Last week I visited an old watchmaker. The shop was dim, quiet, almost frozen in time. I stood there watching him work on a mechanical watch from the 1950s, using tweezers so small they looked unreal. At one point he smiled and said something that hasn’t left my mind since:
“This watch isn’t valuable because the parts are expensive. It’s valuable because seventy years of life are written into the wear of these gears. A new watch has precision. An old watch has a soul.”
When I walked out, I couldn’t stop thinking about today’s tech world especially AI and blockchain. We’re obsessed with speed: instant answers, instant settlements, instant resets. Every second is treated like a clean slate. But this obsession with being stateless is slowly killing depth. It’s turning AI into something strange: extremely smart, yet strangely hollow. Like high-IQ infants impressive for a moment, then forgetting everything right after.
That’s the problem. Most AI agents today are fireworks. One second of brilliance, two seconds of amnesia. You can have a deep conversation, let it manage a task, even trust it with something important — and the moment the session ends, everything it learned disappears. In 2026, this is becoming an invisible but very real intelligence tax. Be honest: would you trust an agent with your assets or legal contracts if it only remembered the last seven seconds?
The shift from instant intelligence to time leverage
This is why I’ve been paying close attention to Vanar. Recently, they’ve poured their focus into the Neutron API and something much deeper: intelligence continuity. They understand what many still don’t the next phase of AI isn’t about bigger models or more parameters. It’s about giving intelligence the ability to compound over time.
Right now, most public chains are stateless by design. That works for transfers, but for AI it’s a cage. If an agent can’t remember losing money last week, can’t build a personal history, can’t evolve from its own mistakes, it will never be more than a smart toy. What Vanar is building isn’t just another L1. It’s more like an immutable experience chamber, where every action leaves a trace and every decision adds weight. That’s how AI turns from a cost into an asset.
What the $650 billion really means
When people see companies like OpenAI, Google, and others spending hundreds of billions, they assume it’s all about GPUs and data centers. I see something else. This level of spending signals a transition: AI is no longer experimental — it’s becoming foundational.
And when something becomes foundational, tolerance for failure drops to near zero. Enterprises don’t care about flashy demos. They care about reliability. Real reliability only comes from two things: verifiable history and continuous state. That’s exactly where Vanar fits. A neutral, verifiable memory layer at the protocol level isn’t a bonus anymore — it’s the minimum requirement for AI to operate in the real economy.
The quiet lesson of a $0.006 price
Now let’s look at the uncomfortable reality. Powerpei is trading around 0.0061–0.0063. Daily volume is tiny. Market cap is barely $14 million. Compared to AI meme tokens worth hundreds of millions, it looks almost embarrassing.
But sometimes silence is more interesting than noise. This kind of emptiness usually means the market hasn’t caught up cognitively. Most people still buy faces and slogans. Very few are thinking about memory, context, and time. I actually like this slow, boring phase. It shakes out impatient money and leaves behind people who can wait.
Vanar’s approach feels like “moving slow on purpose.” While others race for attention, they’re fixing the part no one sees the cerebral cortex. When the market finally realizes that agents without memory can’t do serious work, projects like this won’t stay ignored.
Yes, the risks are real. The tech cycle is long. Mainnet execution still has to prove itself. Nothing here is guaranteed. But from where I’m standing, I’m willing to bet on this anti-efficiency, time-heavy philosophy.
In a world obsessed with building faster and faster supercars, choosing to build a better fuel tank something that lets the machine carry its soul farther feels like a quiet kind of wisdom.
