[Editorial] Freeze Satoshi's wallet
[Editorial] Freeze Satoshi's wallet

Bitcoin developers have put forward a disturbing proposal: to address the threat posed by quantum computers, freeze outdated wallets with vulnerabilities, and force all users to transfer their assets to new addresses.

It sounds reasonable. But carrying it out would be a disaster.

In wallets created before 2013, about 1.7 million bitcoins lie dormant. These wallets came into being before seed phrases appeared. There is no recovery method. Once frozen, they will disappear forever. This also includes the 1.1 million bitcoins held by Satoshi Nakamoto, the founder.

But what if no one does anything? By the 2030s, when quantum computers become real, hackers could break the existing cryptographic system and dump 7 million bitcoins onto the market all at once. This is a scenario that would shake the very foundation of Bitcoin’s continued existence.

There are only two choices: either you seal off these 1.7 million coins yourself, or you hand 7 million coins over to the hackers. Mathematically speaking, the answer is already obvious.

Even so, the community hesitates. And there is a reason for that.

Satoshi’s wallet is more than just money. It is the origin of the Bitcoin experiment, and a symbol of unwritten rules. No governing authority, no group of developers can touch it—this belief supports Bitcoin’s sense of identity. Having developers reach consensus to freeze wallets is not a technical measure; it is a self-denial of the myth of decentralization.

The irony here grows even sharper. At its root, Satoshi’s design philosophy was to block any intervention by centralized power—a system in which even nations, banks, and developers cannot change the rules. This is not a bug; it is a feature. And yet today, we are calmly discussing a plan in which developers freeze wallets and force migrations.

Looking back, Bitcoin has long since drifted away from its original design. Anonymity is gone. Bitcoin has become the most tightly tracked system among existing financial networks. Accessibility has also collapsed. KYC (know your customer), centralized exchanges, and reliance on banking infrastructure have become standard practice. Tokens that market themselves as privacy-focused have been systematically driven out of the market. At the level of essence rather than form, today’s Bitcoin has already undergone multiple hard forks from Satoshi’s Bitcoin.

Governance is harder than technology.

Bitcoin’s resistance to hard forks is not just a matter of inertia. It is a core attribute that preserves people’s trust in a “neutral, rules-based system.” A hard fork that includes freezing Satoshi’s wallet would require broad consensus across the community. Yet Bitcoin’s decentralized structure is precisely designed to make it difficult to reach that kind of consensus. It is a trap it set for itself.

So time becomes the key variable. It is necessary to secure enough time for thorough discussion before the quantum threat becomes real. Only then can consensus be guided rationally beyond fear. The later the discussion, the fewer options remain, and the more bluntly decisions will be made.

Survival comes before myth.

Bitcoin is now at a crossroads of narrative: to protect the myth of Satoshi, or to choose the survival of the network? I understand that touching an old wallet feels like blasphemy against a divine being. But emotion cannot stop quantum computers. When the quantum threat becomes real, the only way to prevent market confidence from evaporating is to safeguard the collective liquidity.

Waiting for Satoshi to awaken is no longer an answer. The real question lies elsewhere: even if Satoshi appeared right now, who would actually listen to what he says?

If Bitcoin wants to protect itself, it needs the courage to let go of the myth—even if that means sealing the founder’s wallet forever.