James Howells, the Welshman who famously binned a fortune in Bitcoin, has finally given up on digging through garbage and decided to build a blockchain instead. Because if you can’t literally reclaim your $923 million, why not figuratively do it with your own coin?
After 12 years of pleading, suing, negotiating, and even offering to buy a landfill, Howells has pivoted from waste management to web3. The plan? Launch a Bitcoin layer-2 named Ceiniog. And yes, it’s “backed” by the 8,000 BTC he can’t actually access. Somewhere, Satoshi is nervously sweating.
The $923 Million Mistake
It all began in 2013, during an office cleanup. A hard drive containing the keys to 8,000 Bitcoin, then worth a few sandwiches, now nearly a billion dollars, was tossed out by Howells’ then-girlfriend. The drive was traced to a landfill in Newport, Wales, where it’s presumably chilling under 15 feet of expired yogurt and printer cartridges.
What followed was more than a decade of landfill drama. Howells tried lawsuits, investors, high-tech recovery plans, even offering Newport City Council $3.3 million to just buy the dump. They ghosted him harder than an ex on read receipts.
“I might as well go speak to a brick wall,” Howells told Decrypt, after receiving no replies to his July letters offering a solution that would’ve saved the council $40 million in landfill upkeep. “What’s the f*cking point?”
Enter: Ceiniog Coin
And so, like any true crypto believer denied by bureaucracy, Howells went full phoenix-mode: rising from the ashes of his hard drive to announce a new layer-2 network named Ceiniog, after the ancient Welsh penny.
The pitch? Ceiniog will be backed by his buried treasure. Not backed as in “you can redeem it,” but backed in the sense that “you can see it on-chain, and trust that it’s stuck forever.” A sort of vault: full of Bitcoin, as long as no one opens it.
“It’s like the gold standard,” he said. “Except the gold is in a garbage pile, and the banknotes are… me.”
A Coin Fueled by Spite
While many crypto projects are powered by vision or innovation, Ceiniog is unapologetically powered by rage. Howells’ real goal? To turn Newport into a blockchain hub despite the city council, and possibly out of pure revenge.
“I want to ram crypto down their f*cking throats till they sht it to the f*cking death,” he told Decrypt, in what may be the most passionate crypto mission statement ever uttered.
His dream? When Newport is broke and desperate, he’ll swoop in, buy the landfill, and build a Scrooge McDuck money bin on top. It’s not a metaphor. That is literally his plan.
Backed… How Exactly?
Let’s be clear: Ceiniog tokens aren’t redeemable for the Bitcoin in the ground. Because, well, the private keys are in a landfill.
But Howells insists the Bitcoin is still there, and as long as it remains untouched, Ceiniog has “theoretical value.” Think of it as a meme coin with a backstory more tragic than any docuseries.
“Most ICOs are backed by thin air,” Howells argued. “Mine is backed by garbage.” (He didn’t actually say that. But he could have.)
What’s Next?
Ceiniog’s initial coin offering is planned for late 2025, with early tokens sold at a discount to his ghost-Bitcoin’s current valuation. If enough people buy into the story (and the spite) it could hit his dream market cap of $923 million, making it the 81st biggest crypto.
And somewhere in Newport, the council might just hear the faint echo of “I told you so” carried on a blockchain.
