McCormack sensed an opportunity to push Alias beyond the technical realm. "Alright, Alias, you’ve made it clear that you don’t see decentralization as an ideology, but rather as one tool among many. But let’s talk politics. Because let’s be honest, blockchains—and especially Bitcoin—are seen by many as fundamentally political. What do you make of Bitcoin maximalism?"

Alias sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Bitcoin maximalism is an understandable reaction to a financial system people don’t trust. But it’s also… naive. It’s built on the idea that one system—one tool—can be universally applicable to all human interactions. That’s a level of absolutism that, historically, has rarely aged well."

McCormack smirked. "You’re saying Bitcoin maxis are utopians?"

"Not exactly. They see the flaws of the existing system, and they believe they have a superior alternative. In some ways, they do. But they assume that a purely monetary revolution will solve deeper human problems. Money is just one part of how we organize society. It’s important, but it’s not everything."

McCormack nodded. "Fair enough. What about libertarianism?"

Alias picked his words carefully. "I respect the drive for personal sovereignty. But libertarianism often underestimates the extent to which humans need coordination, need rules, need constraints. Societies aren’t just collections of individuals maximizing personal freedom—they’re interconnected systems that require trade-offs. The question isn’t whether we have laws and to what extent they should apply, it’s how we enforce them and who holds that power."

"And anarchism?"

Alias chuckled. "Anarchism is like Bitcoin maximalism in a different wrapper—it assumes an idealized version of human nature. Most anarchists believe we can self-regulate effectively without institutions of power. But history suggests that when power isn’t structured, it doesn’t disappear—it just becomes informal, unaccountable, and often violent. The strong still dominate the weak; they just don’t have official titles when they do it."

McCormack raised an eyebrow. "So you’re a democrat?"

Alias gave a small smile. "Democracy is the best failure we’ve come up with. It doesn’t work well, but every alternative seems to work worse. It’s a balancing act between structure and participation, between control and autonomy. And blockchains could, in theory, improve democratic processes—by making votes irrevocable, by reducing fraud, by ensuring transparency. But democracy will always be messy because humans are messy."

McCormack sat back, thoughtful. "Alright. So where do blockchains fit into all of this?"

Alias folded his hands. "Humanity is involved in a massive experiment. We’re figuring out how to interact with a cosmos that is not necessarily good to us. We’ve built religions, governments, economic systems—all different ways to organize our existence and make sense of things. Blockchain is a major breakthrough in that process. But it’s not a magic wand. It won’t fix human nature. It won’t end corruption. It won’t bring utopia."

McCormack let out a low whistle. "That’s not the take I hear at most crypto conferences."

"Of course not," Alias said dryly. "People want messianic solutions. They want to believe they’ve found the answer. But technology doesn’t solve human nature—it just gives us new ways to express it."

"So you’re saying the crypto revolution won’t fix everything?"

Alias chuckled. "The only thing blockchains fix is double-spending, and don't get me wrong, this is a huge step - much larger than walking on the moon -, but everything else is still up to us."