For cryptocurrency trading platform FTX, the platform has been on the air throughout the NBA playoffs.

It features superstar Steph Curry going through a goofy version of his era - eating cereal, making pasta, carving ice sculptures - while narrator Shaquille O' Neal) insists that Curry knows everything there is to know about encryption. An irritated Curry repeatedly denies it.

"I'm not an expert, and I don't need to be," Curry finally says to the camera, holding up the FTX app on his phone. "

With FTX, I have everything I need to safely buy, sell and trade cryptocurrencies.

Give Curry and FTX some honesty.

This new ad says what should be obvious to anyone paying attention: the countless celebrities who have joined the crypto (and NFT) trend almost certainly know little about the products they sell.

This goes beyond the inherently transactional nature of corporate sponsorship. Everyone knows that athletes advertise because they are paid to do so, not because they actually use the product.

On the other hand, if one knows that Curry - or Tom Brady, Paris Hilton, Charli D'Amelio, Snoop Dogg or Matt Damon) - could explain what someone is buying when they invest in cryptocurrencies, it would be shocking.

The honesty of the Curry ad is offset by its cynicism, which sets a new standard for an industry with a lot of idle.

The crypto-ad blitz began late last year, rising in tandem with the price of digital assets. The Super Bowl infamously showcased several of the industry's big-budget ads.

The most notable was an FTX ad featuring comedian Larry David, who saw cryptocurrency as a passing fad with a "don't be like Larry" kicker.

As some observers have pointed out, these ads conspicuously ignore any substantive merits of crypto. Instead, they try to instill a sense of FOMO, or fear of missing out, by suggesting that viewers who don't buy now will regret it as much as Larry does.

These FOMO ads at least leave open the possibility that consumers will learn about cryptocurrencies before investing. The curry ads eschew this pretense.

To be fair, there is a difference between an expert who doesn't do something and one who knows nothing about it. But the ad is clearly aimed at people who are hesitant to invest in cryptocurrencies because they don't know anything about them.

The message to them is: don't worry, Stephen doesn't worry either! And perhaps, by extension, neither does anyone else! If everyone else is operating in ignorance, maybe you're not at any great disadvantage. So go ahead, trade away. fTX did not respond to a request for comment.

Warren Buffett, the legendary investor, is said to have advised, "Never invest in a business you can't understand.

Traditional investing is a bet that the business you invest in will become more valuable over time. As the fundamentals improve, the business grows and becomes more profitable, more people will be willing to pay more for a portion of it, thus increasing the value of your stock.

If you can't understand how a business makes money, you have no reason to make a reasonable judgment about the performance of its stock. However, as the Curry ad shows, there are ways to avoid the intermediate steps in the crypto market.

Forget the fundamentals: For the average investor, the decision to buy a certain cryptocurrency seems to be a pure bet that others will want to spend more money on it in the future. This is the spirit behind the modal stock phenomenon, which is philosophically closer to the crypto world than to traditional stock market investing.

For investments, there is a name whose value depends entirely on finding future buyers willing to pay more than you put in: Ponzi schemes.

Critics have used this label to label crypto for almost as long as crypto has existed.

More recently, the criticism has been bolstered by an unlikely source. the founder and CEO of FTX, Sam Bankman-Fried, appeared on the Odd Lots podcast last week.

During the discussion, Bloomberg Finance columnist Matt Levine asked Bankman-Fried to explain "income farming," a form of crypto investment in which people can buy "liquidity pools" that can pay ultra-high interest rates, but can also be rushed south.

As an example, Bankman-Fried asks Levine to imagine "a company that makes boxes" that, despite some noble marketing rhetoric, does nothing.

Bankman-Fried went on to say that the company could issue tokens that people would buy - although "so far, we haven't given a compelling reason why the box would make any money. Finally, the company could promise to distribute more tokens to anyone who puts money in the box, that is, anyone who lends them money. bankman-Fried says that in this case, the buzz around the token could give it a market cap of $20 million. (Although, as Levin points out, it should be zero. Then, as more and more people see that the box is paying out valuable tokens, they'll want to put more money into it, thus increasing the value even further.

"It's like, it's a valuable box, as evidenced by all the money people apparently decided should be in the box," Bankman-Fried said. "Who are we to say they're wrong?"

"I consider myself a rather cynical person," Levin replied. "It's a lot more cynical than the way I would describe agriculture. You just think, 'Well, I'm in a Ponzi scheme, and that's fine.

Surprisingly, Bankman-Fried didn't try very hard to fight back. "I think it's a pretty reasonable response," he says. "I think there's a frustrating validity to it.

What's more frustrating is what happened next in the crypto market: nothing.

You might think that the head of a major crypto trading platform speaking out loud about the quiet part, admitting on a popular podcast that he is at least partially in the Ponzi business, might lead to some sort of crisis or loss of confidence in the industry.

That's not the case. It shows that people don't really care if they put their money in a box that does nothing, as long as they think they'll be one of the groups shelling out more money later.

In this sense, it may be wrong to compare the crypto market to the stock market. Gambling is probably a more appropriate comparison. A slot machine doesn't do anything either; it's effectively a box that takes money in and spits it out.

As with gambling, you can avoid risk by not putting your money in the bottom pool. But actually opting out of the crypto economy is becoming increasingly difficult.

Even if you don't invest yourself, you may be living in a crypto world. Retirement funds don't bet on the Super Bowl, but two public pension funds in Fairfax County, Virginia, invested in crypto funds last fall and are now reportedly considering getting into income agriculture.

Wall Street banks have long been skeptical of cryptocurrencies, reluctantly entangling themselves more deeply in them, such is their fear of missing out on a big payday.

It's not just the economy that is increasingly wrapped up in the fate of crypto.

The industry's rise has spawned a generation of overnight millionaires and billionaires, some of whom have political ambitions.

As The Washington Post recently reported, crypto investors and executives are pouring millions of dollars into the upcoming midterm elections, trying to help elect candidates who support the industry's preferred regulations.

Then there's Bankman-Fried, who is worth an estimated $24 billion at age 30 and has been increasing his DC footprint. His political donations seem to have more to do with pandemic readiness than crypto-friendly regulation; a practitioner of effective altruism, Bankman-Fried has vowed to give almost all of his money to causes that will have the greatest impact.

So that's one thing crypto boxes do: transfer money from someone else's bank account to his so he can direct it as he sees fit.

He seems to be betting that he can do more good with other people's money than those people can. The rest of us will have to hope that he and the other crypto mobsters are right. After all, we are not experts.

For cryptocurrency trading platform FTX, the platform has been on the air throughout the NBA playoffs.

It features superstar Steph Curry going through a goofy version of his era - eating cereal, making pasta, carving ice sculptures - while narrator Shaquille O' Neal) insists that Curry knows everything there is to know about encryption. An irritated Curry repeatedly denies it.

"I'm not an expert, and I don't need to be," Curry finally says to the camera, holding up the FTX app on his phone. "

With FTX, I have everything I need to safely buy, sell and trade cryptocurrencies.

Give Curry and FTX some honesty.

This new ad says what should be obvious to anyone paying attention: the countless celebrities who have joined the crypto (and NFT) trend almost certainly know little about the products they sell.

This goes beyond the inherently transactional nature of corporate sponsorship. Everyone knows that athletes advertise because they are paid to do so, not because they actually use the product.

On the other hand, if one knows that Curry - or Tom Brady, Paris Hilton, Charli D'Amelio, Snoop Dogg or Matt Damon) - could explain what someone is buying when they invest in cryptocurrencies, it would be shocking.

The honesty of the Curry ad is offset by its cynicism, which sets a new standard for an industry with a lot of idle.

The crypto-ad blitz began late last year, rising in tandem with the price of digital assets. The Super Bowl infamously showcased several of the industry's big-budget ads.

The most notable was an FTX ad featuring comedian Larry David, who saw cryptocurrency as a passing fad with a "don't be like Larry" kicker.

As some observers have pointed out, these ads conspicuously ignore any substantive merits of crypto. Instead, they try to instill a sense of FOMO, or fear of missing out, by suggesting that viewers who don't buy now will regret it as much as Larry does.

These FOMO ads at least leave open the possibility that consumers will learn about cryptocurrencies before investing. The curry ads eschew this pretense.

To be fair, there is a difference between an expert who doesn't do something and one who knows nothing about it. But the ad is clearly aimed at people who are hesitant to invest in cryptocurrencies because they don't know anything about them.

The message to them is: don't worry, Stephen doesn't worry either! And perhaps, by extension, neither does anyone else! If everyone else is operating in ignorance, maybe you're not at any great disadvantage. So go ahead, trade away. fTX did not respond to a request for comment.

Warren Buffett, the legendary investor, is said to have advised, "Never invest in a business you can't understand.

Traditional investing is a bet that the business you invest in will become more valuable over time. As the fundamentals improve, the business grows and becomes more profitable, more people will be willing to pay more for a portion of it, thus increasing the value of your stock.

If you can't understand how a business makes money, you have no reason to make a reasonable judgment about the performance of its stock. However, as the Curry ad shows, there are ways to avoid the intermediate steps in the crypto market.

Forget the fundamentals: For the average investor, the decision to buy a certain cryptocurrency seems to be a pure bet that others will want to spend more money on it in the future. This is the spirit behind the modal stock phenomenon, which is philosophically closer to the crypto world than to traditional stock market investing.

For investments, there is a name whose value depends entirely on finding future buyers willing to pay more than you put in: Ponzi schemes.

Critics have used this label to label crypto for almost as long as crypto has existed.

More recently, the criticism has been bolstered by an unlikely source. the founder and CEO of FTX, Sam Bankman-Fried, appeared on the Odd Lots podcast last week.

During the discussion, Bloomberg Finance columnist Matt Levine asked Bankman-Fried to explain "income farming," a form of crypto investment in which people can buy "liquidity pools" that can pay ultra-high interest rates, but can also be rushed south.

As an example, Bankman-Fried asks Levine to imagine "a company that makes boxes" that, despite some noble marketing rhetoric, does nothing.

Bankman-Fried went on to say that the company could issue tokens that people would buy - although "so far, we haven't given a compelling reason why the box would make any money. Finally, the company could promise to distribute more tokens to anyone who puts money in the box, that is, anyone who lends them money. bankman-Fried says that in this case, the buzz around the token could give it a market cap of $20 million. (Although, as Levin points out, it should be zero. Then, as more and more people see that the box is paying out valuable tokens, they'll want to put more money into it, thus increasing the value even further.

"It's like, it's a valuable box, as evidenced by all the money people apparently decided should be in the box," Bankman-Fried said. "Who are we to say they're wrong?"

"I consider myself a rather cynical person," Levin replied. "It's a lot more cynical than the way I would describe agriculture. You just think, 'Well, I'm in a Ponzi scheme, and that's fine.

Surprisingly, Bankman-Fried didn't try very hard to fight back. "I think it's a pretty reasonable response," he says. "I think there's a frustrating validity to it.

What's more frustrating is what happened next in the crypto market: nothing.

You might think that the head of a major crypto trading platform speaking out loud about the quiet part, admitting on a popular podcast that he is at least partially in the Ponzi business, might lead to some sort of crisis or loss of confidence in the industry.

That's not the case. It shows that people don't really care if they put their money in a box that does nothing, as long as they think they'll be one of the groups shelling out more money later.

In this sense, it may be wrong to compare the crypto market to the stock market. Gambling is probably a more appropriate comparison. A slot machine doesn't do anything either; it's effectively a box that takes money in and spits it out.

As with gambling, you can avoid risk by not putting your money in the bottom pool. But actually opting out of the crypto economy is becoming increasingly difficult.

Even if you don't invest yourself, you may be living in a crypto world. Retirement funds don't bet on the Super Bowl, but two public pension funds in Fairfax County, Virginia, invested in crypto funds last fall and are now reportedly considering getting into income agriculture.

Wall Street banks have long been skeptical of cryptocurrencies, reluctantly entangling themselves more deeply in them, such is their fear of missing out on a big payday.

It's not just the economy that is increasingly wrapped up in the fate of crypto.

The industry's rise has spawned a generation of overnight millionaires and billionaires, some of whom have political ambitions.

As The Washington Post recently reported, crypto investors and executives are pouring millions of dollars into the upcoming midterm elections, trying to help elect candidates who support the industry's preferred regulations.

Then there's Bankman-Fried, who is worth an estimated $24 billion at age 30 and has been increasing his DC footprint. His political donations seem to have more to do with pandemic readiness than crypto-friendly regulation; a practitioner of effective altruism, Bankman-Fried has vowed to give almost all of his money to causes that will have the greatest impact.

So that's one thing crypto boxes do: transfer money from someone else's bank account to his so he can direct it as he sees fit.

He seems to be betting that he can do more good with other people's money than those people can. The rest of us will have to hope that he and the other crypto mobsters are right. After all, we are not experts.