I re-calculated the token issuance schedule for @Dusk from scratch, and finally I understand why looking only at the “maximum supply of 1 billion” makes it easy to misread $DUSK .
It wasn’t 1 billion from the start. The initial supply is 500 million, with another 500 million planned to be released through block issuance over 36 years, following a geometric curve that halves every four years. The first four-year cycle issues a total of about 250.48 million, roughly 19.8574 DUSK per block; then it halves sequentially.
The initial allocation was fully unlocked in April 2022, so what matters now is not a team vesting calendar but long-term consensus emissions.
Many people see halving and automatically apply a scarcity narrative, but it’s not that simple here.
Each block’s reward consists of the newly issued tokens plus that block’s transaction fees. Under the official rules, the block producer gets 70%, and may also receive up to another 10% based on the credits in the certificate. The development fund gets 10%, the validation committee and approval committee each get 5%, and any remaining portion is burned. The use of that money via #dusk is to fund block production, validation, approval, and long-term development—not just to pay interest to token holders.
The highlight is that the accounting is written long enough that the 36-year safety budget won’t suddenly run out. The issue is also exactly this: if real transaction fees don’t take off, then early node rewards are still mainly covered by newly minted tokens. A high staking ratio increases the cost of attack, but it can also continuously funnel large issuance toward a small number of big nodes. The displayed high APR, if you deduct the network’s supply growth, gives token holders a completely different real dilution experience.
There’s another detail that’s often mixed together: native DUSK has 9 decimal places, while old versions on Ethereum and BSC have 18. During migration, it’s rounded down to the smallest unit LUX. If you don’t separate versioning, bridging, and circulation statistics, it’s easy to lump “issuance amount, cross-chain representation, and tradable supply” into the same bucket.
So next, I don’t want to look at a standalone APR curve. I’ll compare, at the same time: the ratio of per-block transaction fees to rewards, active staking concentration, where the development fund flows, migration progress between native and external versions, and how much gas is actually consumed by real applications.
What tokenomics fears most isn’t simply having emissions—it’s emissions that can’t be bought with real usage. Once transaction fees can gradually take over from subsidies, the long-term halving will be the transition plan for the safety budget. Otherwise, even a very pretty curve is just pushing the demand problem to the future.
It wasn’t 1 billion from the start. The initial supply is 500 million, with another 500 million planned to be released through block issuance over 36 years, following a geometric curve that halves every four years. The first four-year cycle issues a total of about 250.48 million, roughly 19.8574 DUSK per block; then it halves sequentially.
The initial allocation was fully unlocked in April 2022, so what matters now is not a team vesting calendar but long-term consensus emissions.
Many people see halving and automatically apply a scarcity narrative, but it’s not that simple here.
Each block’s reward consists of the newly issued tokens plus that block’s transaction fees. Under the official rules, the block producer gets 70%, and may also receive up to another 10% based on the credits in the certificate. The development fund gets 10%, the validation committee and approval committee each get 5%, and any remaining portion is burned. The use of that money via #dusk is to fund block production, validation, approval, and long-term development—not just to pay interest to token holders.
The highlight is that the accounting is written long enough that the 36-year safety budget won’t suddenly run out. The issue is also exactly this: if real transaction fees don’t take off, then early node rewards are still mainly covered by newly minted tokens. A high staking ratio increases the cost of attack, but it can also continuously funnel large issuance toward a small number of big nodes. The displayed high APR, if you deduct the network’s supply growth, gives token holders a completely different real dilution experience.
There’s another detail that’s often mixed together: native DUSK has 9 decimal places, while old versions on Ethereum and BSC have 18. During migration, it’s rounded down to the smallest unit LUX. If you don’t separate versioning, bridging, and circulation statistics, it’s easy to lump “issuance amount, cross-chain representation, and tradable supply” into the same bucket.
So next, I don’t want to look at a standalone APR curve. I’ll compare, at the same time: the ratio of per-block transaction fees to rewards, active staking concentration, where the development fund flows, migration progress between native and external versions, and how much gas is actually consumed by real applications.
What tokenomics fears most isn’t simply having emissions—it’s emissions that can’t be bought with real usage. Once transaction fees can gradually take over from subsidies, the long-term halving will be the transition plan for the safety budget. Otherwise, even a very pretty curve is just pushing the demand problem to the future.