"One of the most frequent questions
asked by crypto skeptics is: What can you actually do with crypto,
besides financial speculation and crimes?
It’s a tough question to answer, in
part because most of the successful (and legal) uses of cryptocurrency so far
have been in finance or finance-adjacent fields. There are plenty of crypto
exchanges, NFT trading platforms and video games that involve buying and
selling crypto tokens. But so far, not many crypto projects have had what I’d
call “normie utility” — solving problems that exist for people outside the
crypto world, that aren’t primarily about buying or selling digital assets and
that would be impossible to solve with normal, non-crypto technology.
Recently, though, I discovered one
that does.
It’s called Helium. And while it’s not the most attention-grabbing crypto
project out there — no cartoon apes or copies of the Constitution are
involved — trying it out has helped me understand how crypto can be quite
useful in solving certain types of problems.
On a basic level, Helium is a
decentralized wireless network for “internet of things” devices, powered by
cryptocurrency.
The network is made up of devices
called Helium hot spots, gadgets with antennas that can send small amounts of
data over long distances using radio frequencies. These hot spots, which cost
roughly $500 apiece and can reach 200 times farther than conventional Wi-Fi hot
spots, share their owners’ bandwidth with nearby internet-connected devices —
like parking meters, air-quality sensors or smart kitchen appliances.
Anyone can use the Helium network,
although most of its users so far are companies like Lime (which has used
Helium to keep tabs on its connected scooters) and the Victor mousetrap company
(which uses it for a new line of internet-connected traps). More than 500,000
Helium hot spots are in use around the world, with thousands being added to the
network every day.
Here’s where the crypto part comes
in: In addition to transmitting data, Helium hot spots reward their owners for
participating in the network by creating units of a cryptocurrency called $HNT.
These tokens can be bought and sold on the open market like any other
cryptocurrency, and the more a hot spot is used, the more $HNT tokens it
generates.
Helium, which was founded in 2013,
didn’t start off as a crypto company. Its founders originally tried to build a
long-range, peer-to-peer wireless network the old-fashioned way — by persuading
people and businesses to set up hot spots and stringing them together. But they
struggled to get enough participants, and the network stalled.
Frank Mong, Helium’s chief operating
officer, told me that the company was running out of money in 2017 when an
engineer suggested, during an all-hands Scotch-drinking session, that more
people might be willing to set up hot spots if they could earn cryptocurrency
by doing it.
“That incentive model, powered by
crypto, actually made sense in this case,” Mr. Mong said.
So the company tore up its old
business model and settled on a new one. Instead of building its network
itself, Helium would make it fully decentralized and let users build it
themselves by buying and connecting their own hot spots. Participants would be
paid in crypto tokens, and they’d get to vote on proposed ideas for changes to
the network. If the price of those tokens rose, they’d make even more money,
and set up even more hot spots.
The new model, which was released in
2019, worked like a charm. Crypto fans raced to set up Helium hot spots and
start generating crypto tokens. They traded tips on Reddit and YouTube for
increasing the range of their hot spots, by attaching them to tall buildings or
putting antennas on their roofs. Some hot spot owners claim to have made thousands of dollars a month
this way, although earnings have fallen as more hot spots have been added to
the network.
This, I’ve learned, is one of
crypto’s superpowers — the ability to kick-start projects by providing an
incentive to get in on the ground floor. Not everything could be improved by
attaching itself to a cryptocurrency mining scheme. But in Helium’s case,
crypto made sense as a way to encourage participation and give hot spot owners
the satisfaction of building something they owned.
Arman Dezfuli-Arjomandi, a computer
programmer in Philadelphia who hosts a podcast about Helium, told me that the
network’s decentralization was the biggest selling point.
“If this network was built on some
centralized platform, there’s always the chance that the platform I.P.O.s or
they get acquired, and suddenly this whole physical infrastructure that was
built by loads of people is at the whims of whichever company owns it,” he
said.
I can find a lot to like about
Helium. Unlike many crypto projects, it’s a real product used by real people
and companies every day. The people involved in it aren’t brazen speculators,
and most appear to be genuinely interested in creating a decentralized wireless
network. (A cardinal rule of Helium’s 140,000-member Discord chat server is
that you’re not allowed to discuss token prices.) And it’s going to become more
useful in the coming months, as new kinds of 5G hot spots make it possible to
send data over the network at higher speeds.
In addition, Helium’s blockchain is
secured with a type of algorithm known as “proof of coverage,” which requires
much less energy than the “proof of work” algorithms used by Bitcoin and other
cryptocurrencies and is significantly less harmful to the environment. (Helium
says its hot spots use about the same amount of energy as a 5-watt light bulb.)
Just to make sure I’m not being
bamboozled here, let’s put Helium through my normie-utility test.
Does it solve a non-crypto problem?
Yes. There are millions of connected devices in the world, and connecting these
devices to the Helium network is significantly cheaper than buying a cellular
data plan for each device. Because of the hot spots’ long range, Helium’s
network can also reach places that typical Wi-Fi and cellular networks don’t.
Is it useful for something other
than speculation? Also yes. The Helium network itself has value, and although
hot spot owners can (and do) profit when the price of $HNT rises, the main way
they’re making money is by adding new hot spots, not by day-trading $HNT tokens
on a crypto exchange.
Could Helium have worked without
crypto technology? Not really. The company tried the non-crypto approach, and
it nearly went bankrupt. But adding tokens to the mix solved what technologists
call the “cold start problem” — the fact that attracting the first users to a
new network is often hard, because the network isn’t very valuable yet.
Helium isn’t perfect. Like many
crypto projects, it exists in a regulatory gray area, and users could be in for
a shock if Washington decides to crack down. (Federal regulators have suggested
that lots of crypto tokens may qualify as securities, which could make Helium
hot spot owners subject to all kinds of thorny securities laws.) And right now,
most hot spots are in high-density cities, making it
less useful to people in more remote areas.
Putting a Helium hot spot in your
house might also technically violate your internet service provider’s terms of
service, since it involves reselling a portion of your bandwidth. The terms of
service for Comcast Xfinity subscribers, for example, prohibit using your
connection “for any purpose other than personal and noncommercial residential
use.” So far, internet service providers haven’t cracked down on Helium users
en masse, but that could change.
“We are hopeful that the I.S.P.s are
open-minded to exploring what Helium’s all about,” Mr. Mong of Helium told me.
What I like about Helium, despite
these limitations, is that it has largely avoided the hype and inflated claims
that surround many crypto projects. It’s not promising to revolutionize
commerce and culture, to deliver us from government censorship or to change the
fabric of our daily lives.
It’s
just a useful piece of real-world infrastructure, attached to a crypto-mining
scheme that allows the whole thing to work without a big company standing in
the middle.
I’ve been testing out a Helium miner
in my home office for about a week. It’s a gold-colored box, about the size of
a thick deck of cards, with a long antenna on top. In the first few days after
I plugged it into my Wi-Fi router, it generated about $7 worth of $HNT — not a
huge sum, but enough that if I left it running for a few months, I could pay
back the cost of the device. (I’ll be sending the device back to Helium, and
discarding whatever tokens I generate.)
Participating in the Helium network,
even in such a small way, feels good. I’m earning a little bit of money, while
enabling devices in my neighborhood to connect more cheaply to the internet.
I’m sticking it to the man, in the
most mundane and low-stakes way possible. And after a few days, I understood
the emotional appeal of other crypto-powered schemes, which reward you for
taking a chance on something new and unproven.
I’m not going to get rich off Helium
tokens. But not every crypto project needs to be a lottery ticket in disguise.
Maybe, for some, being useful is enough."