What makes the entire “quantum Jenga” narrative fall apart is something so simple it’s almost embarrassing: there is no way to verify the threat. If a quantum attacker spent coins, the network would only see a valid spend. There is no signature flag, no distinguishing trace, no diagnostic footprint. The supposed attack is epistemically identical to a normal transaction. That means the entire narrative rests not on verification, but exclusively on fear and trust in anonymous authority. The question then becomes: should Bitcoiners abandon the principle “don’t trust, verify” precisely at the moment it matters most? That would be the real attack; not cryptographic compromise, but moral compromise.
What gives this narrative its psychological bite is that it asks people to act based on a claim that can never be proved and never be falsified. It is the exact structure of fiat, action induced by narrative rather than measurable reality. The irony is painful: Bitcoiners who reject fractional-reserve money for being ontologically unsound now fear a computational threat built on fractionally reserved physics. Modern quantum theory treats unmeasured potential as if it were real substrate, as if one physical state can be “double-spent” across many simultaneous configurations until a mysterious “measurement” collapses it. This is the same fallacy as fractional-reserve banking: mistaking represented potential for conserved reality. Bitcoin was built to expose this fallacy, not submit to it.
The only rational response is therefore to verify the physics, not the rumor. Bitcoin is the only open, measurable system on earth that lets you see the transformation of energy into irreversible information, the construction of time through conserved thermodynamic commitments. It is a sound physical system. Quantum computing, as advertised, is built on a theoretical substrate with undefined existence, undefined simultaneity, and no measurable grounding at Planck time. One worldview believes physics will be mastered in centralized laboratories, mediated by institutions, and dispensed to the public like a computational central bank of “quantum authority.” The other worldview (Bitcoin’s worldview) reveals that physics, at least at the level of entropy, information, and time, already exists in a decentralized, permissionless form that no authority can falsify. Fiat physics asks you to trust its amplitudes. Bitcoin asks you to verify its work.
Now to relate it to something you know quite well; Matthew 6:24 is one of the very few moments Jesus directly contrasts God with anything else, and the thing He chose was money. That alone should make us pause. If we misunderstand what money is, then we misunderstand the rival master Jesus is warning about. For all of human history, we have only ever known false money; debt-issued, manipulable, coercive, created from nothing. If Jesus is drawing a line between God and money, then the nature of money is not a side issue: it is central to the moral architecture of reality.
And here we are, at the first moment in history where something like sound money, incorruptible, finite, verifiable actually exists. Bitcoin shows that perfect money is not metaphorical; it is physics. It shows that value can be rooted in truth instead of decree, conservation instead of expansion, verification instead of trust. So when the quantum-threat narrative appears, framed in fear and unverifiable authority, we should recognize the pattern immediately: it is not physics attacking Bitcoin, it is the same old spiritual temptation wearing new technological clothing. You cannot serve two masters Gary. You either serve a system grounded in truth, or a system grounded in narrative. And right now, the narrative is trying to pry people away from the only monetary structure aligned with truth.
To make the point sharper, Jesus also said:
“Everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.” — Matthew 7:26
False money is and always has been sand. Bitcoin is the first monetary house built on rock. The quantum-fear narrative is an invitation to abandon the rock and return to the sand, but not by force, but by suggestion and fear.
When you see it through that lens, the real “quantum attack” isn’t cryptographic at all. It’s spiritual. It’s psychological. It’s epistemic. It’s an attempt to make people forget the only principle that made Bitcoin possible: don’t trust, verify. If evil ever wanted to compromise Bitcoin, it wouldn’t do it with a machine, it would do it with a story, whispered in the right moment, convincing people to surrender the very truth Bitcoin embodies.
Bitcoin is not broken.
