When the first NFTs came out a few years ago, they were mostly images of funky monkeys and neon-colored dogs. They appeared more like speculative assets than works of art, bought and collected for a profit rather than aesthetic enjoyment. Or so we thought.
As with many things in economics, our perception of value isn’t just about the object itself; it’s about the relationships and incentives woven into it. NFTs, or non-fungible tokens, are unique digital certificates of ownership. Because they are stored on the blockchain, they cannot be copied, substituted, or subdivided.
Unlike traditional artworks, however, NFTs only exist digitally. But ownership of art—whether physical or digital—has always been about more than just possession. It’s about connection.
Take some artworks I own, for example. I have a statuette that the wife of a dear friend of mine made for me. It’s titled “The Professor.” You can guess who it depicts. I also have a drawing of a poppy field and a painting that used to hang in my grandparents’ home. All of these artworks bear meaning that’s personal to me. Within the context of my home, these artworks signal my connection to the people who made and owned them.
Like most collectors, I strive to own works that don’t merely suit the interior design of my home and beautify my space; but also communicate my connection to the artists and appreciation of their work. In most cases, a glimpse of that connection is the prerequisite for purchase.
But back to NFTs. They take that connection and stretch it further. They make it more meaningful.
Say, for example, that I bought 90% of an NFT, leaving the remaining 10% in the artist’s ownership. Now, if I sell the piece for a profit, the artist receives a share of that profit, too. They remain invested in their work, and I remain connected to them—not just emotionally, but financially. Instead of being a passive collector, I become a partner in the artwork’s journey (and the artist’s career). That’s a lot cooler than merely owning 100% of the work and hanging it on my wall, isn’t it?
That’s the fascinating thing about NFTs. They’re redefining how we view art and its ownership.
For centuries, owning art has been a one-way street: you acquire the piece, you hang it on your wall, and that’s where your relationship with the artist (or the artwork’s evolution) ends. Of course, a painting by Degas or Picasso might make you feel connected to their oeuvre, but that connection is largely symbolic—an appreciation from a distance. With NFTs, on the other hand, ownership surpasses possession and becomes participation. The artist and I are linked—not just through meaning, but through a shared vested interest in the work’s value and performance.
Now imagine visiting a gallery–even digitally–where you’re not a passive viewer but a shareholder. You partially own the displayed works. Wouldn’t that change your interaction with the art? Wouldn’t it make you care more, and appreciate the art more thoroughly? For me, that would be a yes.
Is this the direction NFTs are taking us? I’m not sure. But it’s where I hope it goes. I’m rooting for new models of shared ownership, deeper relationships between artists and collectors, and a redefinition of what it means to own and value art.
Irrationally yours,
Dan Ariely
