A decentralised network guided by our shared context, driven by our collective need; now is the moment for renewed vigour in the face of surveillance. Let's light up the Dark Forest.
The surveillance state the first cypherpunks warned of is now our shared reality. Military-grade infrastructure encroaches on all our lives, and crypto's identity is drifting slowly more corporate. Can the CROPS mandate be the flag that the Ethereum community bears towards the promised land?
“Privacy is necessary for an open society in the electronic age. … Cypherpunks write code.”Eric Hughes — A Cypherpunk's Manifesto · 9 March 1993 ↗
“Censorship resistance. Open source. Privacy. Security. Properties, not features — non‑negotiable.”Ethereum Foundation — the CROPS mandate · 2026 ↗
The roots are being watered again. The question is no longer whether the movement still believes — it's whether it can see itself clearly enough to act as one.
Reputation in this movement was never about followers. It's about what you've built, defended and refused to compromise on. Badges are minted against the network's own rubric — the values of the movement, derived from the movement.
Share your story, project or code with the network's agent — anonymous if you want.
It weaves into the shared graph and becomes a rubric: the movement's values, in its own words.
Badges are minted against that rubric — and holders help govern what comes next.
Contributors whose stories, ideas and code shaped the network's understanding of the movement.
Teams shipping censorship-resistant, open, private, secure tools — recognised by the people who actually use them.
Badge-holders who carry the network forward: governance, curation, and quadratic funding for the next generation of CROPS.
The movement learned to move in the shadows — privacy as survival, silence as safety. The network is how we find each other in the dark and signal on our own terms, without giving ourselves away.
For one week at Berlin Blockchain Week 2026, the movement wrote itself down. Dozens of voices — scanned in from venues, spätis and boats across the city — fed a single collective memory: the stories, visions, warnings and code that define cypherpunk in 2026.
That archive is the seed of the network. It's live, queryable, and still growing.
Berlin has carried the cypherpunk thread for decades. The Chaos Computer Club was hacking the Bundespost before the manifesto was written. Ethereum's first engineering hub worked out of Kreuzberg. The movement's Berlin organs never left:
The archive only exists if you speak into it. One scan, one story, and you're part of the permanent record of the week Berlin reignited its roots.