On a visit in September last year to Jakarta I met a wonderful young artist who is making waves – Anya. She’s super talented, creating these moody, almost ethereal digital art works based on Indonesian myth. Anya put everything that she had into her art, and she was reaching a breaking point. There was no market for her work. Galleries didn’t want it, commissions were hard to come by, and she was about to quit. Then, she discovered Pump.fun.
Now, suddenly, Anya had a means to directly reach people who loved her work. She released an NFT with her artwork. Her intentions were to establish a collector community where fans could financially support her art in exchange for members-only behind-the-scenes content and early looks at new works. It seemed revolutionary, a tool to escape the gatekeepers’ clutches and create her own ecosystem.
Anya’s tale ended in tragedy. The result, within days, was bots targeting her new token and manipulating its price. The community she had fought so hard to create was soon flooded with speculators. Anya had lost hundreds of thousands of dollars, her confidence in the crypto ecosystem broken.
Pump.fun markets itself as a democratizing force. On the face of it, that sounds like it would be true. Almost anybody can come up with a flashy idea about a new token, release it into the wild, and muster a community through various marketing gimmicks. For artists located across Southeast Asia, where traditional funding avenues are as elusive as they’re competitive, this appeal is amplified tenfold. It offers the fake dream of financial freedom and creative autonomy.
It's undeniably alluring. The platform’s user friendly nature is one of the biggest attractions. Forget about complicated smart contracts and code requirements—you don’t even need a developer to create your own token in just a few clicks. It was this lowered barrier to entry that inadvertently led to the meme coin explosion. Speculators are racing after the get rich quick scheme that these coins provide. What’s more, Pump.fun has already produced nearly $700 million in revenue—perhaps the strongest indicator of just how popular this tool is.
Let's be brutally honest: Pump.fun feels less like a platform for artistic expression and more like a digital casino, preying on the dreams and desperation of artists like Anya. The numbers don't lie: a staggering 98.6% of tokens launched on the platform are scams. Ninety-eight point six percent! That’s not democratization, that’s industrial scale exploitation.
We’ve also been constantly told that Web3 was going to enable a new era of creators. So is Pump.fun actually living up to that promise? Or is it just the latest shiny object keeping us from focusing on the hard stuff that really matters? It reminds me of fast fashion. It feels democratizing and gives everybody the opportunity to build a wardrobe that tells their story. Yet behind the scenes, it’s propped up by the sweat of exploited workers and environmental destruction. Is Pump.fun the fast fashion of crypto?
The platform’s bonding curve mechanism, which dynamically determines token prices through supply and demand, introduces an additional layer of risk. The crude liquidity approach Ethereum pioneered has proven dangerous. Fast liquidity is available, but so too is extreme volatility. Such volatility allows many whales and bots to easily manipulate prices, exposing unwitting investors. Artists are especially guilty of not understanding the complexity of these systems and are at risk of rug pulls.
As an environmental justice advocate, I have witnessed how easily marginalized communities are used as test subjects for so-called cutting-edge technology. We should be critical of platforms like Pump.fun and hold the Web3 space to higher standards.
Pump.fun may seem like the daffiest, happiest new social network but behind its high scam rate and exploitative nature lies a dark reality. As artists and developers alike, it’s up to us to create a more equitable and sustainable Web3 ecosystem. Let’s not allow the hope of democratization to be buried beneath the realization of a digital casino. Let’s create a new system, one that meaningfully empowers artists and creators. On the heels of this legislation, it’s time to insist upon Better, to construct Better and to BE Better. The future of Web3 depends on it.
Beyond the Hype: What Can We Do?
As a community activist, I've seen firsthand how vulnerable communities can be exploited by seemingly innovative technologies. We need to be critical of platforms like Pump.fun and demand more from the Web3 space.
Here's what we need:
- Education: Artists need access to financial literacy resources to help them navigate the risks of the crypto market.
- Ethical Platforms: Developers need to prioritize building platforms that are transparent, secure, and designed to protect users from scams.
- Community Support: We need to foster communities that value long-term sustainability over short-term gains.
Pump.fun might appear like a revolutionary platform, but its high scam rate and exploitative practices paint a grim picture. As artists and developers, we have a responsibility to build a more equitable and sustainable Web3 ecosystem. Let's not let the promise of democratization be overshadowed by the reality of a digital casino. Let’s build something better, something that actually empowers artists and creators. It's time to demand better, to build better, and to be better. The future of Web3 depends on it.
