Beyond the 'JPEG' | A Human-Centric Guide to True Digital Ownership

1.0 The Great Failure of Language

The decentralization movement’s greatest weakness is not technical, financial, or philosophical—it is linguistic.

The phrase “non-fungible token” may be the single worst branding decision of the 21st century. ¹ It is a sterile, academic, multi-hyphenate piece of laboratory jargon. It is fundamentally negative, defining itself by what it is not (“non-fungible”) rather than what it is. This is language only an engineer or an economist could love. It has no poetry, no humanity, and no soul.

The result was a catastrophic vacuum of meaning. Into that vacuum rushed the only visible artifact the public could grasp: the “JPEG.”

And so, one of the most profound socio-technical innovations of our time—a system for restoring provenance, scarcity, and verifiable ownership to the digital world—was immediately and perhaps irrevocably reduced to a global punchline about overpriced cartoons of apes and pixelated punks. The "digital deed" became a "digital Beanie Baby." ²

This is not a semantic quibble. It is a strategic crisis.

The centralized platforms—the “mall developers” and “digital landlords” of Web 2.0—win not because their technology is superior, but because their language is simpler. They offer "friends," "followers," "profiles," and "pages." These are human-centric metaphors. The decentralized world offered "NFTs," "ERC-721s," "DAOs," and "gas fees."

As Digital Archaeologists, our task is not to pile on more jargon, but to excavate meaning. To clear away the digital dust of opaque terminology and reveal the human truth beneath. To explain, in grounded, resonant terms, what this technology actually is, where it from, and why it is the most important—and perhaps the only—antidote to the digital world we’ve accidentally built.

2.0 What It Is Not: The 'JPEG' Illusion

When Beeple’s Everydays: The First 5000 Days sold at Christie’s for $69.3 million in March 2021, the headlines focused exclusively on the image file. ³ This singular event cemented the false consciousness, the collective illusion, that the file was the asset.

This misunderstanding is the root of the skepticism. The skeptic who right-click-saves the image for free is, in their own way, correct. They do have the image. The pixels are identical. The file is infinitely reproducible.

What they do not have is the asset.

They have a poster from the museum gift shop; they do not have the original painting. They have a photocopy of a car title; they do not have the title itself. They have the music; they do not have the "first pressing" of the vinyl record.

The technological breakthrough was never about the file. The file is, was, and always will be endlessly copyable. The breakthrough was about creating, for the first time in the history of the internet, a mechanism to prove—irrefutably, publicly, and permanently—who holds the title to the original.

The art world has understood this distinction for centuries. An artist’s painting can be reproduced in countless books and posters, but there is only one original. Its value is a function of its provenance—a documented history of ownership. This is often tracked in a catalogue raisonné, a definitive, scholarly ledger of an artist's work. ⁴

The blockchain, in this context, is nothing more than the first truly global, public, and unforgeable catalogue raisonné. The "token" is not the art; it is the entry in the ledger that points to the art and names its owner.

The problem is, "non-fungible token" doesn't sound like "a permanent entry in a public ledger." It sounds like a microchip. And when you fail to provide a human-centric story, the market will invent one for you. In this case, the story became "JPEGs for millionaires."

3.0 The Cognitive Burden of "Fungibility"

To understand the failure, we must excavate the word itself.

"Fungible" is not a human word. It is a 17th-century legal and economic term, derived from the Latin fungī, meaning "to perform, to execute, to discharge." ⁵ Its legal sense, mutua vice fungi, meant "to take the place of each other." It describes an object that can be replaced by another identical unit. A-dollar-is-a-dollar. A-bushel-of-wheat-is-a-bushel-of-wheat.

"Non-fungible," therefore, is a double-negative. It means "not-interchangeable."

From the perspective of human-computer interaction (HCI), this term is a cognitive disaster. It forces the user to perform a complex, multi-step mental calculation just to understand its basic meaning. The user must first:

Encounter the unknown word "fungible."
Attempt to define it (likely failing).
Learn its definition ("interchangeable").
Encounter the prefix "non-."
Mentally negate the definition ("not-interchangeable").
Finally, apply this abstract concept ("not-interchangeable token") to a real-world object (like a piece of art).

This six-step process of intellectual translation creates immense cognitive friction. It is confusing, alienating, and cold. It is "language as gatekeeping."

Now, consider the alternatives.

4.0 The Language of Exchange: What is a "Digital Receipt"?

Let’s abandon the engineer's language and adopt the archaeologist's. We propose two simple, grounded terms:

Digital Receipt (formerly "FT" or Fungible Token)
Digital Deed (formerly "NFT" or Non-Fungible Token)

A Digital Receipt is an interchangeable, verifiable proof of value or membership. It is "fungible."

The term "fungible token" is just as cold as its non-fungible cousin. But what is it really? It's a "token" in the most classic sense of the word: a substitute for value, an "IOU."

A U.S. Dollar is a "fungible token" (a receipt for $1 of value backed by the government).
A Casino Chip is a "fungible token" (a receipt for $1 of value redeemable only at that casino).
An Airline Mile is a "fungible token" (a receipt for a unit of travel, locked to one airline).
A Ticket Stub from a concert is a "fungible token" (a receipt for entry).

The most human-centric metaphor that covers all these use cases is a "Digital Receipt." It is a proof of value paid or value held. It is your entry ticket. It is your proof of membership. It is your unit of account. A "receipt" is something every single person understands as a token of value exchange.

4.1 What Digital Receipts Were Meant to Fix

The problem with all the analog examples above is that they are siloed. Your casino chip from the Bellagio is worthless at the MGM Grand. Your Delta SkyMiles cannot be used on American Airlines. Your in-game currency from World of Warcraft cannot be moved to Final Fantasy.

This is the Web 2.0 model of value: it is value-as-control. Platforms lock you in by holding your value hostage.

Digital Receipts (like the ERC-20 standard on Ethereum) were designed to be a universal, open, and interoperable standard for value. ⁶ The "best-case scenario" was to create a world where value could flow as freely as information.

4.2 Practical Examples of Digital Receipts

Instead of abstract "fungible tokens," consider these grounded applications:

As Community Currency: Imagine a local bookstore that issues its own Digital Receipts. When you buy a book, you earn "Bookstore Receipts" that you can trade with your neighbors for a cup of coffee at the cafe next door, which also accepts them. The value stays within the community, governed by the community, rather than being extracted by a distant credit card company.
As Portable In-Game Value: This is the holy grail for gaming. You spend 100 hours in a game earning a rare "Phoenix Sword." You decide to quit. In Web 2.0, that value is lost forever. In a Web 3.0 model, you could "melt down" that sword into its component "Digital Receipts" (e.g., 1,000 "Iron Receipts" and 10 "Magic Receipts") and use those to craft an item in a completely different game from a different developer. This gives real, persistent value to the time and effort players invest.
As Creator Patronage: A musician or writer can issue their own "Digital Receipts" (often called "social tokens"). Their 1,000 true fans can buy these receipts, giving the creator upfront capital. In return, those receipts might grant access to a private community, early access to new work, or even a fractional share of future royalties. It's a direct, transparent patronage model, free from platform intermediaries.

One Digital Receipt for one dollar is the same as another. One Digital Receipt for one "community vote" is the same as another. They are interchangeable, but now they are portable.

5.0 The Language of Ownership: What is a "Digital Deed"?

This brings us to the second, and more profound, innovation.

A Digital Deed is a unique, verifiable, and public proof of ownership over a specific, unique asset. It is "non-fungible."

This metaphor is powerful because its analog ancestor is universally understood.

A House Deed: You do not own your house simply because you are sitting inside it. You own it because you hold a deed—a legal document, filed with a public records office, that proves your title. The house is the "JPEG." The deed is the asset.
A Car Title: You own your car because you hold the title. The physical car can be stolen, but ownership can only be transferred with that title.
An Artist's Signature: For centuries, provenance has hinged on signatures, estate stamps, and inclusion in that catalogue raisonné. A Digital Deed is the unforgeable, permanent, 21st-century signature of the artist, baked into the work's very existence.

The word "deed" itself is perfect. Etymologically, it comes from the Old English dæd, meaning "a thing done, an act." ⁷ This is precisely what the technology records: the act of creation (the "mint"), the act of sale, the act of transfer. It is a permanent record of acts related to an asset.

5.1 What Digital Deeds Were Meant to Fix: The Original Sin of Web 2.0

Why does this linguistic battle matter? Because this is not a collector's toy. It is the antidote to the fundamental flaw in the architecture of Web 2.0. It is the answer to the "enshittification" of the web. ⁸

The great promise of the early, "hand-built" web—the web of the 1990s—was digital homesteading. We were invited to "build a homepage" on platforms like GeoCities, AngelFire, and Tripod. We were digital pioneers, building our own plots of land, our own neighborhoods.

This was an illusion. We were, in essence, "digital tenants in digital malls."

In 2009, Yahoo, the landlord of GeoCities, shut it down. In an instant, millions of digital homes, creative projects, and personal histories vanished. An entire era of internet culture was erased, an event akin to a digital Alexandria. ⁹

This was the original sin of Web 2.0. We never owned anything. We never had deeds to our digital homes.

We became tenants on massive, centralized platforms: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. We built vast, intricate social structures, businesses, and identities on land we did not own. Our creations, our social graphs, our very identities could be—and are—deleted, demonetized, or de-platformed at the whim of a landlord optimizing for ad revenue.

As Cory Doctorow outlines in his "enshittification" lifecycle, this is the inevitable path for all tenant-based platforms. They first lure in users with a good service (low rent). Then, they lure in businesses to access those users (building stores in the mall). Finally, when both groups are locked in, the platform extracts all value from both, debasing the service until it is a "fading-fast shit-heap." ⁸

We became tenants because we never had a technical mechanism for ownership. We had no way to prove we owned our profile, our data, or our list of "friends." The platform owned it all.

Digital Deeds (like the ERC-721 standard) flip that script. ¹⁰

They are the technical and legal backbone of a human-centric web. They are the tools that allow us to build on owned ground for the first time.

5.2 Practical Examples of Digital Deeds

This is the "best-case scenario," a vision of what the web should be.

For Digital Art & Collectibles (The Obvious Use): This is the Beeple example, but understood correctly. An artist mints a "Digital Deed" for their work. When you buy it, you are not buying the JPEG; you are buying the provenance. The deed proves you are the owner of the original. More importantly, the underlying code (a "smart contract") can ensure the artist automatically receives 10% of every future resale—a royalty system that has never been possible for physical artists.
For Music & "First Pressings": A band can release their new album as 1,000 "Digital Deeds." These are the verifiable "first pressings," akin to a limited-edition vinyl run. Owning one might grant you access to concert pre-sales, private Q&As, or a share of streaming royalties. The deed becomes a direct, provable link between the artist and their most passionate fans.
For Real-World Assets & Provenance: This is where the "JPEG" illusion fully collapses. A "Digital Deed" can be attached to a real-world object. When you buy a luxury watch, you also get a Digital Deed for it. When you sell the watch, you transfer the deed. This creates an unforgeable, public history of ownership, killing the market for fakes and verifying provenance forever. This is already being used for everything from real estate to rare whiskey. ¹¹
For Digital Identity & Reputation (The "Soulbound" Idea): This is perhaps the most powerful idea. What if your university degree, your professional certifications, or your driver's license were "Digital Deeds"? These would be "soulbound" deeds—you can prove you own them, but you cannot sell them. ¹² They are part of you. In this model, you own your identity. You are no longer reliant on Facebook or LinkedIn to "verify" who you are. You hold the deeds to your own life, and you can present them to any platform you wish.
For Digital Landmarks & Homesteads: This brings us back to GeoCities. A Digital Deed can represent a plot of virtual land, a unique in-game item, or—most critically for our work—a landmark domain name. When you own a domain like authenticate.im, you are not just "renting" it from a registrar. In a decentralized system, you could hold the Digital Deed to that name. It becomes a permanent piece of digital real estate, an "owned ground" that no landlord can ever take from you.

When the skeptic says, "I just right-clicked and saved your JPEG," the answer is simple:

"That's fine. You have a picture of my house. I have the deed to it."

This single metaphor resolves the entire conflict. It separates the copyable file from the uncopyable title. It re-frames the conversation from "valuable pixels" to "verifiable ownership."

6.0 The Sobering Reality: What Deeds and Receipts Don't Fix

A "best-case scenario" is useless if we ignore the "worst-case reality." To be credible Digital Archaeologists, we must be honest about the technology's profound failings. This is not a magical panacea.

They Don't Fix the Interface: The single greatest barrier to adoption is usability. The current experience of "web3" is a cognitive nightmare of seed phrases, browser extensions, and cryptic wallet addresses. It is hostile to ordinary humans. The promise of an "owned web" is meaningless if only a tiny fraction of technically-literate users can access it.
They Don't Fix Human Greed (The Bubble): The 2021-2022 mania was a catastrophic distraction. It was a "gold rush" driven by the worst aspects of financial speculation. Hype completely eclipsed utility. This "digital Beanie Baby" phase ² poisoned the public's perception, perhaps for a decade, and made it infinitely harder to have sober conversations about the underlying purpose of the technology.
They Don't Magically Solve Storage (The "Oracle Problem"): This is the technology's dirty secret. A Digital Deed is just an entry in a ledger. It is not the artwork itself. The deed points to where the art is stored. In many early cases, this was just a regular URL on a private company's server. If that company goes bust, the URL dies, and the owner is left holding a deed to a digital "404 Not Found." ¹³ While solutions like IPFS (InterPlanetary File System) aim to fix this, the connection between the "deed" and the "thing" is the weakest link in the entire chain.
They Don't Fix the Environment (By Default): The initial "Proof-of-Work" (PoW) consensus mechanism, which secured Bitcoin and early Ethereum, was—and is—an environmental disaster, consuming more energy than entire countries. ¹⁴ While the vast majority of the "Digital Deed" ecosystem has moved to the highly-efficient "Proof-of-Stake" (PoS) model (which uses ~99.9% less energy), this massive initial carbon footprint rightly damaged the technology's reputation.
They Don't Fix Bad Art or Bad Ideas: A Digital Deed does not imbue an asset with quality. 99.9% of the "JPEGs" minted were, in fact, worthless, low-effort cash-grabs. The technology is a tool for provenance, not a validator of quality.

This technology, in its current state, is deeply flawed. It is cumbersome, has been co-opted by speculators, and carries the baggage of its own early, destructive mistakes.

7.0 The Archaeologist's Mandate: Reclaiming the Narrative

We are living through a crisis of trust. Our digital world is saturated with synthetic media ("deepfakes"), ephemeral platforms, and digital landlords who view us as a resource to be harvested.

The decentralization movement offered a solution: a permanent, public, verifiable ledger of truth. But instead of communicating this revolutionary value, its proponents offered the world "non-fungible tokens." They failed to tell a human story.

Our mandate as Digital Archaeologists is to clear away this dust of jargon. To stop talking like engineers and start talking like humans. To stop saying "NFT" and "FT" and start saying "Digital Deeds" and "Digital Receipts."

These are the simple, grounded, and powerful metaphors of true ownership. They are the language of a web where creators own their work, not platforms. Where users own their identities, not landlords. Where provenance, not hype, defines value.

The "best-case scenario" isn't about everyone becoming a crypto-trader. It's about a web where your concert ticket also functions as a lifetime backstage pass. It's about a web where your university degree is a "soulbound" deed you hold, not a piece of paper a future employer has to "verify." It's about a web where your online identity, your digital home, and your creative work are built on owned ground—a landmark that cannot be erased by a digital landlord.

The battle for the future of the internet is, first and foremost, a battle of language. To reclaim the web, we must first reclaim the narrative.

Sources

Farokhmanesh, M. (2021). "Even the NFT acronym is terrible." The Verge. ↑
Kastrenakes, J. (2021). "NFTs are a digital Beanie Baby bubble." The Verge. ↑ ↑
Christie's. (2021). "Beeple's Everydays: The First 5000 Days." Christie's Auction House. ↑
Roeder, M. B., & W. Weit. (2017). "Provenance and the Catalogue Raisonné." Art Documentation: Journal of the Art Libraries Society of N.A.. ↑
Harper, D. (2023). "Fungible (adj.)." Online Etymology Dictionary. ↑
Ethereum Foundation. (2015). "ERC-20: Token Standard." Ethereum Improvement Proposals. ↑
Harper, D. (2023). "Deed (n.)." Online Etymology Dictionary. ↑
Doctorow, C. (2023). "Why the Internet is a Fading-Fast Shit-Heap (And How to Fix It)." Wired. ↑ ↑
CNN. (2009). "Yahoo shutting down GeoCities." CNN.com. ↑
Ethereum Foundation. (2018). "ERC-721: Non-Fungible Token Standard." Ethereum Improvement Proposals. ↑
G.D. (2021). "Why luxury brands are experimenting with NFTs." The Economist. ↑
Vitalik Buterin, E. G. Weyl, & P. Ohlhaver. (2022). "Decentralized Society: Finding Web3's Soul." Social Science Research Network (SSRN). ↑
Olshansky, M. (2021). "What happens when your NFT's URL breaks?" Vice. ↑
University of Cambridge Judge Business School. (2023). "Cambridge Bitcoin Electricity Consumption Index." ↑