We didn’t build Ethereum to become a settlement layer for a handful of Wall Street banks. We built it to replace the very concept of permissioned trust. Yet here we are, in 2025, watching a familiar replay: financial institutions retreating into siloed private blockchains, each one a walled garden claiming efficiency, but each one perpetuating the same inefficiencies that blockchain was supposed to dissolve. Etherealize CEO Vivek Raman’s recent warning — that Wall Street’s private blockchain push is a “race to the bottom” — isn’t just a headline. It’s a philosophical battleground. And it’s the most honest signal yet that the institutional adoption narrative has reached a critical inflection point.
Let me rewind to 2017. I was a junior consultant in Chicago, burning midnight oil over Vitalik’s ZK-SNARKs papers. I remember the thrill of realizing that mathematical proofs could replace legal contracts. I built a crude Proof-of-Knowledge demo using ZoKrates, and when I published a Medium article titled “Why Mathematics is the New Social Contract,” I had no idea it would attract a DAO focused on decentralized identity. That experience taught me something: the real power of public blockchains isn’t speed or privacy — it’s the ability to enforce truth without asking for permission. Fast forward eight years, and that same principle is at the center of a multi-trillion-dollar debate.
The context is straightforward. Wall Street — JPMorgan’s Onyx, Digital Asset’s Canton Network, Fidelity’s tokenized funds — has been building private blockchains for years. The promise: faster settlement, lower costs, and regulatory compliance. The reality, according to Raman, is a fragmented mess of incompatible ledgers, each one a “data silo” that misses the point of blockchain entirely. “Private blockchains perpetuate inefficiencies,” Raman said. He argued that public blockchains like Ethereum offer the scalable, transparent infrastructure that finance truly needs. This isn’t a technical argument about TPS or finality. It’s a trust model argument. And it cuts to the core of what blockchain even means.
But let’s get technical for a moment, because the devil is in the consensus. Public blockchains like Ethereum rely on a permissionless validator set. Anyone can run a node, anyone can verify transactions, anyone can audit the state. This is the foundation of “no trusted third party.” Private blockchains, by contrast, limit validator participation to a pre-approved consortium of institutions. The trade-off is obvious: privacy and control come at the cost of decentralised security. But here’s the nuance that Raman’s critics miss — it’s not just about security. It’s about composability. On Ethereum, a tokenized Treasury bond from BlackRock can be used as collateral in a DeFi lending pool, which can be integrated with a derivatives market, which can be settled in a stablecoin. That chain of value is impossible on a private chain because each institution’s ledger is a separate island. Liquidity isn’t a feature you can bolt on; it’s the emergent property of an open network. And without openness, you get fragmentation — the “race to the bottom” where each bank lowers its standards to compete, but nobody wins.
I’ve seen this first-hand. During DeFi Summer 2020, I forked three AMM protocols to test their governance models. What I discovered was that the most successful communities weren’t the ones with the best code — they were the ones that maximized participation. We organized weekly “Governance Jam” sessions on Discord, attracting 500+ contributors. That engagement created network effects that no private chain could replicate. Private chains have governance, sure, but it’s governance by committee, not by community. Identity isn’t a permissioned KYC check; it’s the presence of consent in every transaction. When you control who can transact, you control the rules — and that’s the opposite of what blockchain promises.
Now, the contrarian angle. Raman’s warning is not without blind spots. First, public blockchains today cannot provide the privacy that institutional traders demand. A hedge fund doesn’t want its entire order flow visible on Etherscan. Zero-knowledge proofs are promising, but enterprise-grade zkKYC and compliance layers are still in their infancy. Second, regulatory uncertainty looms large. If a major bank uses Ethereum for settlement, it exposes itself to the SEC’s classification of ETH as a security — a risk that private chains sidestep by using permissioned tokens. Raman conveniently avoids this. Third, the “efficiency” of public chains is not always better. Ethereum’s L1 can handle ~15 TPS; even with L2s, the throughput is orders of magnitude below what a Visa network does. Private chains like Canton have demonstrated master agreements with billions in repo transactions. The claim that private chains are inherently “inefficient” is an oversimplification.
But here’s where the contrarian view flips. The real inefficiency isn’t technical — it’s coordination. Each Wall Street bank building its own private chain is like every company building its own internet in the 1990s. The value of a network is proportional to the number of participants, and no private consortium can match the global reach of a public chain. The cost of bridging between private silos will eventually outweigh the benefits of privacy. Freedom isn’t the ability to exclude others; it’s the ability to connect without barriers. That’s what Raman is really saying.
I’ve been through bear markets that tested this thesis. In 2022, when my portfolio crashed, I shifted my focus to on-chain data. I identified 15 projects with high code activity but low price correlation — the “silent builders.” One of them was a protocol for tokenizing volunteer hours. That experience taught me that resilience comes from utility, not hype. The same applies to the private vs. public debate. The private chains will survive as long as institutions need controlled experiments. But the long-term winner is the one that attracts the most developers, the most users, and the most liquidity. That’s Ethereum, by a wide margin.
So where does this leave us? The race to the bottom is real — but it’s not about private chains failing. It’s about the entire industry realizing that walled gardens are a dead end. The next six months will be telling. Watch for a major institution — maybe BlackRock, maybe Fidelity — to announce a migration from a private chain to a public L2. That will be the moment the race turns upward. Until then, Raman’s warning is a shot across the bow. The question is: will Wall Street listen, or will it keep building islands in a sea of composability?
As I write this, I’m reminded of a line from my 2017 article: “Mathematics is the new social contract.” The math doesn’t lie. Public blockchains offer a trust model that scales with transparency, not permission. Private chains offer control at the cost of reach. The choice is clear — but it’s not an easy one. The institutions that embrace openness will define the next generation of finance. The ones that don’t will be left with expensive, isolated databases. That’s the real race to the bottom. And the finish line is a world where consent is the base layer, not a feature.
I’ll leave you with this: the next time you hear a bank announce a “private blockchain solution,” ask them one question. “Can I audit your validator set? Can I fork your ledger? Can I build an application on top without asking your permission?” If the answer is no, it’s not blockchain. It’s just a database with a new name. And we didn’t build this technology to rename databases.

