create new fruiting bodies on the surface. However, the mycelium is the real powerhouse of the fungi, its "true form," so to speak.1

It is the mycelium, a network of branching tubular structures, that makes fungi especially resilient. When you wake up one morning after a rainy night and see mushrooms sprouting across your lawn, as I have on occasion, you are only seeing a small part of the fungus, its "loins" as it were. Even if you pluck all of these mushrooms and throw them away, you won't destroy the fungus itself. The true fungus lies deep beneath your feet, a vast array of hyphae waiting to create new fruiting bodies when the time is right. Even if you painstakingly uproot a large part of your yard to rid yourself of this mycelium network, the remaining part of the network will simply grow back.

This is the true strength of a fungus and what makes it remarkably hardy: it's decentralized. There is no single central point of failure that could destroy it unless the entire network is attacked at once. As the network grows larger, however, the more difficult it is to eliminate, and the stronger it becomes…

Deep within the Blue Mountains of Oregon, underneath the junipers and pines of Malheur National Forest, there is a behemoth lurking. This leviathan takes the form of a rather benign-looking mushroom with a mustard-yellow hue, colloquially known as the Honey Mushroom. It not only grows from the forest soil but also clings to the trunks of trees, sometimes gushing out from underneath the bark. This mushroom, if cooked properly, is considered a local delicacy. It is also one of the largest organisms ever known to man, even dwarfing the great blue whale. Known to scientists as Armillaria ostoyae, this massive mycelium network spans 2,385 acres, earning its nickname the "Humongous Fungus.”2

This massive fungus is not only the largest living thing on the planet, but it is also a massive pest. As previously mentioned, fungi can form symbiotic relationships with other organisms or act as parasites. This is because fungi are heterotrophic and unable to produce their own food. While most fungi derive their nutrients from dead matter, recycling its components for other plants to use, the Armillaria goes a step further. It uses a unique mycelial cord, a thick black root-like growth called a rhizomorph, to invade trees from underground. The rhizomorph parasitizes the tree by killing its root system and creating a mycelium mat underneath the bark, leading to the tree's slow and tedious death. Once the tree has perished, the fungus continues to feed on its rotted remains.

Not only is Armillaria deadly, but it is also incredibly durable. Its rhizomorphs are extremely strong, capable of penetrating a tree's thick trunk and outer bark. They can resist the strongest of fungicides and can even withstand acid. Even if no trees are available to infest, the fungus can remain dormant underground for years. It's possible that if some apocalyptic event, such as a nuclear holocaust or climate change, utterly destroys our planet and drives humanity into oblivion, the Humongous Fungus will still survive. It is virtually invincible.3

This may paint a rather insidious image of fungi as a cruel harbinger of death, but not all fungi are as hostile. In fact, most fungal networks help a forest endure and thrive. These more holistic types of fungi can form mycorrhizal networks, or "wood wide webs," that work symbiotically with plants to maintain the ecosystem's health and integrity. In these networks, mycelium and rhizomorphs communicate with plant roots by passing different substances from one end of the forest to the other, similar to a pipeline of public goods. These substances can include nutrients, electrical currents, water, nitrogen, or even carbon. Plants can interact with the fungi directly, exchanging products of photosynthesis for nourishment, or they can use fungi to communicate with a wide variety of other plants. This way, trees with plentiful resources or needed nutrients can give to those in need. It also enables trees to warn their peers from one end of the forest to the other about impending threats, such as an aphid infestation. Without Fungi and these cooperative networks, forests and other ecosystems may never have existed.4

Fungi are not the only organisms that can communicate in a decentralized manner. Slime molds, another type of organism, not only demonstrate efficient communication but can also mimic almost human-like intelligence. While they’re not fungi, slime molds share many similarities with fungi. They are capable of breaking down and feeding on dead material and come in a diverse palette of different colors. What sets them apart from fungi, besides their differing morphology, is their ability to make intelligent decisions and even solve complex puzzles, all without the help of a centralized nervous system.

While mushrooms consist of a vast network of filamentous fibers with chitin-reinforced cells, slime molds are actually single-celled microorganisms that can join together to become multicellular organisms. This makes the slime mold not only more flexible than a fungus but also more modular, enabling it to perform tasks fungi generally are incapable of.5 For example, when placed inside a maze with a food reward at the end, the slime will attempt all possible routes until it reaches the prize. It is even able to remember the maze solution and replicate it at will. Even if the mold is separated into multiple pieces, it can relocate its separated parts to become whole again. It can also perform complex tasks beyond just mazes. One researcher, Toshiyuki Nakagaki, and his team trained a slime mold using oats to replicate the Tokyo rail system! 67

Organisms such as fungi and slime molds are complex and agile lifeforms that can sustain entire ecosystems and navigate complex tasks. But why on Earth did I write an entire essay about fungus for a writing contest about web3? I imagine most people interested in blockchain technology and its applications have already made the connection.

When Satoshi Nakamoto invented Bitcoin, the first blockchain network, in 2008, they likely envisioned a world where wealth and the financial system weren't under the complete control of a corrupt central authority that protected bad actors while thousands of innocent people were forced onto the streets. They probably envisioned a global economy without borders or barriers of entry, limited only by the imagination. Bitcoin, a standard of value belonging to no one, is the result of that vision. Since then, the vision of a decentralized future has only grown and evolved. Vitalik Buterin and his colleagues took it a step further when they created Ethereum, a global operating system owned and managed by everyone that could do things Bitcoin wasn't originally built for.

The world has also evolved since the Financial Crisis of ‘08, but arguably for the worse. I don't need to list the ills and calamities that have plagued our society over the past decade; to put it frankly, we're not in a good place. We need a more efficient way to communicate with each other to solve the challenges of our day, one that hasn't and cannot be hijacked by a small group of extremely powerful oligarchs. While blockchain has provided a potential solution, we still have a long way to go. Networks like Ethereum haven't yet reached the scaling power required to onboard a civilization of 7 billion people. These networks and their applications are also clunky and fall short when it comes to collective communication. For example, despite the many promises of Decentralized Autonomous Organizations, most DAOs end up falling apart because their members are unable to reach a workable consensus. And I don’t think I have to remind my audience of what happened with FTX and the broader crypto ecosystem this past year.

However, I wouldn't say that this is the beginning. I would say this is the beginning before the beginning. We haven't even scratched the surface of what blockchain could potentially be capable of. Writing this essay took me down a rabbit hole I thought I would never jump down, and it's changed my view of how we can harness this technology to communicate and coordinate in ways never before possible. If a mushroom and a slime can coordinate in a decentralized manner, why can't we? The practice of biomimicry is used in many disciplines and web3 should be no exception. I can imagine, for example, a blockchain network that is structured to imitate the function of a mycorrhizal network, using digital assets and other public goods to communicate with different institutions and create a beneficial equilibrium between them. What if we could structure a DAO or a social network to act as a slime mold would? What would be the implications of such a collective intelligence? Just like heterotrophs, these dapps and networks could also break down dysfunctional or ossified institutions, recycling their resources and giving them to other institutions that need them most. As we continue to build and experiment, I believe we can learn a thing or two from Mother Nature about creating a world that is not only more fair and equitable but also resilient enough to stand the test of time.

1

https://byjus.com/biology/kingdom-fungi/

2

https://www.oregonencyclopedia.org/articles/humongous-fungus-armillaria-ostoyae/

3

https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2022/08/humongous-fungus-climate-change-biggest-organism/671109/

4

https://www.sciencefocus.com/nature/mycorrhizal-networks-wood-wide-web/

5

https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/earth-and-planetary-sciences/slime-mould

6

https://www.discovermagazine.com/planet-earth/what-is-slime-mold

7

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/article/slime-mold-smart-brainless-cognition/