Spend Your Sats Let me start of by saying I’m someone who doesn’t spend his sats, well almost. I used to be reluctant in spending my sats ever since I understood Bitcoin. It was the better store of value, and my fiat was literally designed to decay in purchasing power—so of course I’d burn the weaker fuel first. Swipe the card, save the hard money. That felt rational, responsible, even principled. Until this one day where I could not pay with my card and had no other option than to use my Sats via a third party. I thought about it long and hard, and asked myself if I really need that product and the answer was yes, am I willing to pay sats for it, after a long thought provoking process, I said yes. Since then I set aside a very small fraction of my stack—think “rounding error” small—and allowed myself to spend it only on things I truly loved or absolutely needed. Over time, that tiny habit turned into a powerful filter. If I wouldn’t part with sats for it, maybe I didn’t value it as much as I told myself. And if I would, then it probably belonged in my life. This isn’t new. Historically, gold was saved for life’s most joyful or solemn occasions—weddings, heirlooms, temples. That pattern didn’t just show what a culture could afford; it revealed what it valued. In the same way, choosing to spend sats sparingly—and only on quality—writes a quiet rulebook for our personal economy. It teaches our habits, signals our standards, and builds a culture of trust around the things we bless with our hardest money. The constraint of hard money clarifies the mind. When fiat feels infinite (or at least leaky), it’s easy to buy marginal things, chasing short-term dopamine. But a “sats-worthy” standard slows you down, de-clutters decisions, and nudges you toward quality over quantity. You end up with fewer, better things—and more respect for the people who made them. How spending builds, a network of trust Money is a messaging protocol as much as it’s a medium of exchange. Spending sats says: • “I trust you.” You’ve delivered before, or your reputation precedes you. • “I want you to thrive.” I’m voting for your product to exist tomorrow. • “I value this.” And I’m willing to prove it. Over months and years, those signals stack. The coffee shop that nails consistency gets my morning routine. The developer whose tool saves me hours gets a tip. The craftsman who repairs, not replaces, becomes my first call. I’m not just exchanging value; I’m curating an economy I want to live in. That network becomes its own kind of insurance. When something breaks, I know who can fix it. When I need a recommendation, I have real names, not star-ratings. Trust compounds—and it started with a handful of deliberate purchases. The gold parallel, updated Gold’s cultural role wasn’t only about wealth preservation; it was about meaning. We used the hardest assets for the most meaningful moments, and that made those moments even more meaningful. Bitcoin can play a similar role, not as a nostalgia act, but as an upgrade: transferable at internet speed, natively global, programmable. When we reserve sats for what truly matters, we don’t just preserve value—we express it. We make visible the customs we want to see endure: craftsmanship, accountability, beauty, usefulness, hospitality, generosity. A culture is what it celebrates and what it funds. Sats let us make that visible. But isn’t saving the whole point? Saving is the point—and spending is how savings touch the real world. Refusing to ever spend sats can paradoxically make your values invisible. The goal isn’t to drain your stack; it’s to align the small fraction you do spend with the life and culture you want to build. Every sat is a vote. Cast a few, thoughtfully. A personal closing note I still default to spending fiat first. But I now treat sats as a lens, not a lockbox. The things that pass through that lens—those are the ones that truly matter to me. Over time, that practice has given me a clearer home, a tighter circle, better tools, and a kinder daily rhythm. It’s taught me to celebrate quality, not quantity; relationships, not transactions. So yes: save relentlessly. And sometimes, spend your sats. Not to consume more, but to reveal what you believe—and to strengthen the values you’d like to create in your circle, the society or the world.