Jack Dorsey’s experiment in decentralised communication has just received an unexpected stress test in Nepal. When the government moved to silence dissent by shutting down access to social media platforms, more than 48,000 Nepalis turned almost overnight to his Bluetooth mesh-powered app, bitchat, as violence over corruption and state repression gripped the country.
Last week, Nepal’s ruling authorities introduced a drastic measure: an outright block on social media platforms including Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and WhatsApp. The restriction was designed to stop what ministers called “the rapid spread of dangerous, anti-government content.” Instead, it had the opposite effect.
Young people, many of them aligned with the growing Gen Z-led protest movement, quickly adopted alternatives. The adoption numbers speak volumes: while fewer than 3,500 Nepalese had downloaded bitchat the week prior, by Monday downloads had exploded to nearly 49,000 — quadruple the levels seen in protest-stricken Indonesia, where a similar corruption scandal sparked crackdowns last week.
The ban spiralled into violence. Demonstrators set fire to parliament and parts of the Supreme Court. Protestors stormed the compound where Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli was staying as accusations of cash misuse and opaque governance engulfed his administration. Oli’s resignation followed days later, but only after 19 lives were lost and hundreds more were injured under fierce responses from security forces deploying tear gas and live ammunition.
The dramatic scenes in Nepal echo those in Indonesia just days before, pointing towards a broader societal trend: communities living under censorship or surveillance are increasingly turning to decentralised, peer-to-peer communication tools, often branded as “freedom tech.”
Much like the rise of cryptocurrency was driven by disillusion with centralised financial systems, decentralised communication apps are being powered by resistance to Big Tech platforms, regulators and authoritarian crackdowns. Users seeking safety and anonymity are shifting to platforms free of the surveillance, content filtering and data monetisation associated with traditional channels.
This sits within a wider global tug-of-war over digital privacy. The European Union is now edging closer to its controversial “Chat Control” bill, which would mandate that popular messaging services screen communications even before encryption, effectively demolishing the very protections that apps like Signal, Telegram and WhatsApp are founded upon. Fifteen member states have already signalled approval. All eyes are now on Germany’s deciding vote.
Bitchat is only two months old. Launched in July by Jack Dorsey, Square and Block’s co-founder, the app skips the traditional internet backbone entirely. Instead, it takes advantage of Bluetooth mesh networks, allowing smartphones to link directly, bouncing encrypted messages across devices near one another — even without access to mobile data or Wi-Fi.
This architecture means there are no central servers, no phone numbers or email addresses required, and no obvious points of failure. In short, it is designed to be censorship-resistant by default. In countries where access to social media or telecommunications is severed, such tools could provide lifelines for communication. A similar principle is driving blockchain recruitment in communication tech, with engineers and cryptographers increasingly sought after to refine resilient networks that resist top-down control.
The technology isn’t alone. Alternatives such as Signal, the Nostr-powered Damus, Session, and Status are all targeting the same promise: secure messaging unhindered by institutional interference. However, when viewed against industry giants like Meta’s suite of platforms — which drew 3.48 billion daily users in June — these “freedom tech” apps remain tiny but symbolically potent competitors.
The story doesn’t only concern activism and censorship. Workforce demand across decentralised communication and blockchain-linked ventures is intensifying. For crypto recruitment and blockchain recruitment agencies such as Spectrum Search, this signals opportunity and urgency in equal measure.
Projects like Dorsey’s bitchat need developers capable of scaling encrypted peer-to-peer protocols, product strategists who understand decentralised architecture, and compliance experts who can anticipate the regulatory storms looming across the EU, Asia and beyond. As decentralised systems evolve, web3 recruitment is shifting focus towards:
One need only glance at trends like the surge in crypto heists in 2024 or global battles around encrypted privacy to see why blockchain recruiters and web3 headhunters are in high demand. “Freedom tech” isn’t only reshaping political protest — it’s reconfiguring the hiring pipeline across cryptography, mesh networking, and secure communications.
The Nepal scenario demonstrates the paradox of control: measures meant to suppress dissent often fast-track mass adoption of uncensorable alternatives. Social media bans that seek to silence voices may, unintentionally, create fertile ground for decentralised innovations to gain traction at scale.
For crypto recruiters, it illuminates a key lesson: talent shortages are not limited to DeFi protocols or NFT marketplaces. The new battleground is communication itself. From decentralised energy systems to decentralised media, human capital remains the Achilles’ heel and opportunity zone of web3.
Nepal’s 48,000 downloads in under a week is not a mass exodus from Big Tech — but it is a signal. The next phase of blockchain recruitment isn’t simply about building money transfers or gaming platforms. It’s about engineering sovereignty into the basic ability to talk, organise and resist.