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The United States — this beacon of financial freedom that, after years of fighting between agencies and congressmen in search of headlines, finally illuminated the path with the GENIUS Act. A name as modest as the ambition to regulate something that, until yesterday, seemed more nebulous than the balance sheet of a crypto bank.
Now, payment stablecoins gain their own status, neither securities nor commodities — a rare kind of digital citizen with regulatory CPF. Congress, in a flash of lucidity or desperation, finally decided that tokenized dollars deserve a legal home. The market applauds, lawyers salivate, and the taxpayer, this unwitting spectator, watches the play without knowing if the act is a comedy, tragedy, or pure American genius.

Davos concluded its 56th Annual Meeting on January 23 with a twist worthy of a global political comedy script. The once temple of the 'Green Deal' turned into an informal symposium praising fossil fuels — because, apparently, the future is made of oil and irony. Donald Trump stole the show (or the spectacle), mocking European wind turbines — 'spinning failures' — and proclaiming that American gas and oil are the true stars of modern sustainability. Amid discreet applause and incredulous glances, the former president basically renamed the World Economic Forum to 'International Hydrocarbon Club.'

We live in a statistical illusion. For billions, the calm between superpowers is the norm of civilization. Geopolitics, however, whispers an uncomfortable truth: this is a historical anomaly.
Eighty years ago, great nations have avoided direct wars — the longest interval since Rome. It was no coincidence, but post-trauma engineering: leaders, haunted by two world wars, erected barriers against the unthinkable. The risk? This triumph blinded us, paving the way for our ruin.

Artificial intelligence paraded in Davos like the tragic diva everyone pretends to love — in the 56th staging of the World Economic Forum, global titans unleashed the rehearsed lament, "Distribute the tech goodies, or the abyss of inequality turns into an eternal carnival." Larry Fink, the oracle of BlackRock, stole the prologue with his phony prophecy, the "insane growth of AI" will shred blue-collar workers and white-collar jobs, a cheap imitation of the globalizing massacre in the blue-collar sector. "Face it, brave ones!", he posed, while sweeping the bubble thesis away with a mockery: "Fiascos? Yes. Foam? A loser’s dream."

Economic history does not forgive eternity. Since the Florentine florin of 1250, monetary standards have risen and fallen in cycles of about a century; the Venetian ducat, the Portuguese real, the Dutch florin, the French pound, and finally, the British pound have given way to the American dollar. Now, after decades of reign, Uncle Sam watches his accelerated decline — not a dramatic collapse, but a subtle erosion, like an empire that spends its glory on endless parties.
In the last five years, the dollar has lost its absolute throne in the global financial system. International reserves tell the story: in 1999, it dominated 70%; by October 2025, it barely exceeds 57%. The euro, the dreamed successor, is stuck at 20%, held hostage by European geopolitics. No national currency — yuan, yen, or pound — has the confidence to inherit the scepter alone. It's the analysts' trick; they forget the asset that devours the power of fiat money.