Innovators or Cowards? Drawing Parallels Between Today’s Blockchain “Innovators” and Bulgakov’s Masterpiece, Master and Margarita
I recently saw the new cinematic adaptation of Mikhail Bulgakov’s “Master and Margarita”, where I was honestly blown away by the cinematography and the production quality of the film.
This experience reignited my interest in Bulgakov’s novel, a work I first delved into during my freshman year in college. Due to its complexity and non-linear narrative structure, the core essence of the book remained elusive to me until the film illuminated to me its central themes and philosophical foundations.
The film’s portrayal of Bulgakov’s work led me to draw an unexpected connection to the current era of cryptocurrency and blockchain “innovators,” such as the leaders of 1inch, a closed source “decentralized exchange”, and Circle, the leading “probably stable” stablecoin issuer. Despite proclaiming their mission to liberate society from the confines of traditional financial systems, they paradoxically found themselves mingling with the very architects of these systems at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, this year.
Maybe it’s a lack of knowledge or naiveté that makes many blockchain startup founders to flock to an event where the organizers openly state to the public “you’ll own nothing and you’ll be happy” in promotional videos regarding how they wish to see the future of society. Of course it won’t be the World Economic Forum organizers that don’t own anything, they’ll own everything and tell you to be happy.
Naiveté or not, I bet any ounce of cognitive dissonance these “leading blockchain innovators” might have felt at Davos was swiftly quelled by the flowing champagne and the DJs’ loud music at many of the afterparties.
If you can stand the cringe, you can watch the entire Davos crypto afterparty video on LinkedIn.
This juxtaposition led me to ponder the true nature of innovation in the context of societal and economic structures — prompting questions about the genuine intent and moral integrity behind the facade of disruption and progress.
For those who don’t know, “The Master and Margarita” is a novel by Mikhail Bulgakov, written between 1928 and 1940, but not published in book form until 1967. The novel is considered one of the masterpieces of 20th-century Russian literature. It weaves together two primary storylines, one set in Moscow during the 1930s and the other in Jerusalem during the time of Pontius Pilate, the Roman leader who allowed the execution of Jesus Christ.
The novel begins in Moscow in the spring of 1933, where the Devil, in human form disguised as a German man named Woland, arrives at Patriarch’s Ponds, a well-known posh area in Moscow, and interrupts the discussion of two writers, discussing the nonexistence of Jesus Christ and the materialist interpretation of history.
During the book, the Devil creates all sorts of fantastical events to point out the hypocrisy of soviet ideology. One of the final acts of Devil is to hijack a play based on the future of the Soviet Union, and to instead have a demonstration of “black magic”.
During the performance, the Devil invites volunteers to come forward so he can transform their attire into luxurious designer outfits. Initially, the soviet audience is reluctant, but after witnessing the Devil magically change one woman’s outfit into a lavish and expensive dress, the crowd becomes frenzied, eagerly wanting to also be adorned in similarly extravagant fashion.
At the finale of the performance, the Devil makes money fall from the ceiling. As the money begins to fall, the initially astonished audience quickly succumbs to their greed, scrambling to catch as much as they can.
This chaotic scramble for the falling currency highlights the crowd’s materialistic desires and the lengths to which they will go to acquire wealth, even in the face of unexplained, supernatural phenomena.
The scene serves as a powerful visual metaphor for Soviet society’s underlying hypocrisy and greed, despite its professed ideals of equality and communal sharing.
Despite the official promotion of communist ideals emphasizing equality, sharing, and the abolition of private property, the characters in the novel continue to exhibit traditional human desires and weaknesses.
Through Woland’s interactions and the unfolding events in “The Master and Margarita,” Mikhail Bulgakov subtly critiques Soviet ideology and the reality of its implementation, suggesting that it serves as an idealistic cover-up for deeper human vices such as greed, materialism, and hypocrisy.
Bulgakov uses the Devil’s presence and actions as a mirror to society, revealing the contradictions and moral failings of those who outwardly profess to live by communist principles but inwardly pursue their selfish interests.
The novel also highlights the fear of dissent against authority within Soviet society. Through the absurd and often surreal punishments that Woland and his retinue inflict on Moscow’s citizens, Bulgakov showcases the consequences of a society where fear stifles genuine expression and criticism.
The widespread fear of deviating from the party line, of being seen as not fully embracing Soviet ideals, is a theme that runs throughout the book, with characters often more concerned with appearances and their own safety than with any ideological conviction.
The novel suggests that beneath the surface of the Soviet ideal of creating a new kind of human being — free from selfish desires and capitalist tendencies — lies the unalterable nature of humanity, with all its flaws and complexities.
Cowardice
The theme of cowardice and reluctance to challenge authoritarianism is a significant undercurrent in the novel. This theme manifests through various characters and plotlines, most notably in the figures of Pontius Pilate and the contemporary Moscow literary elite.
Bulgakov employs these characters to delve into the moral and ethical repercussions of yielding to authority from a standpoint of fear or self-preservation, and the ramifications of not defending one’s beliefs and convictions.
In the Moscow narrative of the book, the literary and theatrical elite — comprising critics, writers, and bureaucrats — frequently exhibit cowardice through their uncritical acceptance of the dominant Soviet ideology.
Their fear of reprisal leads them to reject anything that deviates from the official party line. This fear of authority ensures their complicity in a system that suppresses free thought and creativity, illustrating the personal and societal costs of cowardice in the face of authoritarianism.
The members of the literary elite are portrayed as more concerned with their safety and status than with the truth or artistic integrity, reflecting Bulgakov’s critique of Soviet censorship and the lack of moral courage among those who enforce or abide by it.
The storyline of Pontius Pilate in “The Master and Margarita” serves as a historical parallel to the modern-day Moscow narrative, further exploring the theme of cowardice. Pilate, despite his powerful position as the prefect of Judea, exhibits his own form of cowardice.
Pontius Pilate recognizes the innocence and wisdom of Yeshua Ha-Notsri (Jesus) but chooses to condemn him to death to appease the crowd and maintain political stability. Pilate’s internal conflict and his eventual regret underscore the moral and spiritual costs of his failure to act according to his conscience, ultimately leading him to succumb to the pressures that can metaphorically be seen as yielding to the Devil’s influence.
Pilate’s story is a poignant exploration of the consequences of yielding to authority and public opinion at the expense of justice and personal integrity.
The Cowardice of “Blockchain Innovators” and Proponents of DeFi
Upon revisiting the complex themes of Mikhail Bulgakov’s “The Master and Margarita,” it becomes strikingly apparent how the narratives of today’s leading figures in the blockchain and DeFi sectors mirror those depicted in the novel.
Much like Bulgakov’s portrayal of characters who mask their underlying motives with a facade of virtue, a number of today’s blockchain “innovators” seem to cloak their greed and reluctance to challenge the status quo under the guise of promoting decentralized finance — a movement heralded for its potential to democratize financial systems and empower individuals with control over their financial assets.
However, there is a palpable tension between the revolutionary ideals these leaders profess and their actions, particularly in how they navigate the regulatory landscapes. The very individuals who champion the cause of DeFi, promising a future where financial sovereignty and autonomy are within everyone’s grasp, are often found in the company of people whose actions and beliefs starkly contrast the foundational principles of decentralization and blockchain technology.
The same individuals who position themselves as pioneers in blockchain technology often associate in their leisure with advocates of stringent pandemic lockdowns, supporters of significant population control measures, and environmental activists who, despite their stance, paradoxically increase carbon emissions by flying private jets to elite events such as Davos.
This juxtaposition becomes starkly evident when these blockchain innovators, who voice support for the developers of Tornado Cash — a privacy-enhancing protocol on Ethereum Virtual Machine (EVM) chains — also accept financial backing from traditional banking institutions. These are the very institutions that follow OFAC guidelines who label the Tornado Cash developers as “criminals”.
The contradiction here is stark: advocating for a technology that enhances privacy and financial sovereignty, while simultaneously aligning with entities that embody the centralization and surveillance DeFi seeks to dismantle.
The question then arises: How can one genuinely advocate for decentralized finance while engaging with and supporting the mechanisms and figures of traditional power structures, such as those convening in Davos? This scenario reveals a level of hypocrisy reminiscent of Bulgakov’s characters, who navigate a world rife with contradictions, performing a delicate dance between their ideals and the realities imposed by societal and political pressures.
In this light, the narrative of “The Master and Margarita” serves not only as a critique of the Soviet regime of Bulgakov’s time but also as a timeless reflection on the human condition, challenging today’s DeFi leaders to introspect on the authenticity of their commitment to the principles of decentralization and financial sovereignty.
The novel beckons us to question whether the pursuit of innovation and change can truly coexist with the compromises made in the face of regulatory and societal constraints, or if these compromises betray the very essence of the revolution they aim to lead.
Cowardice as the gravest sin
In the landscape of Mikhail Bulgakov’s “The Master and Margarita,” cowardice emerges not merely as a flaw but as the gravest of sins — an act of betrayal against one’s integrity and the truth.
This thematic undercurrent resonates deeply within the narrative, illustrating how the failure to stand by one’s convictions under the weight of authoritarian scrutiny or societal pressure leads to spiritual and moral bankruptcy. The characters who exhibit cowardice, who fail to confront or challenge the prevailing currents of their time, suffer profound consequences, underscoring Bulgakov’s critique of the Soviet society’s suppression of dissent and the individual’s complicity through silence or conformity.
This notion of cowardice as the paramount sin finds a compelling parallel in today’s world of blockchain “innovators” and the DeFi space, where the ideals of decentralization and financial sovereignty often clash with the realities of regulatory frameworks and societal norms.
The reluctance to push against these regulations, for fear of reprisal or loss of status or capital, echoes the cowardice Bulgakov depicted. It reveals a tension between the revolutionary potential of blockchain technology and the compromises its proponents make when faced with the mechanisms of traditional power structures.
Manuscripts don’t burn
The novel’s climax brings us to Woland’s (the Devil’s) profound assertion that “manuscripts don’t burn.” This statement transcends its literal meaning to symbolize the indestructibility of ideas, of truth, despite attempts to suppress or destroy them.
In the context of blockchain and DeFi, smart contracts and blockchain ledgers can be seen as the modern “manuscript” — immutable, distributed across countless nodes, resisting censorship or alteration.
Just as Bulgakov’s manuscripts held the power to challenge oppressive regimes and convey immutable truths, smart contract code embodies the resilience of innovation against attempts to curtail its potential.
Code, like manuscripts, carries ideas that cannot be unthought, offering new ways of organizing society and finance that persist beyond the attempts to regulate or suppress them.
// SPDX-License-Identifier: MIT
pragma solidity ^0.8.0;
contract Manuscript {
function stateTruth() public pure returns (string memory) {
return "Manuscripts don't burn";
}
}The parallel between Bulgakov’s manuscripts and today’s blockchain tech-stack underscores a timeless struggle between innovation and authority, between the courage to uphold one’s ideals and the cowardice of concession.
This dynamic is further illuminated by the frequent inquiries I receive about the legality of the code I write. It’s puzzling and somewhat disheartening that the initial reaction of some is to question its legality. Code is merely text on a screen, compiled into bytecode — how can the first concern be its legality?
This reflex perhaps reveals a deeper societal apprehension towards innovation, an instinctive tendency to confine new ideas within the rigid frameworks of existing laws and norms, rather than exploring their potential to reshape society for the better.
The enduring message of “The Master and Margarita” reminds us that true innovation — whether in the form of literary masterpieces or groundbreaking technology — possesses an inherent resilience. It challenges us to consider the value of steadfastness in the pursuit of change, and the role of integrity in the face of adversity.
As we navigate the complexities of the modern financial revolution, the Devil’s assertion that “manuscripts don’t burn” shines as a guiding light, stating that despite ideas being disputed, suppressed, or even vilified, they persist as unerasable and powerful agents of change, much like smart contracts and the underlying code of blockchain technology.
If you enjoyed this article, please like and share it.
You can follow the “fireproof” code that I write by following me on GitHub: https://github.com/partylikeits1983
