Bitcoin – to regulate or not to regulate?

And by whom?

The virtual currency Bitcoin has pretty much taken the world by storm since it’s launch in 2009. With impressive value growth, the currency has quickly become a popular choice for traders and investors. Some have even suggested that the Bitcoin and other virtual currencies could be the saving grace for countries in dire economic straits.

In March, the world’s first Bitcoin ATM was opened on Cyprus after banks had been closed for a week. The ATM allows customers to deposit “real money” into a Bitcoin ATM in exchange for bitcoins and vice versa – making the virtual currency, a very real option for those who didn’t have access to money during the Cypriot crisis.

So seemingly, the cyber-currency seems to be taking off. Stateless and bankless, Bitcoins are not subject to regulation or fees, and therefore enjoy extreme volatility, according to its proponents. But according to regulators, this is exactly the problem.

For example, Bitcoin value recently dropped by nearly 80 per cent from an all-time high of $266 before crashing to $55 on one particular bleak April day, resulting in large losses for investors.

This prompted the US financial regulator, CFTC, to consider regulating the virtual currency Bitcoin in a bid to protect consumers against the risks associated with the currency.

Growing concerns over the online cash being used for illicit activities also led the US Treasury Department to implement new money-laundering rules, forcing Bitcoin and other virtual currency firms to comply with strict regulation.

With new regulatory scrutiny, proponents of the virtual currency might find themselves hard-pressed to maintain Bitcoins’ independence from the financial authorities.

But I can’t help but ask, are these latest moves by the American authorities, too little too late?

One Bitcoin investor recently stated that if US regulations made it hard for Bitcoin businesses to operate in the US, then they would just move to other countries and still be able to use the currency wherever they wanted.

And what’s more, bitcoins have already become a global phenomenon, reaching consumers across the world and bringing with it, it’s extreme potential for risk. So the question is how much of an impact the regulation of one state can have on virtual currencies? Rather it seems, that if Bitcoin and its competitors should be regulated, it should be by a global regulatory body. So I’m definitely hoping that the potential for both extreme growth and risk in bitcoins is acknowledged soon by more than just the US regulators. 

Whether or not you support the concept or have ever bought a Bitcoin, the matter of fact is, that a lot of other people have. And with ongoing financial turmoil, many more might come to rely on the virtual currency. So hint hint regulators, now is definitely the time to ask – to regulate or not to regulate the Bitcoin?

Photograph: Getty Images

Sandra Kilhof Nielsen is a freelance writer and former reporter for Retail Banker International, Cards International & Electronic Payments International.

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Wrists, knees, terrible rages – I felt overwhelmed when Barry came to see me

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state.

To begin with, it seemed that Barry’s wrists were the problem. He told me about the pain he was experiencing, the pins and needles that came and went in his hands. I started to examine him. His palms were calloused, his fingers thick and stubby, veterans of the heavy work he’d undertaken throughout his 57 years. Even as I assessed this first problem, he mentioned his knees. I moved on to look at those. Then it was his back. I couldn’t get to grips with one thing before he veered to the next.

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state. Barry was making me feel overwhelmed, the more so as I learned that he’d been experiencing all these problems for years.

“Why are you coming to see me about them now,” I asked, “rather than six months ago – or in six months’ time?”

“I need some time off, doc.”

There was something about the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. And again, that feeling of being overwhelmed.

“What’s going on at work?” I asked him.

His tone hardened as he told me how he’d lost his temper a couple of days earlier. How one of the others had been winding him up, and something inside him had snapped, and he’d taken a swing at his workmate and landed a punch.

Barry had walked out and hadn’t been back. I tried to find out if he’d heard from his boss about the incident, if he knew what was likely to happen next.

He told me he didn’t care.

We talked some more. I learned that he’d been uncharacteristically short-tempered for months; his partner was fed up with being shouted at. Sleep had gone to pot, and Barry had taken to drinking heavily to knock himself out at night. He was smoking twice his usual amount. Men like Barry often don’t experience depression as classic low mood and tearfulness; they become filled with rage and turn in on themselves, repelling those closest to them in the process.

Depression is a complex condition, with roots that can frequently be traced right back to childhood experiences, but bouts are often precipitated by problems with relationships, work, money, or health. In Barry’s case, the main factor turned out to be his job. He’d been an HGV driver but at the start of the year his company had lost its operator’s licence. To keep the business afloat, his boss had diversified. Barry hated what he now had to do. He was now a “catcher”.

I didn’t know what that meant. Getting up at the crack of dawn, he told me, driving to some factory farm somewhere, entering huge sheds and spending hours catching chickens, thousands upon thousands of them, shoving them into crates, stashing the crates on a lorry, working under relentless pressure to get the sheds cleared and the birds off to the next stage of the food production chain.

“It’s a young man’s game,” he told me. “It’s crippling me, all that bending and catching.”

It wasn’t really his joints, though. Men like Barry can find it hard to talk about difficult emotion, but it was there in his eyes. I had a sudden understanding: Barry, capturing bird after panicking bird, stuffing them into the transport containers, the air full of alarmed clucking and dislodged feathers. Hour after hour of it. It was traumatising him, but he couldn’t admit anything so poncey.

“I just want to get back to driving.”

That would mean landing a new job, and he doubted he would be able to do so, not at his age. He couldn’t take just any old work, either: he had to earn a decent wage to keep up with a still sizeable mortgage.

We talked about how antidepressants might improve his symptoms, and made a plan to tackle the alcohol. I signed him off to give him some respite and a chance to look for new work – the one thing that was going to resolve his depression. But in the meantime, he felt as trapped as the chickens that he cornered, day after soul-destroying day.

Phil Whitaker’s novel “Sister Sebastian’s Library” will be published by Salt in September

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt