The tender, age of four (Photo: Getty Images/George Frey)
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Bitcoin is proving why it can't be called 'money' - yet

Bitcoin is incredible, but the power of a currency is its credit - and Bitcoin hasn't got there yet.

It’s a big week for Bitcoin. In the last forty-eight hours alone the value of one Bitcoin (1 BTC) rocketed from £328 to £511 and, as many predicted, in the past twelve it crashed back down again to a low of £322, a rise and fall of over 50%. It is currently fluctuating fairly madly around the £350 mark. But it is fair to say these look more like growing pains than death throes. 

It is worth remembering that just a week ago Bitcoin was only worth £227, and seven months ago people were pulling out their hair because the market crashed from £169 to £84. It is still approximately forty times more valuable than this time last year, so there is one outcome of this latest spasm perhaps more significant than the price itself: now it’s got everyone’s attention.

Bitcoin is being trumpeted as a paradigm shift by firebrand market analysts like Max Keiser and tech gurus like John McAfee. Both are urging everyone to clean up now before it’s ubiquitous. Speaking to Canadian television, McAfee said: “Bitcoins will be everywhere and the world will have to readjust. World governments will have to readjust.” And perhaps not coincidentally, Bitcoin prices rose nearly £20 in the three days after Keiser championed Bitcoin on Have I Got News For You a fortnight ago.

So, if the buzz is to be believed, one of two things can happen from this point:

  1. Obviously such rampant growth is unsustainable. Bitcoin is a classic flash in the pan, will-o’-the-wisp, dotcom-style bubble, and it will lead a few early sellers to riches and thousands of others to ruin and/or disappointment.
  2. Governments will attempt but fail to control the burgeoning cryptocurrency, which will undermine the increasingly exploitative and crisis-prone finance industry hegemons, peacefully ushering in a new era of decentralised democratic money unburdened by unfair fees and the dangers of things like toxic mortgages.

It’s undoubtedly exciting, and bombast is tempting, but there is little point pretending to be Nostradamus when investors are still so flighty. All we can do is diagnose what’s going on right now.

So what was behind the latest boom? A lot of Bitcoin’s growth has come on the tail of some huge media coverage this last month. Aside from the latest drama, two particular news stories last month boosted the currency’s profile. The first was the fairytale story of a Norwegian man who bought 5,000BTC when they were invented in 2009, at £14, and promptly forgot about them. When he remembered them this year, they were worth £550,000. Quite an advert.

The second, somewhat ironically, was the FBI’s dramatic closure of Silk Road last month. As well as hearing about Bitcoin for the first time, people found out you could order pretty much any illegal substance from the comfort of your living room, anonymously - which is not something any other currency will offer any time soon. When the FBI arrested Ulbricht, the alleged head of Silk Road, they seized his ‘wallet’ containing 144,336BTC. (At the time, that was worth £17.3m, but just over a month later it is already worth over £50m.) As time goes on, this big-ticket arrest is looking more and more like a Pyrrhic victory for the FBI, because as even mainstream news sources acknowledge, the Silk Road is now thoroughly back online – along with a range of other competing black market sites (and now even more people know about them too).

What’s more, the danger that bitcoins will somehow leach away the world’s tax revenues and lead to anarchy is rapidly dissolving, as governments decide how to cope with them. Yesterday, in an act that clearly knocked many off the fence and into the Bitcoin market, the US Department of Justice told the US Senate committee for Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs that Bitcoins are "legitimate financial instruments" – a statement at once bold and vague, but certainly the first step on the road to regulation and a huge boost to buyer confidence.

The German government has already categorized Bitcoin as a ‘unit of account’, that is, officially recognizing it as money taxable under capital gains, which has lead many to speculate that others in the Eurozone may soon follow suit. However, not all governments have been so welcoming: in July, Thailand banned Bitcoin outright.

Our own HMRC is suggesting bitcoins will soon be taxable in their own right as ‘single use vouchers’ – a clumsy definition, as ‘vouchers’ have a relatively stable face value and bitcoins are repeatedly proving to have anything but.

But, as it stands, it’s difficult to argue the boom is motivated by anything more than the desire to make a quick buck. The largest Bitcoin exchange, BTC China, led today’s selling spree, in a rather blunt demonstration that Bitcoin has not proven its worth as a social investment just yet. Whatever its increasingly extreme price swings may eventually portend, it hasn’t earned the right to be called ‘money’. As the Washington Post’s Neil Irwin quipped back after the last Bitcoin crash, in April:

"If a currency can lose 75 percent of its buying power in two days, it may not be the best store of value. . .

What makes money money is what you can do with it. If you can purchase the goods and services that you want and need with it, it is money; if you can’t, it isn’t."

Bitcoin can be used in some shops around the States, a whole street in Berlin, thousands of online stores, and there is even a Bitcoin ATM in Vancouver. Some people have experimented living exclusively using Bitcoin – one successfully managed a Bitcoin roadtrip as early as 2011 (though he mostly paid other Bitcoiners to pay in US dollars…).

But clearly to the vast majority of its buyers, Bitcoin remains a surreally lucrative, volatile asset; it has a hefty price, but does it have value? Its proponents call these wild swings ‘price corrections’ as the market realizes the currency’s true value, but the element of faith still outweighs the evidence.

Bitcoin is, in many ways, incredible; but the entire power - indeed the entire point - of a currency is its ‘credit’. Time will tell if this week’s conversations in the Senate have changed all that. But for now, it looks like the main force behind the Bitcoin boom is indistinguishable from that which has been behind every other boom: buy low, sell high.

N.B.: figures correct at time of publishing, but probably not for long.

Photo: Getty
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We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.