In the corridors of geopolitical strategy, there are whispers louder than any official announcement, whispers that reveal not just intent but grand designs to re-engineer the very architecture of global finance. The recent statement by Sergey Kobyakov, an advisor to Russian President Vladimir Putin, is one such whisper that deserves not just attention but deep scrutiny. His assertion is direct and unsettling: the United States, burdened with a $35 trillion debt, has devised a crypto-financial scheme to erase its liabilities—at the expense of the rest of the world. To dismiss it as mere Russian propaganda is to underestimate the historical audacity with which Washington has, time and again, shifted its economic problems onto others. To treat it as conspiracy theory is to ignore the very pattern of history.
The American playbook has always been clear—when internal economic rot threatens its hegemony, Washington rewrites the rules of global finance. In the 1930s, under Franklin D. Roosevelt, the U.S. confiscated gold from its own citizens and then revalued it to strengthen the dollar. In the 1970s, Richard Nixon slammed the gold window shut, decoupling the dollar from gold altogether, thereby exporting inflation to the rest of the world. Each move was strategic, ruthless, and calculated to ensure that the dollar retained its supremacy regardless of the cost others bore. Today, as Kobyakov points out, we are staring at a similar inflection point. Only this time, the tool is not gold or oil—it is crypto, the so-called decentralized dream of financial freedom that may soon be weaponized into a centralized lifeboat for Washington’s drowning economy.
Consider the size of America’s debt—$35 trillion. That is not just a number, it is a looming shadow over the global economy. To service this debt, the U.S. must either raise taxes (politically suicidal), print more money (economically devastating), or find a creative way to shift the burden elsewhere. Enter the world of cryptocurrencies and stablecoins. What began as a libertarian vision to bypass governments and empower individuals has now caught the attention of the most powerful government in the world. Washington has seen in crypto both a threat and an opportunity. A threat because decentralized finance challenges dollar hegemony; an opportunity because the “crypto cloud” offers a convenient new arena where debts can be obscured, valuations can be manipulated, and accountability can vanish into digital ether.
Kobyakov’s argument is chillingly simple: Washington will push its debt into the crypto ecosystem, likely under the guise of issuing government-backed stablecoins or crypto-linked treasury products. Once in, the U.S. can manipulate the valuation of these instruments, effectively devaluing its debt while pretending to innovate in the financial sector. Imagine a scenario where trillions of dollars of American liabilities are tokenized into digital assets, only to be “adjusted” over time under the pretext of market volatility or technological transition. In simple words: they will move the debt into the cloud, devalue it, and start afresh—leaving investors, foreign governments, and global markets holding devalued tokens instead of hard cash.
This is not far-fetched. Already, discussions in financial policy circles in Washington hint at the inevitability of a digital dollar. Federal Reserve officials have debated the merits of central bank digital currencies (CBDCs), while private stablecoins like Tether and USDC have gained massive global traction. The infrastructure for this “crypto cloud” is quietly being built. But here’s the catch—while everyone else sees crypto as an alternative to the dollar, Washington may see it as a new shell for the same dollar dominance, with the added advantage of erasing old debts. If the world is pushed into adopting U.S.-linked stablecoins as a parallel or dominant financial instrument, then Washington has found its next reset button.
The analogy with history is glaring. In the 1930s, Americans were compelled to hand over their gold at $20 per ounce, only for the government to revalue it to $35 per ounce soon after. Citizens lost, the government gained. In the 1970s, Nixon’s shock ended the gold standard, which plunged global economies into inflation while giving Washington a free hand to print money without constraint. Each time, the American leadership solved domestic financial crises by exporting costs to the global system. Why would today be any different? In fact, with debt levels unprecedented in history and global trust in the dollar declining—especially after the weaponization of financial sanctions against Russia, Iran, and others—Washington is desperate for another reset.
Crypto offers the perfect cover. It comes with the allure of innovation, the buzz of technological progress, and the promise of democratization. Who would oppose a transition that is marketed as the “future of finance”? Yet behind this progressive façade may lie the oldest trick in the book: shifting the cost of America’s excesses onto others. If tomorrow trillions of U.S. debt are wrapped into stablecoins, foreign investors and governments who hold them will face the risk of silent devaluation. The Federal Reserve or U.S. Treasury could always claim that such fluctuations are the natural byproduct of a volatile new financial system, thereby absolving themselves of deliberate manipulation.
The biggest irony, of course, is that the very enthusiasts who see crypto as liberation from the dollar may be walking into a trap that strengthens the dollar’s hold in another avatar. The “crypto cloud” could be dollarized before anyone realizes it, with Washington controlling the levers. A digital ledger does not guarantee fairness; it only guarantees traceability. If the U.S. government designs the rules, then crypto will not free us from dollar hegemony—it will entrench it deeper, with more sophisticated tools for control and deception.
For nations like India, China, Russia, and others seeking financial autonomy, this development should ring alarm bells. The push towards alternative payment systems, local currency trade, and gold-backed financial instruments is not just desirable—it is necessary. If the world sleepwalks into the American crypto trap, then the next financial reset will be written not in the language of freedom, but in the code of manipulation. The lesson from history is clear: when Washington speaks of innovation in finance, it often means innovation in transferring its burdens onto others.
Kobyakov’s warning should therefore be read not as propaganda but as a strategic alert. The $35 trillion elephant in the room cannot be ignored, and America has no magic wand except financial engineering. The crypto scheme is not fantasy—it is the logical next move in a long history of economic survival tactics. And like every previous reset, it will come at a cost to the rest of the world.
The real question is: will the world fall for it again? Or will countries finally recognize the pattern and insulate themselves from America’s debt-driven resets? The choice is urgent, because the “crypto cloud” is already forming on the horizon. Washington may once again erase its sins, but this time, the bill could be larger than ever—and the global economy may find itself paying in digital tokens for America’s addiction to debt.
