@ AVBpodcast

"I tried pasting my login key into the text field, but no luck—it just wouldn't work. Turns out, the login field becomes completely unusable whenever the on-screen keyboard shows up on my phone. So either no one ever bothered to test this on a phone, or they did and thought, ‘Eh, who needs to actually log in anyway?’."

### \ \ Develop and evolve

Any technology or industry at the forefront of innovation faces the same struggle. Idealists, inventors, and early adopters jump in first, working to make things usable for the technical crowd. Only later do the products begin to take shape for the average user.

Bitcoin’s dropping the Ball on usability (and user-experience)

First, we have to acknowledge the progress we've made. Bitcoin has come a long way in terms of usability—no doubt about it. Even if I still think it’s bad, it’s nowhere near as terrible as it was ten or more years ago. The days of printing a paper wallet from some shady website and hoping it would still work months or years later are behind us. The days of buggy software never getting fixed are mostly over.

The Bitcoin technology itself made progress through many BIPs (Bitcoin Improvement Proposals) and combined with an increasing number of apps, devs, websites and related networks (Liquid, Lightning, Nostr, ....) we can say that we're seeing a strong ecosystem going its way. The ecosystem is alive and expanding, and technically, things are clearly working. The problem is that we’re still building with a mindset where developers and project managers consider usability—but don’t truly care about it in practice. They don’t lead with it. (Yes, there are always exceptions.)

All that progress looks cool, when you see the latest releases of hardware wallets, software wallets, exchanges, nostr clients and services built purely for bitcoin, you're usually thinking that we've progressed nicely. But I want to focus on the downside of all these shiny tools. Because if Bitcoin has made it this far, it’s mostly thanks to people who deeply understand its value and are stubborn enough to push through the friction. They don’t give up when the user experience sucks.

Many bitcoiners completely lost their perspective on the software front in my opinion. Because we could have been so much further ahead, and we didn't because some of the most important components on the user-facing side of Bitcoin (arguably the most important part) hasn’t kept pace with the popularity and possible growth. And that should be a great concern, because Bitcoin is meant to be open and accessible. The blockchain is public. This is supposed to be for everyone. This is an open ledger technology so in theory everything is user-facing to one extent or another. Yet we fail on that front to make the glue stick. Somewhere, we’re easily amused by the tools we create, and often contains hurdles we can’t see or feel. While users reject it after 5 seconds tops.

We didn’t came a lot further yet, because we’ve ignored usability at its core (pun intended).

I’m not talking about usability in the “it works on my machine” sense. I’m talking about usability that meets the standard of modern apps. Think Spotify, Instagram, Uber, Gmail. Products that ordinary people use without reading a manual or digging through forums.

That’s the bar. We’re still far from it.

Bad UX scares your grandma away

… and that’s how many bitcoiners apparently like it.

Subsequently, when I say usability, I’m using it as an umbrella term. For me, it covers user experience, user interface, and real-life, full-cycle testing—from onboarding a brand new user to rolling out a new version of the app. And oh boy, our onboarding is so horrible. (“Hey wanna try bitcoin? Here’s an app that takes up to 4 minutes or more to get though, but wait, you’ll have to install a plugin, or wait I’ll send you an on-chain transaction…)

Take a look at the listings on Bitvocation, an excellent job board for Bitcoiners and related projects. You’ll quickly notice a pattern: almost no companies are hiring software testers. It’s marketing, more marketing, some sales, and of course, full-stack developers. But … No testers.

Because testing has become something that’s often skipped or automated in a hurry. Maybe the devs run a test locally to confirm that the feature they just built doesn’t crash outright. That’s it. And if testing does happen at a company, it’s usually shallow—focused only on the top five percent of critical bugs. The finer points that shape real user experience, like button placement, navigation flow, and responsiveness, are dumped on “the community.”

Which leads to some software being rushed out to production, and only then do teams discover how many problems exist in the real world. If there’s anyone left to care that is, since most teams are scattered all over the world and get paid by the hour by some VC firm on a small runway to a launch date.

This has real life consequences I’ve seen for myself with new users. Like a lightning wallet having a +5 minute onboarding time, and a fat on-screen error for the new users, or a hardware wallet stuck in an endless upgrade loop, just because nobody tested it on a device that was “old” (as in, one year old).

The result is clear: usability and experience testing are so low on the priority list, they may as well not exist. And that’s tragic, because the enthusiasm of new users gets crushed the moment they run into what I call Linux’plaining.

That’s when something obvious fails — like a lookup command that’s copied straight from their own help documentation but doesn’t work — and the answer you get as a user is something like: “Yeah, but first you have to…” followed by an explanation that isn’t mentioned anywhere in the interface or documentation. You were just supposed to know. No one updates the documentation, and no one cares. As most of the projects are very temporary or don’t really care if it succeeds or not, because they’re bitcoiners and bitcoin always wins. Just like PGP always was super cool and good, and users should just be smarter.

Lessons from the past usability disasters

We can always learn from the past especially when its precedents are still echoing through the systems we use today

So here goes, some examples from the legacy / fiat industry:

Lotus Notes, for example. Once a titan in enterprise communication software, which managed to capture about 145 million mailboxes. But its downfall is an example of what happens when you ignore and keep ignoring real-life user needs and fail to evolve with the market. Software like that doesn’t just fade, it collapses under the weight of its own inertia and bloat. If you think bitcoin can’t have that, yes… we’re of course not having a competitor in the market (hard money is hard money, not a mailbox or office software provider of course). But we can erode trust to the extent that it becomes LotusNotes’d.

Its archaic 1990s interface came with clunky navigation and a chaotic document management system. Users got frustrated fast—basic tasks took too long. Picture this: you're stuck in a cubicle, trying to find the calendar function in Lotus Notes while a giant office printer hisses and spits out stacks of paper behind you. The platform never made the leap to modern expectations. It failed to deliver proper mobile clients and clung to outdated tech like LotusScript and the Domino architecture, which made it vulnerable to security issues and incompatible with the web standards of the time. By 2012, IBM pulled the plug on the Lotus brand, as businesses moved en masse to cloud-based alternatives.

Another kind of usability failure has plagued PGP1 (and still does so after 34 years). PGP (Pretty Good Privacy) is a time-tested and rock-solid method for encryption and key exchange, but it’s riddled with usability problems, especially for anyone who isn’t technically inclined.

Its very nature and complexity are already steep hurdles (and yes, you can’t make it fully easy without compromising how it’s supposed to work—granted). But the real problem? Almost zero effort has gone into giving even the most eager new users a manageable learning curve. That neglect slowly killed off any real user base—except for the hardcore encryption folks who already know what they’re doing.

Ask anyone in a shopping street or the historic center of your city if they’ve heard of PGP. And on the off chance someone knows it’s not a trendy new fast-food joint called “Perfectly Grilled Poultry,” the odds of them having actually used it in the past six months are basically zero, unless you happen to bump into that one neckbeard guy in his 60s wearing a stained Star Wars T-shirt named Leonard.

The builders of PGP made one major mistake: they never treated usability as a serious design goal (that’s normal for people knee deep in encryption, I get that, it’s the way it is). PGP is fantastic on itself. Other companies and projects tried to build around it, but while they stumbled, tools like Signal and ProtonMail stepped in; offering the same core features of encryption and secure messaging, minus the headache. They delivered what PGP never could: powerful functionality wrapped in something regular people can actually use. Now, we’ve got encrypted communication flowing through apps like Signal, where all the complex tech is buried so deep in the background, the average user doesn’t even realize it’s there. ProtonMail went one step further even, integrating PGP so cleanly that users never need to exchange keys or understand the cryptography behind it all, yet still benefit from bulletproof encryption.

There’s no debate—this shift is a good thing. History shows that unusable software fades into irrelevance. Whether due to lack of interest, failure to reach critical mass, or a competitor swooping in to eat market share, clunky tools don’t survive. Now, to be clear, Bitcoin doesn’t have to worry about that kind of threat. There’s no real competition when it comes to hard money. Unless, of course, you genuinely believe that flashy shitcoins are a viable alternative—in which case, you might as well stop reading here and go get yourself scammed on the latest Solana airdrop or whatever hype train’s leaving the station today for the degens.

The main takeaway here is that Bitcoin must avoid becoming the next Lotus Notes, bloated with features but neglected by users—or the next PGP, sidelined by its own lack of usability. That kind of trajectory would erode trust, especially if usability and onboarding keep falling behind. And honestly, we’re already seeing signs of this in bitcoin. User adoption in Europe, especially in countries like Germany is noticeably lagging. The introduction of the EU’s MiCA regulations isn’t helping either. Most of the companies that were actually pushing adoption are now either shutting down, leaving the EU, or jumping through creative loopholes just to stay alive. And the last thing on anyone’s mind is improving UX. It takes time, effort, and specialized people to seriously think through how to build this properly, from the beginning, with this ease of use and onboarding in mind. That’s a luxury most teams can’t or won’t prioritize right now. Understandably when the lack of funds is still a major issue within the bitcoin space. (for people sitting on hard money, there’s surprisingly little money flowing into useful projects that aren’t hyped up empty boxes)

The number of nodes being set up by end users worldwide isn’t exactly skyrocketing either. Sure, there’s some growth but let’s not overstate it. Based on Bitnodes’ snapshots taken in March of each year, we’re looking at: 2022 : around 10500 2023 : around 17000 2024 : around 18500 2025 : around 21000 (I know there are different methods of measuring these, like read-only nodes, the % change is roughly the same nonetheless)

In my opinion, if we had non-clunky software that was actually released with proper testing and usability in mind, we could’ve easily doubled those node numbers. A bad user experience with a wallet spreads fast—and brings in exactly zero new users. The same goes for people trying to set up a miner or spin up a node, only to give up after a few frustrating steps. Sure, there are good people out there making guides and videos2 to help mitigate those hurdles, and that helps. But let’s be honest: there’s still very little “wow” factor when average users interact with most Bitcoin software. Almost every time they walk away, it’s because of one of two things—usability issues or bugs.

For the record: if a user can’t set up a wallet because the interface is so rotten or poorly tested, so they don’t know where to click or how to even select a seed word from a list, then that’s a problem — that’s a bug. Argue all you want: sure, it’s not a code-level bug and no, it’s not a system crash. But it is a usability failure. Call it onboarding friction, UX flaw, whatever fits your spreadsheet or circus Maximus of failures in your ticketing system. Bottom line: if your software doesn’t help users accomplish its core purpose, it’s broken. It’s a bug. Pretending it’s something a copywriter or marketing team can fix is pure deflection. The solution isn’t to relabel the problem, 1990’s telecom-style, just to avoid dealing with it. It’s to actually sit down, think, collaborate, and go through the issue, and getting real solutions out. ”No it’s not an issue, that’s how it works” like someone from a failing (and by now defunct) wallet told me once, is not a solution.

You got 21 seconds

The user can’t be onboarded because your software has an “issue”? In my book, that’s a bug. The usual response when you report it? “Yeah, that’s not a priority.” Well, guess what? It actually is a priority. All these small annoyances, hurdles, and bits of BS still plague this industry, and they make the whole experience miserable for regular people trying it out for the first time. The first 21 seconds (yeah, you see what I did there) are the most important when someone opens new software. If it doesn’t click right away—if they’re fiddling with sats or dollar signs, or hunting for some hidden setting buried behind a tiny arrow—it’s game over. They’re annoyed. They’re gone.

And this is exactly why we’re seeing a flood of shitcoin apps sweeping new users off their feet with "faster apps" or "nicer designs" apps that somehow can afford the UI specialists and slick, centralized setups to spread their lies and scams.

I hate to say it, but the Phantom wallet for example, for the Solana network, loaded with fake airdrop schemes and the most blatant scams — has a far better UX than most Bitcoin wallets and Lightning Wallets. Learn from it. Download that **** and get to know what we do wrong and how we can learn from the enemy.

That’s a hard truth. So, instead of just screaming “Uh, shitcooooin!” (yes, we know it is), maybe we should start learning from it. Their apps are better than ours in terms of UI and UX. They attract more people 5x faster (we know that’s also because of the fast gains and retardation playing with the marketing) but we can’t keep ignoring that. Somehow these apps attract more than our trustworthiness, our steady, secure, decentralized hard money truth.

It’s like stepping into one of the best Italian restaurants in town—supposedly. But then the menu’s a mess, the staff is scrolling on their phones, and something smells burnt coming from the kitchen. So, what do you do? You walk out. You cross the street to the fast food joint and order a burger and fries. And as you’re walking out with your food, someone from the Italian place yells at you: “Fast food is bad!” ”Yeah man I know, I wanted a nice Spaghetti aglio e olio, but here I am, digesting a cheeseburger that felt rather spongy.” (the problem is so gone so deep now, that users just walk past that Italian restaurant, don’t even recognize it as a restaurant because it doesn’t have cheeseburgers).

Fear of the dark

Technical people, not marketeers built bitcoin, it’s build on hundreds of small building blocks that interacted over time to have the bitcoin network and it’s immer evolving value. At one point David Chaum cooked up eCash, using blind signatures to let people send digital money anonymously — except it was still stuck on clunky centralized servers. Go back even further, to the 1970s, when Diffie, Hellman, and Rivest introduced public-key cryptography—the magic sauce that gave us secure digital signatures and authentication, making sure your messages stayed private and tamper-proof.

Fast forward to the 1990s, where peer-to-peer started to take off, decentralized networks getting started. Adam Back’s Hashcash in ‘97 used proof-of-work to fight email spam, and the cypherpunks were all about sticking it to the man with privacy-first, the invention 199 Human-Readable 128-bit keys3, decentralized systems. We started to swap files over p2p networks and later, torrents.

All these parts—anonymous cash, encryption, and leaderless networks finally clicked into place when Satoshi Nakamoto poured them into a chain of blocks, built on an ingenious “time-stamping” system: the timechain, or blockchain if you prefer. And just like that, Bitcoin was born—a peer-to-peer money system that didn’t need middlemen and actually worked without any central servers.

So yes, it’s only natural that Bitcoin and the many tools, born from math, obscurity, and cryptography, isn’t exactly always a user-interface darling. That’s also it’s charm for me in any case, as the core is robust and valuable beyond belief. That’s why we love to so see more use, more adoption.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t squash critical “show-stopper” bugs before releasing bitcoin-related software. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean we should act like jerks when a user points out something’s broken, confusing, or just doesn’t meet expectations. We can’t be complacent either about our role as builders of the next generations, as the core is hard money, and it would be a fatal mistake for the world to see it being used only for some rockstars from Wall Street and their counterparts to store their debt laden fiat. We can free people, make them better, make them elevate themselves. And yet, the people we try to elevate, we often alienate. All because we don’t test our stuff well enough. We should be so good, we blow the banking apps away. (they’re blowing themselves out of the market luckily with fiat “features” and overly over the top use of “analytics” to measure your carbon footprint for example).

We should be so damn professional that someone using Bitcoin apps for a full year wouldn’t even notice any bugs, because there wouldn’t be much to get annoyed by.

So… we have to do better. I’ve seen it time and time again — on Lightning tipping apps, Nostr plugins, wallets, hardware wallets, even metal plates we can screw up somehow … you name it. “It works on my machine”, isn’t enough anymore! Those days are over.

Even apps built with solid funding and strong dev and test teams like fedi.xyz4 can miss the mark. While the idea was good and the app itself ran fine without too much hurdles and usual bugs. But usability failed on a different front: there was just nothing meaningful to do in the app beyond poking around, chatting a bit, and sending a few sats back and forth. The communities it’s supposed to connect, just aren’t there, or weren’t there “yet”.

It’s a beautifully designed application and a strong proof-of-concept for federated community funds. But then… nothing. No one I know uses it. Their last blogpost was from beginning of October 2024, which doesn’t bode well, writing this than 6 months after. That said, they got some great onboarding going, usually under 20 seconds, which proves it can be done right (even if it was all a front-end for a more complex backend).

As you can see “usability” is a broad terminology, covering technical aspects, user-interface, but also use-cases. Even if you have a cool app that works really well and is well thought-out users won’t use it if there’s no real substance. You can’t get that critical mass by waiting for customers to come in or communities to embrace it. They won’t, because most of the individuals already had past experiences with bitcoin apps or services, and there’s a reason for them not being on-board already.

A lot of bitcoin companies build tools for new people. Never for the lapsed people, the persons that came in, thought of it as an investment or “a coin”… then left because of a bad experience or the price going down in fiat. All the while we have some software that usually isn’t so kind to new people, or causes loss of funds and time. Even if they make one little “mistake” of not knowing the system beforehand.

Bitcoin’s Moby Dick

\ Bitcoin itself has a big issue here. The user base could grow faster, and more robust, if there wasn’t software that worked as a sort of repellent against users.

I especially see a younger and less tech-savvy audience absolutely disliking the software we have now. No matter if it’s Electrum’s desktop wallet (hardly the sexiest tool out there, although I like it myself, but it lacks some features), Sparrow, or any lightning wallet out there (safe for WoS). I even saw people disliking Proton wallet, which I personally thought of as something really slick, well-made and polished. But even that doesn’t cut it for many people, as the “account” and “wallet” system wasn’t clear enough for them. (You see, we all have the same bias, because we know bitcoin, we look at it from a perspective of “facepalm, of course it’s a wallet named “account”, but when you sit next to a new user, it becomes clear that this is a hurdle. (please proton wallet: name a wallet a wallet, not “account”. But most users already in bitcoin, love what you’re doing)

Naturally disliking usability

The same technically brilliant people who maintain Bitcoin and build its apps haven’t quite tapped into their inner Steve Jobs—if that person even exists in the Bitcoin space. Let’s be honest: the next iOS-style wow moment, or the kind of frictionless usability seen in Spotify or Instagram, probably won’t come from hardcore Bitcoin devs alone. In fact, some builders in the space seem to actively disregard—or even look down on—discussions about usability. Just mention names like Wallet of Satoshi (yes, we all know it’s a custodial frontend) or the need for smoother interactions with Bitcoin, and you’ll get eye-rolls or defensive rants instead of curiosity or openness.

Moving more towards a better user interface for things like Sparrow or Bitcoin Core for example, would bring all kinds of “bad things” according to some, and on top of that, bring in new users (noobs) that ask questions like: “Do you burn all these sats when I make a transaction?” (Yes, that’s a real one.)

I get the “usability sucks” gripe — fear of losing key features, dumbing things down, or opening the door to unwanted changes (like BIP proposals real bitcoiners hate) that tweak bitcoin to suit any user’s whim. Close to no one in bitcoin (really in bitcoin!) wants that, including me.

That fear is however largely unfounded; because Bitcoin doesn’t change without consensus. Any change that would undermine its core use or value proposition simply won’t make it through. And let’s be honest: most of the users who crave these “faster,” centralized alternatives—those drawn to slick apps, one-click solutions, and dopamine-driven UI—will either stick with fiat, ape into the shitcoin-of-the-month, or praise the shiny new CBDC once it drops (“much fast, much cool”). These degen types, chasing fiat gains and jackpot dreams, aren’t relevant to this story, No matter what we build for bitcoin, they’ll always love the fiat-story and will always dislike bitcoin because it’s not a jackpot for them. (Honestly, why don’t they just gamble at a casino?)

People who fear that improving usability will somehow bring down the Bitcoin network are being a bit too paranoid—and honestly, they often don’t understand what usability or proper testing actually means.

They treat it like fluff, when in reality it's fundamental. Usability doesn't mean dumbing things down or compromising Bitcoin's core values; it means understanding why your fancy new app isn’t being used by anyone outside of your bubble. Testing is the beating heart of getting things out with confidence. Nothing more satisfying in software building than to proudly show even your beta versions to users, knowing it’s well tested. It’s much more than clicking a few buttons and tossing your code on GitHub. It's about asking real questions: can someone outside your Telegram group actually use this and will it they be using the software at all?

If you create a Nostr app that opens an in-app browser window and then tries to log you in with your NIPS05 or NIPS07 or whatever number it is that authenticates you, then you need to think about how it’s going to work in real life. Have people already visited this underlying website? Is that website using the exact same mechanism? Is it really working like we think it is in the real world? (Some notable good things are happening with the development of Keychat for example, I have the feeling they get it, it’s not all bad). And yes, there are still bugs and things to improve there, they’re just starting. (The browser section and nostr login need some work imho).

Guess what? You can test your stuff. But it takes time and effort. The kind of effort that, if skipped, gets multiplied across thousands of people. Thousands of people wasting their time trying to use your app, hitting errors, assuming they did something wrong, retrying, googling workarounds—only to eventually realize: it’s not them. It’s a bug. A bug you didn’t catch. Because you didn’t test. And now everyone loses. And guess what? Those users? They’re not coming back.

A good example (to stay positive here) is Fountain App, where the first versions were , eh… let’s say not so good, and then quickly evolved into a company and product that works really well, and also listens to their users and fixes their bugs. The interface can still be better in my opinion, but it’s getting there. And it’s super good now.

A bad example? Alby. (Sorry to say.) It still suffers from a bloated, clunky interface and an onboarding flow that utterly confuses new or returning users. It just doesn’t get the job done. Opinions may vary, sure, but hand this app to any non-technical user and ask them to get online and do a Nostr zap. Watch what happens. If they even manage to get through the initial setup, that is.

Another example? Bitkit. When I tried transferring funds from the "savings" to the "spending" account, the wallet silently opened a Lightning channel—no warning, no explanation—and suddenly my coins were locked up. To make things worse, the wallet still showed the full balance as spendable, even though part of it was now stuck in that channel. That was in November 2024, the last time I touched Bitkit. I wasted too much time trying to figure it out, I haven’t looked back (assuming the project is even still alive, I didn’t see them pop up anywhere).

Some metal BIP39 backup tools are great in theory but poorly executed. I bought one that didn’t even include a simple instruction on how to open it. The person I gave it to spent two hours trying to open it with a screwdriver and even attempted drilling. Turns out, it just slides open with some pressure. A simple instruction would’ve saved all that frustration.

Builders often assume users “just get it,” but a small guide could’ve prevented all the hassle. It’s a small step, but it’s crucial for better user experience. So why not avoid such situations and put a friggin cheap piece of paper in the box so people know how to open it? (The creators would probably facepalm if they read this, “how can users nòt see this?”). Yeah,… put a paper in there with instructions.

That’s natural, because as a creator you’re “in” it, you know. You don’t see how others would overlook something so obvious.

Bitcoiners are extremely bad on that front.

I’ll dive deeper into some examples in part 2 of this post.

By AVB

end of part 1

If you like to support independent thought and writings on bitcoin, follow this substack please https://coinos.io/allesvoorbitcoin/receive\ \ footnotes:

1 https://philzimmermann.com/EN/findpgp/

2 BTC sessions: set up a bitcoin node

3 https://datatracker.ietf.org/doc/html/rfc1751

4 https://www.fedi.xyz/