The masks we want to unmask: the psychology of unmasking anonymous figures

2024. Oct. 20. | Web3

The internet age has created a space where individuals can build communities, create art, and even start global financial revolutions in the guise of anonymity. 

Why are we obsessed with anonymous creators such as Bitcoin Satoshija and Shiba Inu Ryoshija, and do we have the right to tear down the walls of their privacy?

Once a cloak of privacy, anonymity is now often an irresistible temptation, a challenge whispering in the digital ether.

In this mind-bogglingly interconnected, yet paradoxically opaque world, the masked figure, the pseudonymous voice, the unknown creator becomes an irresistible puzzle, a mystery begging to be solved. This phenomenon, recently triggered by HBO's documentary "Money Electric", and the Bitcoin by the enigmatic creator Satoshi Nakamoto, explores a deeper, more primal human impulse: the relentless need to expose those who choose to remain hidden.

But while the mystery of Satoshi continues to captivate, Shiba Inu history - the meme coin has become a global phenomenon - offers a more nuanced and perhaps even more convincing exploration of this psychological motivation.

Just think of Ryoshi, the pseudonymous creator of the Shiba Inu crypto project, who is shrouded in deliberate mysticism. In the midst of fervent, almost feverish attempts to break through the veil of anonymity, Ryoshi has issued a tantalising declaration: 'I'm nobody, I'm not important... I'm just a guy... and I'm replaceable. I am Ryoshi."

This statement, designed to distract, became paradoxically seductive, intensifying intrigue and solidifying Ryoshi's status as a digital enigma. Likewise, Shytoshi Kusama, the project's leading visionary, actively cultivated an aura of mystery, rejecting the cult of personality that often surrounds prominent figures in the cryptographic world.

"That's not my goal," Kusama said, refusing to be pressured to reveal their identities. "I'm not anyone special... I don't need my face to become a public figure." In their wilful anonymity, both Ryoshi and Kusama, like Satoshi before them, become even more convincing, their masked presence a blank canvas on which the community projects its hopes, fears and fantasies.

This anonymous search, this digital detective work, is fuelled by a powerful cocktail of psychological forces. 

Research from the University of Queensland suggests that online anonymity serves a dual purpose: self-expression and toxicity. This duality creates a fascinating tension, a dramatic interplay between light and shadow.

While some individuals take advantage of anonymity to engage authentically, free themselves from the weight of social expectations, and form genuine bonds without fear of judgment (as Psychological Science and the Pew Research Center have observed), others exploit the shadows for nefarious purposes, cyberbullying and other forms of online malicious expression.

It is this inherent ambiguity that fuels our curiosity, igniting a desire to uncover whether the anonymous figure is a benevolent force or a malevolent agent.

The human need for attribution and understanding adds another layer to this complex equation. We are narrative beings driven to connect cause and effect, creation and creator. 

We want to understand the motivations, the inspirations - the human story behind the work. In the case of Shiba Inu, knowing the identity of Ryoshi or Kusama would not simply satisfy idle curiosity; it could provide invaluable insight into the genesis, development and guiding philosophy of the project. It would allow us to place this decentralised phenomenon within a larger narrative framework, to understand the human heart beating beneath the digital code.

Moreover, the appeal of the puzzle itself, the thrill of the chase, cannot be underestimated. Unraveling an anonymous figure is like cracking a code, solving a puzzle - it is an exciting intellectual exercise that taps into our desire for mastery and control.

The internet, with its vast interconnectivity and limitless information, is amplifying this drive, turning the hunt into a collaborative, almost crowd-sourced, global detective story. Attempts to unmask Ryoshi, like the ongoing search to identify Satoshi, exemplify this phenomenon, turning online communities into bustling hives of speculation and investigation.

Finally, and perhaps most fundamentally, the desire to expose stems from a deep-rooted human need for categorisation and order. Anonymous figures disrupt our innate drive to organize and understand the world, to label and categorize everything within our mental framework.

By assigning a name, a face, a story to the unknown, we reassert a sense of control, we transform the mysterious "other" into something familiar, something we can grasp and integrate into our existing worldview.

The psychology of exposing anonymous figures raises profound ethical questions. In our relentless search for the hidden identities behind digital creations and online personas, are we crossing a line?

When individuals choose anonymity, do we as a collective have the right to deprive them of the privacy they have carefully built around themselves? Who are we to challenge the carefully constructed walls of their chosen anonymity, to demand that they step into the light?

This question is even more important in the context of characters like Ryoshi and Kusama. Their deliberate decision to remain anonymous, while arousing intense curiosity, raises fundamental questions about the balance between the public interest and individual privacy.

Do we have the right to know who they are simply because they have created something that has attracted public attention? Does their contribution to the world of cryptocurrencies, their influence on a community of millions, deny them the right to remain unknown?

Arguments in favour of disclosure are often based on accountability and transparency. In cases of alleged wrongdoing, revealing the identity of an anonymous actor can be key to seeking justice and preventing further harm.

In the absence of such allegations, does the right of public access trump the individual's right to privacy? The case of Satoshi Nakamoto, recently examined in the HBO documentary Money Electric, highlights this tension.

Although Satoshi is not accused of wrongdoing, the desire to know their identity remains strong. But is this desire justified? Who are we to demand that Satoshi, Ryoshi or Kusama sacrifice their privacy for the mere satisfaction of our curiosity?

The Internet era has blurred the boundary between public and private, with its extensive connectivity and relative anonymity. It has created a space where individuals can build communities, create art, and even launch global financial revolutions in the guise of anonymity.

However, this same anonymity can also be used for malicious purposes, raising legitimate concerns about security and accountability. The challenge is to strike a balance between respecting the privacy of individuals and protecting against potential harm.

The pursuit of anonymous figures, while driven by understandable human impulses, must be tempered by recognition of the right to choose not to know. The masks we seek to unmask may ultimately reveal more about ourselves, our own psychological needs and ethical boundaries than about the individuals we seek to unmask.

The question remains: in our quest to unravel the mystery of anonymity, are we unwittingly sacrificing something even more precious - the right to privacy itself?

Thanks for your contribution!

🙌