I keep coming back to one word in all of this: programmable.

When Congress passed the GENIUS Act, it laid the groundwork for a digital version of the dollar. And the thing nobody wants to say out loud is what "programmable" actually means.

It means money with rules written into it. Money that can be watched. Money that can be paused, taxed at the point of sale, or simply switched off — by someone you'll never meet, for a reason you may never be told.

If money can be programmed, then a switch exists.

And here's the part that keeps me up: I've never once seen a switch sit there unused. Not in my whole life. The moment the capability is built, somebody eventually decides the moment is right to use it — "just this once," "just for emergencies," "just for the bad guys." Then it's a Tuesday.

I'm not telling you to panic. I'm telling you to ask a calm question: what do I own that has no switch?

The answer, for me, is anything that exists outside the system entirely. Real, physical assets they can't freeze, can't reprogram, and can't quietly delete from a screen.

The switch may never get flipped. But I'd rather not be standing next to it the day it does.