I developed the Business Orientations theory quite a few years ago. It is a framework that divides businesses into four fundamental orientations according to what they truly offer their customers. The theory covers the characteristics of each orientation, their practical applications, and various analogies from other fields.

One of those analogies deals with different forms of money. In the original version of the theory, I placed cryptocurrencies — especially Bitcoin — in the self-service category. My reasoning was rather lazy and superficial: Bitcoin seemed like “money that generates itself,” created automatically through mining.This was a clear mistake. Only after several years did I realize that Bitcoin belongs in the commodity category. It functions as a commodity with highly distinctive features: a strictly limited maximum supply of 21 million coins, mining that becomes progressively more difficult and expensive, and steadily growing demand as it is increasingly adopted as a store of value.

The situation resembles gold under given conditions — if we knew in advance the exact remaining amount that could ever be mined, that extraction would become ever more costly, and that the number of potential buyers would keep increasing due to demographic and economic growth. This is essentially the position Bitcoin has been in for years.

What makes this story personally uncomfortable is that my own theory should have guided me to the right conclusion much earlier. The framework itself offered the tools to correctly identify Bitcoin as a commodity with strong fundamentals: limited supply combined with rising demand.To make matters worse, in 2011, when Bitcoin was trading at around three dollars, I personally knew a journalist who wrote an article about it. We spoke about the topic. I was aware of Bitcoin at a very early stage.Despite having both the theoretical model and timely information, I did nothing.

The real reason was that I was too absorbed in developing and contemplating pure theory. I was more interested in understanding life than in actually living it and making practical use of my insights.
This experience remains a valuable lesson. A good theory is only as useful as one’s willingness to apply it consistently — especially to opportunities in one’s own life. Intellectual understanding without action can come at a surprisingly high cost.