Today, I bought a mirror.
It cost $200. Not bad for a mirror, especially one this big.
How big? Well, I’m not sure exactly. Maybe 20 feet high? Maybe 200 feet high?
Truth is, I can’t see the mirror I bought, because it doesn’t exist in this universe.
It’s in the metaverse.
And, unfortunately, I can’t get there to go take a look.
I’ll explain... but before I do, let’s talk about NFTs.
Disclaimer: This is not investment advice. Tangled Web is about tech, not investment. It’s for information purposes only and you should not base any investment decisions on it. Do your own research.
NFTs
If you subscribed to the Tangled Web newsletter, podcast or channel, you knew that sooner or later I’d get to NFTs.
Yep, NFTs: probably the most arcanely-named tech innovation ever.
NFT stands for Non-Fungible Token, but let’s not start there.
Let’s start with proof of ownership.
How do I prove that I own what I own?
I have a small, metal disk in my pocket with a loon engraved in it. (A loon, for the non-ornothologically-minded, is an aquatic bird, a bit like a duck but in black and white.)
This small, metal disk is proof that I own one Canadian dollar.
It’s not worth a dollar in itself: the six-and-a-quarter grams of brass-plated steel in the loonie, as the coin is affectionately known, is only worth a few cents.
Rather, it’s a token that everyone agrees is worth a dollar, because, well, the government of Canada says so.
I also have a piece of paper in my files with a map of a plot of land printed on it.
This piece of paper is proof that I own that plot of land and the house that’s built on it.
Again, the piece of paper is not worth anything in itself.
Rather, it’s a token that everyone agrees is proof of ownership of my house, because, well, the government of Canada says so.
The F-word
This is all pretty straightforward, right? OK, well let me complicate things by dropping the F-word.
That coin in my pocket? It’s fungible.
All that means is that the Canadian dollar it represents is the same as any other Canadian dollar.
When I buy something in a store, the store-owner doesn’t care which Canadian dollar I use to pay for it. One loonie is as good as any other loonie. (Actually, that’s not quite true, newer loonies are a much shinier gold colour than the ones that have been in circulation a while. I care about this, but, happily, the store-owner doesn’t.)
The piece of paper that proves that I own my house, on the other hand, is non-fungible.
The house it represents is not the same as any other house. There are some pretty run-down houses in my neighbourhood. I’d be a bit pissed off if I found that the piece of paper in my files represents ownership of some other house, rather than the unique, one-of-a-kind house I’m sitting in right now.
And that’s it.
I’ve described what a token is: it’s something that represents ownership.
And I’ve described what non-fungible means: it means that the thing is unique, one-of-a-kind.
So now you know what a Non-Fungible Token is, right?
Enter the blockchain
A token doesn’t have to be printed onto paper or engraved into a small, metal disk.
It can be stored as information on a computer, too.
I hate to shatter your illusions, but when you go online and find that you have $200 in your bank account, that doesn’t mean that there are 200 loonies in the vault of your local bank, stored specifically for you.
The dollars in your account are just tokens, stored as information on the bank’s computer.
And a token doesn’t have to be on a computer that belongs to a bank. It can be stored on many computers all over the world, on a blockchain that belongs to no one.
That’s what Bitcoin is: it’s a fungible token that’s stored on a blockchain; fungible meaning that any one bitcoin is the same as any other bitcoin.
A blockchain, by the way, is just a secure way to store information. It’s probably more secure than the information on your bank’s computer, precisely because it’s not on any one computer, but on many computers all over the world.
And Bitcoin, just like the small, metal disk in my pocket, is a token that everyone agrees is worth something, because, well, everyone agrees it’s worth something. Turns out that there’s no need for the say-so of the government of Canada.
Back to NFTs
OK, so we’re there at last.
An NFT is a non-fungible token that’s stored on a blockchain.
It’s a token in that it represents ownership of something: a pixelated picture of a punk, for example, or a mirror in the metaverse.
And it’s non-fungible in that the thing is unique, one-of-a-kind: a unique, one-of-a-kind picture of a punk; a unique, one-of-a-kind mirror.
Today, when I bought that mirror in the metaverse, a token representing my ownership of it was written to a blockchain. As long as I alone have the password, I can prove that I own it, and no one can take it away from me.
That token is non-fungible. There are 8,888 of these mirrors, but no two of them are the same. My mirror is unique, one-of-a-kind.
I know what you’re thinking.
You understand why I might buy a house in the universe. I can live in a house.
What you don’t understand is why I would buy a mirror in the metaverse. What can I do with such a mirage?
It doesn’t have to be real to be real
Well, I can look at it. These mirrors, designed by J. Demsky, are like none you’ve ever seen. You can check them out at Anima.
And it’s not just in the metaverse that I can look at my mirror. I can pull it out of the metaverse and superimpose it on the universe. Looking through my phone or through VR (virtual reality) goggles, I can see my mirror in AR (augmented reality), as if it had materialized in the real world. Again, you can check this out at Anima.
I can contribute to the evolution of these mirrors by visiting a series of GPS coordinates around the world. These coordinates have yet to be revealed, and I doubt that any of them will be inside my house, and various governments, including the aforementioned government of Canada, have made it difficult to go far from my house in the last couple of years, so we’ll see how that goes. Still, I like the idea of taking part in a mysterious collective creation.
If you think that no one in their right mind would pay $200 for something they can’t do anything with – other than look at it, superimpose it on their environment, share the experience with others, use it to explore the world – let me ask you:
Has anyone ever paid $200 for a painting? You can’t do anything with a Picasso – other than look at it, hang it in your house to superimpose it on your environment, or hang it in a gallery to share with others – but the answer is yes. Someone once paid close to $200 million for a Picasso.
Has anyone ever paid $200 to be at a football match? You can’t do anything with an England v Germany fixture – other than travel around the world to watch, in a stadium with tens of thousands of others, millions more watching remotely, as the team you’ve supported for decades achieves an improbable victory – but again, the answer is yes. Innumerable people have paid $200 for a ticket to an England v Germany football match.
If you think that art and experiences aren’t worth paying money for, then, well, I’m guessing you’ve never bought a painting or been to a football match.
And if you think that art isn’t art unless it’s on a canvas, and experiences aren’t experiences unless they’re in the real world, then I’m guessing you’ve never looked at a Picasso on your phone or watched England v Germany on your computer.
Entry denied
I’ll let you know how it goes with my mirror.
So far, not so well.
When I tried to look at the mirrors in AR on my phone, a pop-up informed me that I’d have to upgrade to a new operating system to do so.
Many hours later, after I’d installed the new operating system, another pop-up informed me that I’d have to upgrade to a new phone to see the mirrors.
I’d hoped that this mirror might be my passport to the metaverse, but in the event I was turned back at the border.