Now even faster speculation on art as an asset was possible. One could buy and flip NFTs several times a minute without worrying about annoying things like shipping and import tax. The NFT market could be much more responsive to—and expressive of—speculative demand. Seeking new crypto money, Christie’s and Sotheby’s cut all other legitimizing actors out of the loop with NFTs, elevating what might previously have been categorized as illustration, graphic art, or a social media meme to the status of fine art. The auction house endorsed the new asset form, and the asset’s price, in turn, made the institution appear responsive to an emergent cultural power. The tight loop between capital, asset issuing, and auction-as-legitimizing-engine echoed Polymarket’s recursive news-and-market-making cycle. […]

All crypto is literally new money—financial value that didn’t exist before Bitcoin. Legitimation of NFTs by blue-chip auction houses is a counter-elite victory over the cultural values embedded in the art assets previously sold off by auction houses, institutions that have not seriously courted new markets since their 1970s push to attract investors beyond a more traditional “connoisseur” class.

In war, it might seem as if wealthy states always benefit from new military capabilities. But the reality is more complicated. If a new system is expensive, it indeed favors rich incumbents. But if it is cheap and demands large organizational changes to adopt, other countries can take advantage just as quickly—if not faster. In fact, the most powerful militaries in the world often struggle in the face of required disruptive organizational change, as their prior success has created bureaucracies and organizational biases that make adaption harder. As a result, they have a hard time integrating new capabilities that cannot be plugged into their existing structures.

Precise mass is just such a capability. The most conventionally powerful militaries are organized around small numbers of exquisite, expensive, hard-to-produce weapons and platforms such as Tomahawk missiles and F-35s. Their units train and plan around these systems. They thus cannot easily adjust to precise mass capabilities, which require different kinds of training and entirely new conceptions of how to fight. Exquisite systems, for instance, are scarce, so units must take great care not to waste systems and to minimize the risk of destruction. With precise mass, by contrast, units are supposed to move quickly and not make the perfect the enemy of the good. This helps explain why the United States has struggled to adapt to precise mass—even though the country invented precision guidance and boasts the best military in the world.

The problem is not that the EU and its national governments are not doing enough to spur competitiveness. It is that they are doing too much to impede it. Through the slow accretion of layers of labor and tax policy, red tape, and technology regulation, they have erected barriers to the creation of the kind of large, vibrant startup ecosystem currently thriving in the United States. This ecosystem has been the cradle of many major innovative high-tech companies, as well as those sparking innovation and growth in other sectors. If the EU does not create the conditions for such companies to develop, then the bloc’s decline may become irreversible.