How I Went from Laughing at Crypto to Having Existential Web3 Thoughts

Five years ago, if you had told me I’d be writing about Web3, I would have smiled and said, “Of course,” because I’m too curious for my own good. Crypto? Blockchain? NFTs? It all sounded like a scam.

And yet—here we are. Once again, ahead of my time, I’m actively trying to convince Swedes—a people who trust banks more than their own mothers—that this actually matters. Somewhere along the way, my skepticism turned into curiosity, my curiosity turned into obsession, and my obsession led me to actually start writing about this stuff.

The moment it all started to go wrong

Like many, my introduction to crypto came through a friend who lost a ton of money trading Bitcoin. “I mean, why just hodl when you can beat the market?” The Swedish media had already confirmed what I suspected—crypto was either a Ponzi scheme, a money-laundering tool, or just a really good way to lose money. And as a rational, law-abiding Swede, I knew better.

Then, one evening, sitting there with my daily bowl of porridge, I made the mistake of watching some YouTube videos. First, it was harmless curiosity. But soon, I had spent hundreds of hours watching Raoul Pal, Charles Hoskinson, Paul Barron, Brad Garlinghouse, and Michael Saylor rant about decentralization and financial freedom. Sweet Buddha, I even found myself lying in bed watching BitBoy Crypto and cursing every time Gary Gensler made the news. My friends were getting worried.

And then it hit me.

"Wait a second… what if they’re right?"

They weren’t just gambling on dog coins. They were talking about a new internet, a financial system that doesn’t require permission, and the possibility that trusting massive institutions with everything we own might not be the best idea ever.

My existential crisis

At first, I tried to shake it off. After all, Sweden had a perfectly regulated financial system! Who needs crypto when we have Swish and our government-approved banking overlords?

But Web3, I realized, wasn’t just about money. It was about power, ownership, and control. It was about the fact that most of us willingly hand over all our data, assets, and digital identities to a handful of companies who monetize every click we make.

Meanwhile, Sweden’s Web3 discourse is… well, let’s just say it needs some work. The conversation still sounds like this:

"Crypto is a scam."
"But blockchain could revolutionize finance!"
"Okay, but Bitcoin is bad for the environment."
"Yes, but Ethereum moved to proof-of-stake"
"I don’t trust it. My bank works just fine."

Meanwhile, the U.S., Europe, and Asia are already integrating blockchain into finance, healthcare, and governance, while Sweden still acts like Web3 is some rebellious teenager who just needs to grow up and get a corporate job.

So, why am I still here?

Well, my mom says I’m special. So, obviously, I had to step in.

Honestly, it wasn’t one single “aha” moment. It was one major realization:

If people like me—who care about social development and human well-being—don’t engage with Web3, then the space will be shaped by those who only care about profit.

So now, I’m here, running Cryptobeyer, asking the questions Sweden isn’t—hoping that one day, someone will actually answer. ”Hello does anyone hear me?”