So strong—CZ goes from an iron cell to freedom, summed up in 14 words for this life: “I did my best this life—I just want to be remembered as the guy who works in crypto.”
He invested $500 million to have Musk buy Twitter. The two of them chatted about a dozen messages in total and never met. CZ said people with aligned philosophies don’t need to arrange a meeting—this logic also makes sense in ordinary relationships.
The prison part is the most real. His lawyer warned him he would become “the richest person ever to be imprisoned,” and he would most likely be extorted. After he went in, he was assigned to the Pacific Islander group. In a unit of 200 people, the only Asians were him and another person with mixed heritage; the remaining 80% were Mexican drug lords. One prison guard privately asked him whether he should buy Bitcoin now.
The hardest part isn’t the days inside—it’s the uncertainty. No one tells you when you’ll get out, whether new charges will be added, and in a prison system with 53 sets of rules, every rule is different. This kind of unknown is more tormenting than being physically locked up.
After he got out, he donated $2 million to prison education institutions. The reason was that he encountered a drug dealer who was sentenced to 45 years, served 26 years, and after release founded an organization that sends books and teaches skills to fellow inmates. CZ said that even if someone has truly made mistakes, after serving their sentence they should be helped to reintegrate into society—otherwise, once they’re out, they still endanger society.
About the news that Saylor sold 32 BTC and the market dropped, CZ said Saylor had nearly a million BTC in hand, so selling 32 BTC to pay dividends was completely normal— the market is just too sensitive. Regarding STRC, he said frankly he tried several times but couldn’t figure it out, so he wouldn’t comment. These two answers are the most human parts of the entire interview.
His attitude toward Hyperliquid is the most subtle: regulatory risk is much bigger than it was back when Binance existed. As a Binance shareholder, he absolutely opposes this approach, but deep down he hopes it can succeed—if the model “users’ assets are stored in smart contracts” is deemed to be decentralized, it’s good news for the whole industry.
Now he divides his time into four parts, each taking one quarter: free education at Giggle Academy, investment via YZi Labs, regulatory consulting for governments in various countries, and helping crypto entrepreneurs. He went from working 20 hours a day to this schedule, and he says he’s very satisfied.
“The guy who does crypto”—more plain, more self-consistent than “the founder of Binance,” more restrained than “the world’s richest man,” and a bit more self-consistent than “someone who went to prison.”
Do you think CZ made it all the way in this lifetime, or is there still one thing he hasn’t finished doing? @CZ $BNB
He invested $500 million to have Musk buy Twitter. The two of them chatted about a dozen messages in total and never met. CZ said people with aligned philosophies don’t need to arrange a meeting—this logic also makes sense in ordinary relationships.
The prison part is the most real. His lawyer warned him he would become “the richest person ever to be imprisoned,” and he would most likely be extorted. After he went in, he was assigned to the Pacific Islander group. In a unit of 200 people, the only Asians were him and another person with mixed heritage; the remaining 80% were Mexican drug lords. One prison guard privately asked him whether he should buy Bitcoin now.
The hardest part isn’t the days inside—it’s the uncertainty. No one tells you when you’ll get out, whether new charges will be added, and in a prison system with 53 sets of rules, every rule is different. This kind of unknown is more tormenting than being physically locked up.
After he got out, he donated $2 million to prison education institutions. The reason was that he encountered a drug dealer who was sentenced to 45 years, served 26 years, and after release founded an organization that sends books and teaches skills to fellow inmates. CZ said that even if someone has truly made mistakes, after serving their sentence they should be helped to reintegrate into society—otherwise, once they’re out, they still endanger society.
About the news that Saylor sold 32 BTC and the market dropped, CZ said Saylor had nearly a million BTC in hand, so selling 32 BTC to pay dividends was completely normal— the market is just too sensitive. Regarding STRC, he said frankly he tried several times but couldn’t figure it out, so he wouldn’t comment. These two answers are the most human parts of the entire interview.
His attitude toward Hyperliquid is the most subtle: regulatory risk is much bigger than it was back when Binance existed. As a Binance shareholder, he absolutely opposes this approach, but deep down he hopes it can succeed—if the model “users’ assets are stored in smart contracts” is deemed to be decentralized, it’s good news for the whole industry.
Now he divides his time into four parts, each taking one quarter: free education at Giggle Academy, investment via YZi Labs, regulatory consulting for governments in various countries, and helping crypto entrepreneurs. He went from working 20 hours a day to this schedule, and he says he’s very satisfied.
“The guy who does crypto”—more plain, more self-consistent than “the founder of Binance,” more restrained than “the world’s richest man,” and a bit more self-consistent than “someone who went to prison.”
Do you think CZ made it all the way in this lifetime, or is there still one thing he hasn’t finished doing? @CZ $BNB