TL;DR: The way people use DeFi has largely converged. Markets and infrastructure matured, but curiosity turned into caution. Yield shifted from something users underwrite to something they wait to be paid for, and participation narrowed around incentives.
DeFi feels like it’s fading, and I don’t mean that in the dramatic way. It hasn’t stopped working, and it hasn’t stopped evolving. What’s changed is how rarely it feels like you’re stepping into something genuinely new.
I came in during 2017 (the ICO era), when everything felt unfinished and a little unhinged. It was chaotic, but it also felt open. You could still believe the rules were provisional, and that the next primitive might reshape the entire ecosystem.
DeFi summer was the first time that belief turned into something concrete. You weren’t just trading tokens. You were watching market structure take shape in real-time. New primitives weren’t upgrades. They made you rethink what was even possible. Even when things broke, it still felt like discovery, because the system was actively forming.
Today, a lot of DeFi feels like it’s running the same playbook with cleaner execution. The infra is more mature, the interfaces are better, and the patterns are well understood. It still works, but it doesn’t feel like it’s opening new territory as often, and that changes how people relate to it.
People are still building. What changed is the behavior DeFi reinforced.
DeFi became speculative because trading was the first thing people genuinely wanted to do onchain at scale.
In the early days, traders were the first real power users. Once they arrived in size, the system naturally adjusted around their needs.
Traders value optionality, speed, leverage, and easy exit. They do not like being locked in. They do not like risks that depend on someone else’s discretion. Protocols that aligned with those instincts grew quickly. Protocols that asked users to behave differently could still function, but usually only by paying users to tolerate the mismatch.
Over time, this shaped the psychology of the ecosystem. Participation started to feel like something the market should compensate you for, rather than something you do because the product is useful under normal conditions.
Once that expectation forms, people do not grow out of it. They become better at it. They rotate faster, sit in stables longer, and show up only when the deal is obvious. That is not a moral critique. It is a rational response to the environment DeFi created.
Lending is the clearest example of the gap between what DeFi is often described as and what actually scaled.
From the outside, lending implies credit. Credit implies time. It implies someone borrowing for a reason outside the market itself, and someone underwriting that time risk.
What scaled in DeFi was closer to short-term funding. The dominant borrower wasn’t borrowing because they needed duration. They were borrowing because they wanted a position: leverage, looping, basis trades, arbs, directional exposure. People weren’t borrowing because they wanted to hold a loan.
Lenders adapted to that reality. They behaved less like credit underwriters and more like liquidity providers. They cared about exit, wanted to redeem at par, and preferred terms that reprice continuously. When both sides behave that way, the market clears as a money market, not a credit market.
Once a system grows around that preference, building real credit on top becomes structurally hard. You can add features, but you can’t force intent.
Over time, yield stopped being just a return and started becoming justification.
Onchain risk is not just volatility. It includes smart contract risk, governance risk, oracle risk, bridge risk, and the constant sense that something can go wrong in ways you did not model. Users learned that taking these risks should come with visible compensation. That expectation is reasonable.
But it changes behavior.
Capital does not slowly reprice from high yield to normal yield and stay engaged. It leaves. Users keep capital liquid and wait for the next moment where participation is rewarded again.
The result is intensity without continuity. Activity spikes when incentives are on and fades when they aren’t. What looks like adoption is often rented behavior.
When participation only appears during incentivized windows, it becomes difficult to build anything that lasts.
Another change that reshaped everything is trust.
Years of exploits, rugs, and governance failures altered user psychology. Novelty no longer triggers curiosity. It triggers caution. Even sophisticated users wait longer, size smaller, and prefer systems that have survived rather than systems that are better.
This is probably healthy. But it changes the culture. Exploration turns into diligence. A frontier turns into a checklist. The space becomes more serious, and seriousness is not the same thing as charm.
What makes this harder is that DeFi trained users to demand high compensation for risk at the same time that users became less willing to take new risk. That compresses the middle zone where experimentation used to live.
This is where DeFi debates often talk past each other.
If you dislike DeFi, you are not wrong to notice how circular it can feel. Many products serve the same cluster of users, and much of the historical growth came from incentives rather than stable demand.
If you believe in DeFi, you are not wrong either. Permissionless access, global liquidity, composability, and open markets are still powerful ideas.
The mistake is pretending these were ever the same goal.
DeFi did not fail. It succeeded at optimizing for a narrow set of intents. That success made it harder to expand behavior beyond them.
Whether that feels like progress or stagnation depends entirely on what you expected DeFi to become.
DeFi does not get its charm back by recreating DeFi summer. Frontier moments do not repeat.
What fades is not innovation itself, but the feeling that behavior is still changing. Once systems stop reshaping how people use them and focus only on execution, the sense of discovery disappears.
If DeFi is going to feel important again, it has to do the harder thing: create structures that make different behavior rational. Systems where it sometimes makes sense to leave capital deployed. Where duration is something you can understand and exit, not something you reluctantly tolerate. Where yield looks less like a headline number and more like a decision you can actually underwrite.
That version of DeFi will look quieter. It will grow slower. It will not dominate timelines the way past cycles did. That is usually what it looks like when usage is driven by need, not constant incentives.
I’m not even sure this transition is possible without breaking parts of the system people still rely on. That is the real constraint.
DeFi cannot expand its range of behavior without changing who participation makes sense for. Systems that reward speed, optionality, and easy exit will continue to attract users who optimize for exactly those traits.
So the path is clear.
If DeFi keeps rewarding the same behavior it already optimized for, it will remain extremely liquid and permanently niche.
If it accepts the cost of creating a different kind of user, the charm does not come back as hype. It comes back as gravity: the quiet force that keeps capital in place even when nothing exciting is happening.





