Airdrops were once seen as a harbinger of cryptocurrency based abundance and are now seen often as an incentive to invite peoples’ worst tendencies when done poorly. But seldom are the effects of airdrops on actual communities written about. In part is the difficulty of the conversation needed when navigating a myriad of money traumas that exist in a group. It may be “free” money but perhaps there is still a price to be paid.
And so gather 'round, let me tell you a story of seven friends whose dinner party became an unlikely altar for cosmic abundance gone wrong to help you think through the introduction of an injection of capital in a community.
You can listen to an audio version of this parable on The Blockchain Socialist Patreon.
Once upon a time, a group of seven friends gathered for a dinner party as they often do when their busy schedules align. They were a diverse bunch—Eliza the teacher, Priya the social worker, James the business owner, Zoe the artist, Leo the engineer, Dana the retail worker, and Marcus the doctor, who also hosted the dinner this time around. Their friendship had weathered many storms over the years, but through the power of board games and similar styles of humor, they have been able to build bridges of mutual respect despite their different backgrounds and incomes.
The evening had been perfect so far. The dining room table was adorned with intricately designed dishes that held everyone's contributions. Priya had brought her family's curry recipe, Leo baked fresh bread, and Marcus had prepared his grandmother's roast. James brought an expensive bottle of wine while the rest were unable to bring anything this time around but this had not bothered anyone as their friendship was not built upon a ledger of debts. Wine glasses clinked as they shared stories and laughter.
As they debated whether the artificial general intelligence company that James recently started was an existential threat to each of their livelihoods, a strange rumbling shook the house. Were the AIs listening to them? Leo the engineer joked that maybe they should have put all their phones in a faraday cage bucket before entering.
A vast inter-dimensional portal ripped open above their table.
CRRRRAAACKKKK
They felt a major disturbance in the space-time continuum they realized they had taken for granted. A torrent of cash poured down—the dollars fell into neatly bundled stacks before the portal mysteriously sealed itself.
It was silent. The friends stared at the money covering their half-eaten meals now spilling onto Marcus's hardwood floor. They looked at each other back and forth in silence as smiles across each of their faces turned into hysterical laughter and screaming in disbelief.
“What the fuck.” muttered Dana the retail worker in confusion as tears rolled down her eyes.
“A golden dinner!” exclaimed Zoe the artist.
“How is this physically possible?” Leo questioned out loud, eyeing a bill in his hand through the light verifying its authenticity.
Eliza the teacher and Priya the social worker were holding each other, frozen with intense emotion as if touching the money would cause them to burst in flames.
“This is the weirdest way to be ok with my hardwood floor being ruined.” joked Marcus the doctor with a grin.
“This is an incredible opportunity! With this much money, you can start your own AI business so you don’t have to lose your job, eh Eliza?.” James the businessman smirked.
Zoe began to dance around the table of money, encouraging everyone to get up with her. For another hour they continued to drink, hug, kiss and throw the money up in ecstasy. Except for Leo who was writing down math equations on a napkin.
"I calculate this to be approximately $** million dollars." Leo says, adjusting his glasses as he looks up from his writing.
James immediately takes charge. "That’s about $* million each. If we all reinvest half of it into my new AI startup we can all still live off of the interest generated by the other half for perpetuity if we invest it right." Silence struck the room again. They didn’t say it, but they all imagined a new life where their money problems were forever gone. They all began to imagine a life where they had ultimate financial freedom. What could you do for yourself, your family and the world with that much money?
Dana laughs nervously. "Is this even real? Are we being pranked? This can’t be real."
Priya speaks up first. "Are we sure that an equal split makes the most sense? Equal isn't the same as equitable. Dana makes $15 per hour while you own three companies probably worth more than $* million. Shouldn't those who need it most receive more?"
"I've worked incredibly hard for twenty years," James counters. "And the market values what I do. Why should that diminish my share?"
Zoe puts down her wine glass. "What if we split it up based on our current incomes? That way those earning less would receive a little bit more."
"That's punishing success," James says, throwing his hands in the air. "I employ fifty people. My success benefits others. I could give them all raises! Plus I’ve always wanted to start a foundation for underserved entrepreneurial urban youth, you guys know that."
Leo pulls out another napkin and starts calculating. "We could develop a formula that accounts for current wealth, salary trajectory, debt burden, and dependents. I can create a spreadsheet—"
"This isn't a math problem," Eliza interrupts. "It's about the impact we could have with this money. My entire school district operates on less than this. Think of how many children we could help."
"My patients—" Marcus starts.
"Your patients with health insurance," Priya cuts in.
Marcus reddens. "That's unfair. I take many patients without insurance. With this money, I could start a free clinic."
"Why do we even deserve this money?" Dana asks quietly. "There are people sleeping on the streets five blocks from here while we debate how to split millions of dollars seven ways."
"So you want to give it all away?" James challenges. "Why should we give money to people we don’t even know?"
"That's exactly my point," Dana fires back. "We don’t deserve this money more than others, especially when we already have so much."
Zoe suggests using the money to establish an arts fund. "Cultural transformation is how we change society. Art is what drives movements for social change."
Leo argues for investing in green technology research. "We could really support climate issues with this kind of funding. We could drive up prices in the carbon credits market or invest in carbon capture technologies."
"Both worthy," Priya says, "but neither addresses immediate suffering. Food, housing, healthcare—people need these now."
"Why would we give handouts to these people? They are already parasites on the system." James retorts. "We wouldn’t be helping these people by just giving them money. Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and feed him for a lifetime. I didn’t grow up with any money in my family and had to learn the hard way."
"James, you've been writing off our dinners as business expenses for years," she counters. "Should we talk about your taxes? You use your position to avoid paying into the system that would have prevented these issues."
Marcus interjected to try to take some control. “Let’s not forget that you are all inside of my house. Without my invitation for dinner, we wouldn’t be having this discussion and I’d be supporting my patients without health insurance. Plus there were several people invited who couldn’t make it. Do they not get any of the money? Can’t we all agree that free healthcare is an objective good?”
Eliza turns to Marcus. "You talk about free healthcare for all while sending your kids to private school. A bit hypocritical, no? Education is just as important."
"It would be immoral for me to not provide the best for my children if I can afford it. At least I don't preach classroom equality while grading on a curve that leaves the best students unchallenged," Marcus responds.
“Why do we need to be the ones to decide how this changes the world? By empowering artists to inspire the world we could change this zeitgeist of greed and individualism that has haunted our collective soul.”Zoe tried to interject.
The conversation fractures further as Leo proposes a "logical" algorithmic distribution based on potential societal impact, which Zoe dismisses as "soulless optimization."
"Money belongs to whoever creates value," James insists.
"Value isn't just what people will pay for," Dana counters. "Is a childcare worker less valuable than a hedge fund manager? This money could help people across the board if we supported the labor unions to fight for better working conditions."
This triggered James who’s largest company was in the middle of a lawsuit with an employee who tried to start a union which he believed was funded by a joint effort between his competition and the local antifa gangs he read about in the news.
As their food grew cold and the candles burned low, their friendly dinner transformed into increasingly heated arguments. Each friend believed their perspective was the most just, the most fair, the most moral. Every proposed solution left someone feeling wronged.
They started pointing out each other's past mistakes with money, questioning each others’ character, and brought up old tensions. The very friendship that had seemed unbreakable before this cosmic anomaly began to crack under the weight of the seemingly infinite number of unlocked futures this money cursed them with.
Hours passed. The dishes remained unwashed in the sink. By sunrise, Marcus's dining room had become a battlefield of calculations on dirty napkins, moral pontification, and increasingly personal attacks.
"Maybe we should sleep on it," Eliza suggests, exhausted.
"And leave the money sitting here?" James laughs bitterly. "Right."
"The fact that we can't agree," Priya says softly, "when we're friends who care about each other... makes me seriously question our friendship."
They fall silent, the table between them buried under money and the weight of their lack of alignment.
Zoe broke the heavy silence “I can’t take it anymore. I’m leaving. I don’t want the money. I just want to make art.” She grabbed her jacket and walked out of Marcus’s upper middle class home into the cool morning light. No one tried stopping her.
She had just enough energy to walk while looking down at the floor. Her own thoughts were silent. A rare thing to happen for someone like her. The only thought she mustered to have was that at least she had new inspiration for another piece that could sell commercially.
“What’s this?” She spotted a piece of paper on the ground. She bent down to grab it. Money? What luck again! As she stared at the bill into the light to check if it was real, she noticed more bills were floating along the breeze, surfing the wind – unaware of how out of place they were.
She looked around at the aspiring middle class homes. Open windows with dollar bills floating out, the sounds of joyful screams in the distance.
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Who's perspective did you most resonate with? Did everyone have a point or is someone clearly in the right here? What's the fairest way to divvy up the money? Do airdrops mean that we all need to make contracts with one another just in case it happens between your friends?
Now please comment, share, subscribe and collect this piece to qualify for an airdrop... I'm just kidding... Or am I?
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Joshua Davila
Surfing the Wind: An Airdrop Parable No one has ever written about the effects of airdrops on communities, so I wrote a parable about it on @paragraph How a dinner party became an altar for cosmic abundance https://paragraph.com/@theblockchainsocialist.eth/surfing-the-wind
If you're one to prefer listening, you can access an audio version on my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/posts/surfing-wind-134324291