3 Min. LesezeitThere is something beautifully ironic in the way the world functions today: an elegance, almost, in the dysfunction. Central banks pretend to be disciplined. Governments pretend to be solvent. The great failing of our time is the deliberate refusal to confront reality. Everyone keeps dancing, hoping the music doesn’t stop. Whether in Washington, Brussels, or Frankfurt, those who cook monetary policy have become political actors more than responsible fiduciaries.
In this great scheme of things, Trump may be many things — controversial, divisive, polarizing — but he’s not stupid. He understands the power of leverage and its associated excess. After all, he made his name in real estate. And real estate, at its core, is a leverage game. You borrow cheap, build big, and pray the market floats you upward.
That mindset never left him. It defines his view on interest rates. Trump doesn’t want a strong dollar. He doesn’t want high rates. He wants capital to be cheap and plentiful. Why? Because he wants to refinance America like he refinanced his buildings. He wants to build — walls, infrastructure, slogans — and you don’t build at 6% borrowing costs. You do it at 2%, with the Fed as your private bank.
The problem is, he’s facing Jerome Powell until the end of his term in 2026 at the earliest. And Powell, at least for now, has other priorities — namely, inflation. So what does Trump do? He goes to war — not literal war, but economic war. Tariffs become his weapon of choice. Not because he believes in protectionism as doctrine, but because it’s a tool. A lever. A way to rattle markets just enough to force the Fed’s hand. It’s like poker: the threat of the move and its potential consequences are more powerful than the move itself. Once you lay your cards down, the leverage is gone. But as long as the threat remains in the air, you control the tempo.
What comes after a liquidity crisis
This isn’t just speculation. Look at the liquidity crises forming in corners of the market. Look at Tesla — the chaos in the boardroom, the CEO MIA, the FT running headlines about disappearing leadership. This isn’t just about tech stocks. It’s a proxy for sentiment and confidence. When confidence falters, liquidity dries up. When liquidity dries up, leverage becomes expensive, forcing liquidation of some position. Next markets are getting a little too unsettled and that’s when the central banks are forced to react.
Trump understands that. He’s betting Powell will blink before he does. But the consequences of that game are still to be determined. If Trump wins and forces Powell into submission, we may see a rapid return to rate cuts, QE relaunches, and cheap money flooding the system. On paper, that’s bullish. For Bitcoin, it’s a dream.
Let’s pause here to consider the European picture, although “picture” may be too generous a word. People are talking about a “return to strength” for European stocks. This enthusiasm is understandable after years of stagnation, but it’s likely premature to celebrate. It’s true that Berlin’s recent pivot toward looser fiscal policy and a significant investment plan signals an interesting shift—but let’s not kid ourselves: structurally, Germany is boxed in. The country is facing industrial slowdown, a fractured energy strategy, and a population aging faster than any monetary patch can keep up with. And the same holds true across much of Europe. Politicians in Brussels will spin it however they like. But in this context, I’d argue that the current hype around the EU is more of a PR stunt than a concrete change of mind. You can’t subsidize your way out of a structural crisis. And as I’ve written many times before: when trust in institutions—monetary or fiscal—erodes, markets start looking for alternatives.
Which brings me back to Bitcoin. People still ask me why I believe in it. And my answer is always the same: because it is the only constant in a world of variables. Bitcoin didn’t change. It hasn’t been “successful” in the way people talk about stock performance. Bitcoin simply is. It is as it was in 2009 — a protocol, a network, a philosophy. The price rises when the system around it continues to fail. The perception of “success” is just the reflection of others’ collapse.
A paradoxical injunction faced by J. Powell
This isn’t hyperbole. It’s math. The dollar doesn’t inflate because Bitcoin wins. Bitcoin wins because the dollar inflates. Fiat currencies are built on promises: promises to repay, to restrain, to reform. Bitcoin is built on code - “Vires in Numeris”. You don’t negotiate with code. You verify it. Trust is replaced by transparency. That’s why governments fear it. And why institutions are finally beginning to adopt it — not because it’s trendy, but because the alternatives are eroding.
Back to Powell. He faces a paradoxical injunction. Inflation isn’t gone. But the political pressure is rising. Growth is faltering and warning signs of recession are appearing. And so the Fed starts to wobble.
So where does that leave us? In a world where the dollar weakens, the Fed capitulates, and the political circus of tariffs and tech trials marches on, there’s very little left that feels permanent. DOGE cuts spending. But cutting spending also cuts GDP. When your entire economy runs on fiscal steroids, austerity isn’t an answer — it’s a threat. Every dollar not spent by the government reverberates through DC real estate, private contractors, defense, healthcare, tech. It’s a web, the famous government spent multiplicator. Pull one thread and the whole fabric frays.
That’s why the impact of government action — or inaction — is exponential. When the DOJ prosecutes fraud, it stops the guilty. But more importantly, it frightens the guilty-adjacent. It creates behavioral change.
In that environment, assets that exist outside the system — truly outside — aren’t just attractive. They’re necessary. Consider this: despite the liquidation of 200,000 BTC by state actors, despite regulatory overhang, Bitcoin remains above $85,000. That would have been unthinkable five years ago. It’s not a weakness. It’s resilience. We are entering a period of profound geopolitical and monetary paradigm shift. The U.S. is playing chicken with its central bank. Europe is still looking for a clear direction. The East is manoeuvering for local dominance. And through it all, one asset, one protocol, remains unchanged. Not because it’s perfect. But because it’s immune.
Bitcoin is not a trade. It’s an exit.
