The twilight of religion
Since the dawn of civilization, religion has been a cornerstone of human existence. Its role has varied in myriad ways, but at its crux lies the comfort Gods offer during adversity, and help humanity make sense of wanton chaos. Religion has also served as a social mesh to bind people to order, hierarchy, and morals, offering a sense of identity in a harsh and unchartered world. In time, this evolved to include elaborate rituals with sacred ornaments, while guiding human behavior and influencing legal code.
The industrial revolution that occurred after the Age of Enlightenment upended this tradition. The world grew secular, and theocratic convention waned in favor of science. Nothing captured this zeitgeist more than the polemical philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900) who famously proclaimed: "God is dead: but as the human race is constituted, there will perhaps be caves for millenniums yet, in which people will show his shadow. — And we — we have still to overcome his shadow!”
Humanity, armed with technology, are now pseudo-Masters of the Earth, and did not have to beseech a Higher Entity for good harvest, safe passage, and mitigating disasters. While the spiritual presence of God has dissipated, the long shadow that He has casted over millennia remains. And it is in that shadow, where our morality has been shackled to religion, that nihilism reigns. With the erosion of religious institutions, Nietzsche saw both promise and danger — a world where humanity was free from religious dogma but also lacked a shared moral framework. Today, many wonder if the new systems we’ve created are adequate replacements for the spiritual, communal, and moral guidance that religion once provided.
The age of decadence
In the 150+ years following the industrial revolution (after the ruinous Great Wars), humanity experienced unprecedented material prosperity, further decreasing dependence on religion as a coping mechanism in tough eras. Material prosperity offered a new kind of security, reducing the need for the metaphysical assurances that religion once provided.
This rise of consumerism also allowed humanity to seek fulfillment through possessions and experiences rather than through spiritual practices. Capitalism, in some sense, became the new belief system, with the promise of progress, growth, and individual achievement supplanting the communal, sacrificial tenets of most traditional religions. The more people could control their environment — through medicine, technology, and financial stability — the less they relied on divine intervention for their well-being. No longer were prayers directed at deities for abundance; instead, the market became the arbiter of prosperity, and wealth became a sign of virtue.
Post-Nietzschism
As Nietzsche foresaw however, His shadow still persisted, driven by human drive for meaning and community. Over time, new-age "sub-cults" emerged to fill the void, offering alternative totems, rituals, and beliefs that mimic the role of traditional religion. These usually revolve around modern lifestyles, habits, and even subcultures:
Running: What started as a way to stay in shape has evolved into a digital-era devotion, courtesy of apps like Strava. The satisfaction isn’t merely physical, but rather the sense of belonging, validated by the metrics of a fitness app. The ritual isn’t only the run; it’s the shared digital pilgrimage.
Yoga: Originally a deeply spiritual practice, yoga now functions as a wellness religion of sorts. It transcends mere exercise, becoming a form of spiritual devotion in itself. The journey toward inner peace feels like a rite of passage in a secular world desperate for meaning.
Stanley cups: A brand of drinkware that have ascended beyond utility, with a cult-like following. Owning one is a symbol of status, and the community around it thrives on this shared obsession. Stanley Cups now function as modern-day talismans, with the same fervor usually reserved for holy objects.
Ayahuasca: Psychedelic rituals have made a comeback, with ayahuasca ceremonies becoming spaces for modern spiritual seekers to find life-altering transformation. The plant is the sacrament, and the gatherings sanctuaries where participants seek healing, meaning, and a fleeting brush with the divine.
Fanbases: In the new world, celebrity worship has its own churches, and fandoms are the congregations. K-pop stans, Swifties, and others share a religious-like devotion, complete with hierarchies, insider knowledge, and rituals. These communities offer a sense of identity, where the music or celebrity becomes a source of meaning and belonging.
In a world that no longer relies on divine intervention, these modern cults offer the solace, structure, and sense of identity that religion once did. And in this age of hyperconnectivity, crypto may be the most fascinating frontier yet.
New-age crypto cults
Nowhere is the post-religious landscape more intriguing than in the world of cryptocurrency, where digital communities have taken on the traits of religious cults. Unlike the fleeting consumerist trends or celebrity worship, crypto movements are deeply ideological and centered around technology, decentralization, and financial autonomy. In the crypto context, these are usually tight-knit, select, and terminally online laymen, characterized by the "Godhead":
Crusaders: Ardent believers (aka “reply guys”) who tirelessly shill and promote their project in any and all context. Their focus lies on heretic conversion and raids to defend their Cause. Crusaders also rely on a shared culture base of memes and lingua to differentiate between laymen and heretics.
Lore: Memes, copypastas, and history that underpin the bedrock of the Cult. These are stories with inside references that only the devoted laymen would understand, which further unite the commune with Us against Them. The strongest cults also share a common "resurrection myth", of surviving a traumatic near-death experience, from BTC's Mt. Gox to ETH's The DAO to SOL's SBF downfall. Lore can also be bolstered by "relics", meta/physical limited edition merch that serve as one's proof of OG within the cult.
Pagoda: Is the commune itself, where the devoted gather and rest and create ammunition for new Crusaders and Lore. These digital spaces foster a sense of belonging and reinforce the shared values of the community. They provide a hierarchy of intimacy, from public Twitter forums to private, exclusive group chats on Telegram or Discord.
Several well-known crypto protocols have risen to cult status, the most notable of which are BTC, ETH, and SOL. Whispers abound however, of a rising cult — Hyperliquid, which while nascent, has all the trappings to ascend as one.
On Twitter, Crypto's most public "Agora", Hyperliquid crusaders have emerged to bring word out, from evangelizing the protocol to defending FUD from incumbent cults. The Cult also has an impeccable genesis myth, namely its immaculate conception (bootstrapped entirely without any VC backing) that no other project has been able to achieve in recent times. This is even more poignant in our current times, where the market are saturated by multiple low-float high FDV listings of VC-backed projects that have went down only. At the same time, we see multiple exclusive Communes being created in the space, from HypurrCollective (3rd party ecosystem commune to foster growth) to HyperActive (3rd party ecosystem fund). In addition, during the recent (2024) Token2049, Hyperliquid held its first official event which gave out plushies, which have turned into coveted relics in the space, reinforcing the cult-like devotion within Hyperliquid's growing community.
Hyperliquid is still in its formative stages, but its combination of enthusiastic crusaders, compelling lore, and tangible relics suggests that it could soon join the ranks of fully-fledged crypto cults. Additionally, the platform boasts of metrics that hints at Hyperliquid's claim on the holy grail of products — PMF
Some metrics as of 1st October:
24h perp volume: $1.4b
OI: >$1b
Total TVL: $711m
Largest open single position on HL: $176m
HLP vault: $167m
Largest user HF vault: $14m
These metrics are highly impressive, considering the stage of the protocol. Crucially, Hyperliquid barely incentivizes perpetual volumes at all, with the bulk mostly going to spot. The whale longing $176m worth of BTC on Hyperliquid has only garnered 15k points for his massive position, barely top 500 in rank amongst all points holder. Having PMF and a solid user base will lend immense longevity to the Cult's persistence, thereby laying the groundwork for its grand ascension.
The mimicry cults of Memecoins
While the deeper-rooted crypto communities offer real utility and a solid foundation for their devotees, the crypto world also plays host to a more transient, fragile cult: memecoins. These represent the most fragile and fleeting type of crypto cult. Unlike Bitcoin or Solana, which have real-world applications and long-term communities, memecoins are driven largely by hype, humor, and virality. Their laymen are mostly mercenaries, drawn to the volatile price action and viral moments rather than any ideological foundation. As such, such cults mostly turn out to be explosive, attention-grabbing, and often short-lived.
At the core of memecoin "cults" lies one unshakable foundation: price action. Unlike other communities that rally around a product, ideology, or mission, the strongest allure for memecoins is the wild fluctuation in the coin's price. This draws in low-quality laymen, creating its signature "burj khalifa" price action. The absence of a lodestar (product or dream) however, is a double-edged sword, revolving around the value of the token. Without a basis — no product to return to, no intrinsic value, no unifying mission — many communes fall apart easily when the speculative frenzy ends.
That said, its lack of utility and product also unbounds valuation from reality, and is not held back by revenue nor metrics. While such memecoins are characterized by mercenary crusaders, weaker lore, and slippery pagoda, the very few that do thrive despite these flaws have generated asinine returns for its most devoted. Even today, while many OG "utility" tokens like Litecoin or EOS have lost its prime position as the top 10 coins from years past, dogecoin has instead ascended and is now trading at $17b MC.
The memecoin space however, will only get harder to trade in time. Tools like pump.fun and bonkbot has commoditized the creation and trading of such coins that the trenches are rougher than any asset class out there. While the structural bull market will ensure a more accommodating market, the access of which memecoins can be created ensures that the odds are stacked for the average trader who does not have access to the Cabals. The lack of a product means that laymen would not have something to find solace in, resulting in more paperhands. To that end, memecoin "cults" are generally vapor-like, appearing in bursts and disappearing with market whims.
While they serve as fascinating case studies in virality, most memecoins ultimately lack the resilience to thrive without stronger foundations. Their ability to form and dissolve so quickly highlights both the power and fragility of modern financial dynamics that rely solely on late-stage capitalism.
The Godhead of late-stage capitalism
In the twilight of religion, as Nietzsche's prophecy unfolds, humanity finds itself forging new paths to meaning, belonging, and purpose. The decline of traditional religious structures, once the pillars of morality and community, has paved the way for a wide range of modern new-age cults — some spiritual, some material, and others entirely digital. While consumerism, fitness, and fandoms have evolved to meet these needs, perhaps no modern development mirrors religious devotion as closely as the rise of crypto cults.
At the heart of these communities is a longing for identity and purpose. In a world where traditional structures are eroding, crypto offers a new way to belong to something greater than oneself. However, while some of these communities build lasting legacies, others flicker out without the foundation to sustain them. As the world of crypto continues to grow, the interplay of belief, community, and technology will undoubtedly shape the next wave of these digital cults. Just as religion once shaped human society, crypto cults are beginning to form the cultural fabric of our digital future as we live. In many ways, these cults are the deification of capital — divine in their narrative, omnipresent in ecosystems, and binding their followers through shared rituals.
The question however remains: will humanity's new digital cults offer the same solace and structure as the theocracy of yore, or are we destined to wander through transient, self-constructed realities? As the line between technology, economy, and spirituality blurs, the answer may lie in how we choose to navigate these new belief systems — with reverence, curiosity, or caution.