Ethereum Foundation "Dissent" Controversy: Two Initiators of the Joint Letter Fired, Lawsuit Reveals the Inside Story

Author | Justin Leroux, GridPlus CEO

Compiled by | Wu Says Blockchain

The content of this article does not constitute any investment or financial advice. Readers are advised to strictly comply with the laws and regulations of their location.

TL;DR

· A newly submitted lawsuit reveals the circumstances behind the departure of several core contributors from the Ethereum Foundation this year. The author believes that co-executive director Bastian Aue prioritized employee obedience to management over Ethereum and its values, requiring employees to sign a commitment to support the "Mandate," otherwise they would be considered to have resigned. A group of 53 employees jointly opposed this practice, and two of the organizers of the joint letter were subsequently fired.

· Former co-executive director and board member Hsiao-Wei Wang pointed out that the concerns raised by employees were crucial to the foundation's future. Vitalik Buterin still supports retaining the controversial seppuku clause and defended the sudden introduction of the signing requirement and subsequent firing decisions.

· The author calls on the board to acknowledge that the ultimatum and the firing decision on April 6 were erroneous and requests the foundation to remove the controversial clause, allowing employees to express dissent publicly. The article concludes by quoting Aue's previous standards for employee resignations, implying that he should also leave the foundation by the same standards.

A lawsuit filed last week filled in key clues explaining why the Ethereum Foundation has seen a series of high-profile departures this year. The "Mandate," which escalated this conflict, explicitly outlined how the foundation's leadership should have acted at the time and what actions are needed now.

In the past few days, I have repeatedly studied this lawsuit, writing this article to share my findings. The lawsuit describes how the foundation has undermined its legitimacy due to its own practices, negatively impacting the entire Ethereum ecosystem.

The Mandate

On March 13 of this year, the Ethereum Foundation released a document titled "The Mandate," describing it as a document that serves as a charter, declaration, and internal action guide. I have read many mission statements, and few have struck me as both sincere and practical, but much of the content of this document is indeed well written. I have been involved in the Ethereum space for over a decade, and the values listed in the document clearly express the principles I uphold in this field. At its core is CROPS, which ensures that Ethereum always maintains censorship resistance, remains open source, protects privacy, and guarantees security.

I write this article because I have always believed that Ethereum and its decentralized technology stack are crucial technologies for safeguarding individual freedom, and they can only reach their full potential with careful maintenance. It is this belief that has shaped my personal life and career around this ecosystem. This also makes this article particularly difficult to write, as the evidence clearly shows that the leadership of the Ethereum Foundation has failed to fulfill this responsibility. I hope to clarify what has happened, why it has caused serious harm to the entire Ethereum ecosystem, and how to correct course moving forward.

At the time of the Mandate's release, a split emerged within the foundation, leading to the departure of several high-profile members and sparking much speculation. It wasn't until Kayleen Fulton, the former head of protocol support at the foundation (most people in the Ethereum ecosystem know her better by her online name Nixo), filed a lawsuit in the federal court of Colorado, USA, that more details became known. This lawsuit filled in key details that had sparked much speculation earlier this year. The lawsuit claims that the new co-executive director Bastian Aue suppressed internal dissent within the foundation, including opinions from some board members, demanding that everyone demonstrate unconditional obedience, despite these practices directly contradicting the Mandate he himself supports.

The Mandate states that the foundation "is not the parent, owner, or ruler of Ethereum." The document also promises: "When we make mistakes, especially significant ones, we will acknowledge them humbly and appropriately, and clearly and openly explain why we have changed our views." It further states: "We hold ourselves to high standards and treat others with goodwill. Resilient systems are built by those who can express dissent clearly without harming others and maintain curiosity under pressure." The document also describes Ethereum as a technology that grants freedom, allowing individuals to escape "power relations imposed without genuine consent or that come with heavy costs for dissent."

The defendants listed in the lawsuit include the Ethereum Foundation's entities in Switzerland and Singapore, two nominal employer service companies, co-executive director Bastian Aue, and Vitalik Buterin. The lawsuit was submitted by the plaintiffs, reflecting their perspective and selection of facts. The foundation has yet to submit a defense. However, much of the content described in the lawsuit is directly drawn from the foundation's own internal communication channels. I know several people who experienced this matter firsthand and have spoken with them. From what I understand, this lawsuit accurately describes the events that transpired.

Just a few days after its release, the Mandate faced a test, and the test came precisely from the practices it espoused: maintaining curiosity under pressure, clearly expressing dissent, and treating others well. Those who most prudently raised objections and most aligned with the Mandate's own standards were fired. As they left, the foundation's culture of openness and collaboration disappeared.

The Seppuku Clause

As I mentioned at the beginning, I generally agree with the content of the Mandate. So why did these individuals, who originally collaborated for a common goal they all valued, end up in conflict over this document?

On page 11 of the Mandate, there is an illustration containing a section titled "Source Code Seppuku License." This license was sourced from the Milady NFT community and was originally a joke. This community makes members of the Bored Ape community look like Rhodes Scholars. The only public source I could find is the Wikipedia page for Remilia, the company behind Milady NFT. This page was created on February 5 of this year, 20 days before the draft of the Mandate was sent to employees. In another context, this would be at most an embarrassing detail and not particularly significant.

This license stipulates that any "author, maintainer, editor, or (re)distributor" who fails to fulfill any commitment in the license or modifies or deletes any part of the license must "commit seppuku with a sword." The foundation added a line below: "If the foundation fails to fulfill its solemn commitment to Ethereum, may the foundation commit seppuku." It was followed by a heart emoji.

Some defended this by saying it was just an ill-timed joke from the leadership, akin to something Michael Scott from "The Office" would say. But a joke should make the audience laugh. The audience here is the foundation's employees. On February 25, board member Aya Miyaguchi sent the draft to employees, asking them to participate in making it a document everyone could agree on. Employees expressed their opinions in writing through the board's own communication channels. Two days after the draft was sent out, Trent Van Epps wrote that this license "must be deleted." By March 2, someone had formally proposed its removal, with 79 employees voting in favor. Some inquired in writing whether signing the document meant they had to commit seppuku. Another employee mentioned that a colleague had committed suicide the previous year. On March 5, Vitalik Buterin told employees that the Mandate was being revised and "there would be significant changes, especially in the areas where concerns were most expressed." At that time, it seemed that the matter would be handled appropriately.

On March 13, the board released the Mandate. The license was left unchanged, made into a small image placed in the footer, using a font similar to Comic Sans, with slanted text and a glitch effect, flanked by cartoon cats. The word "seppuku" was removed from the machine-readable text, making it impossible to find through a page search. Subsequently, the foundation wrote the entire document onto the Ethereum blockchain.

This last detail has been something I have pondered repeatedly. No matter how you view this license, the board had the voting results, written objections, and a week of time, yet they used that week to redesign the layout of the clause. Buterin explained this choice on the day the document was released. He said that while it is entirely possible to adopt a "no one gets offended" stance like Mozilla, "we felt that such a posture of not offending anyone is not the momentum we need right now." As the lawsuit states: "An organization does not spend a week redesigning a clause it considers unimportant."

Vitalik Buterin is a principled and deep thinker, so I find it hard to understand how he could think this series of actions made sense. The objections were posted in the board's own communication channels, where someone mentioned a colleague's suicide. Three days later, he promised significant changes. Yet that joke was ultimately released as is, just in a different style, and put on the blockchain. He is neither indifferent nor cruel, so I can only speculate that he believed "the aesthetic style was intentionally provocative, and that was one of the intentions," or he either misjudged the situation or was swayed by advice contrary to his own values.

The Ultimatum

On March 18, Fulton spoke out in the employee communication channel under her real name. She said, "More than the seppuku or the association with Milady, I care more about the fact that the nearly unanimous opinion was openly ignored and then casually brushed aside." She also stated, "There is almost no trust between the board and other members of the organization."

Co-executive director and board member Hsiao-Wei Wang publicly replied that the issues raised by Fulton "are crucial to the future of the Ethereum Foundation." Another co-executive director, Bastian Aue, responded to Fulton on the morning of March 20, saying, "The time for raising concerns about the Mandate has now passed. It is time for implementation."

Two hours later, the ultimatum was issued. All employees were required to submit a form by the end of Monday. The form provided two options. The first option was: "I personally commit to following the direction set forth in the Mandate, assisting in translating it into well-argued strategies in my area of responsibility, and focusing fully on the key tasks necessary for implementing the Mandate. This commitment takes effect today and lasts until my last day working at the Ethereum Foundation." The second option was: "I am not confident in making the above commitment and would like to apply for additional months of salary and leave the Ethereum Foundation as soon as possible." Anyone who disagreed with this document was asked to "make the only decent decision, to leave the Ethereum Foundation." The form also stated: "Failure to submit the form will be considered a decision to resign."

Some asked why the default option was termination of employment. Aue wrote, "It must default to resignation to ensure that everyone who remains actively commits." Some asked who agreed to include the seppuku pledge. Aue replied, "If you are asking who agreed to put it in, I did."

An engineer asked whether signing the form meant he had to commit seppuku. The response he received was that this pledge was "part of the illustration of the Mandate and, like other elements in it, is a cultural reference. We intentionally chose it but did not intend for it to be taken literally." Later that day, the form was modified to clarify that this commitment "has nothing to do with actual seppuku."

He clearly did not realize how absurd this was: an organization modified the form requiring employees to pledge loyalty, specifically clarifying that the signers did not actually have to commit suicide, while insisting that everyone must sign to keep their jobs.

The next morning, Buterin wrote that the situation came so suddenly, it was intentional: "Such a decisive change is precisely not suitable to be designed by a committee, so this time we took an undemocratic approach to announce it." The submission deadline was later extended by two days, and the signing requirement remained in effect.

Open Letter

At this time, those truly involved in building Ethereum did what the "Mission Statement" advocated. From March 24 to 25, researchers and coordinators from the protocol group drafted a collective response. They were usually responsible for advancing the upgrade process of the Ethereum protocol itself. Tim Beiko, the coordinator of the protocol group and Buterin's direct supervisor, removed management from the drafting channel in advance to allow employees to speak freely. He also reminded everyone: "For various reasons, such as economic and welfare considerations, for many people, resigning is not a viable option."

On March 25, Fulton issued and publicly released the letter in her own name, addressed to the two co-executive directors, the board, and all employees. She coordinated the drafting work with Van Epps. The letter stated:

We agree with the overall direction of the "Mission Statement," but under such conditions, we cannot sincerely make a commitment. We intend to continue contributing to Ethereum according to the values of CROPS and autonomy. We will continue to fulfill our respective duties and will not resign. Many of us signed the commitment to the "Mission Statement" under pressure, fearing for our jobs and livelihoods. We believe they filled out this form under coercion, and the choices made are meaningless.

Among the Ethereum Foundation employees I know, everyone who signed this commitment told me they strongly opposed this practice but wanted to keep their jobs. They were told they had a choice, but what was presented to them was to sign or abandon the career they had been fully invested in. One person I spoke with at the time said that he and the entire team felt "demoralized," and their trust in the foundation's leadership had completely collapsed. For these people, Ethereum was far more than just a job; it was a cause that mattered to them. Yet their opinions were sidelined, and the decision-making power rested with a leader who had just told them that the time for feedback was over.

When the open letter was sent out, 49 people had signed it, eventually increasing to 53, about half of the protocol group. The letter affirmed the direction of the "Mission Statement," rejected making commitments under coercion, and clearly stated that the signers would continue to work. The entire letter did not issue any threats. It almost verbatim reflected the declaration's call to "clearly express dissent without harming others" and "maintain curiosity under pressure." One signer wrote at the time that the letter "gave us back a bit of choice" when employees felt they had lost their autonomy and voice.

Two days later, the ultimatum expired. On March 27, Ouer announced that he would "consider the signatures on the protocol group's open letter as expressions of dissatisfaction with the process and form, while also acknowledging the signers' respective commitments to the content of the 'Mission Statement'." He added, "If I had the chance to do it again, I would definitely handle many aspects differently." He also stated that he "takes this personal responsibility very seriously and wants to ensure that similar incidents do not happen in the future at the Ethereum Foundation." Initially, all 53 signers kept their jobs, and the open letter seemed to have worked.

20 Minutes Can Change a Lot

On April 6, Monday at 8:10 AM, Ouer issued a lengthy statement to all employees explaining how the foundation made decisions. The statement said that employees could raise concerns, "for the decision-makers' reference, rather than trying to exert pressure." "The tone of expression is important, especially in public. If you find yourself getting emotional, you are likely transitioning from giving feedback to exerting pressure." If well-reasoned opinions fail to bring about change and "shake your confidence in the Ethereum Foundation," then "looking for ways to contribute to Ethereum outside the foundation may be better for you, the foundation, and Ethereum."

At 8:30 AM, Ouer fired one of the organizers of the open letter, Trent Van Epps, during a video call, without providing a reason. At 9 AM, he fired Fulton. Seven months prior, Beiko had rated Fulton as "far exceeding expectations" in her performance review and had given her a 21.9% raise.

During the call, Ouer told Fulton that the decision to fire her was his alone. Her "past work performance was good," she had "broad support among colleagues," and he had "not found any shortcomings" in her duties. He refused to explain the reason for her dismissal, only offering to continue paying her a year's salary on the condition that she find work elsewhere. Thirteen days prior, Fulton had informed Ouer, Wang Xiaowei, Miyako Aya, and the Human Operations department in writing that she had been diagnosed with cancer, was beginning treatment, and requested to maintain her current employment relationship. Ouer, Wang Xiaowei, and Miyako Aya did not respond.

That afternoon, Fulton received a severance agreement. The agreement required her to waive all potential claims and included a Singapore arbitration clause. She had only three days to sign, or she would be fired and receive "no severance pay or other benefits." Her health insurance would expire at the end of the month. Among the 53 signers of the open letter, the two who were fired were the ones involved in organizing it.

Within a week, two of the three coordinators of the protocol group were announced to be leaving, including Beiko, while the third began an extended leave. Wang Xiaowei, the co-executive director who had previously stated that the dissent raised by employees was "crucial to the future of the Ethereum Foundation," began her leave on the same day the two were fired and resigned in June. The wave of departures continued until September. By then, the protocol support team had been dismantled, and most of the signers of the open letter had either resigned or been fired.

Regardless of how Ouer viewed the wording of the "Mission Statement," he effectively demanded obedience from employees, while the principles publicly declared by the foundation were sidelined.

When Principles Become Decoration

At that time, as an external observer, I found this to be a perplexing act of self-harm by the foundation. Many respected long-term contributors were forced to leave; some were fired, while others were pressured to the point of being unable to stay. The group of people who had worked alongside me for the past decade and were most invested in this ecosystem suddenly left in droves, with no explanation given to the outside world. Occasionally, someone hinted that they were bound by confidentiality agreements. I could not make sense of the reasons behind it. The records listed in the lawsuit detailed these missing links in the leadership's own words.

About three and a half weeks after the two were fired, Buterin explained the firings to Fulton in a recorded conversation. He admitted that he should have given employees a few weeks to decide but made them respond in three days. Fulton asked him how he would view an organization that immediately fired an employee for organizing an open letter after she informed them of her cancer diagnosis. Buterin did not refute the premise of the question. He said the issue was "what kind of behavior you want to encourage within the Ethereum Foundation," because "if making a fuss can get the desired result, then everyone will know that to change the foundation, you just need to make a fuss internally and externally."

The "Mission Statement" states that Ethereum exists to free people from "power relations imposed without genuine consent, or power relations that come with heavy costs for dissent." Yet the reasons Buterin provided for the firing decision exemplified this power dynamic. The same document also stated that the foundation acts "not based on momentary whims, nor does it exert coercion."

Reading the "Mission Statement" alongside the lawsuit is steeped in irony.

Who Is Truly Responsible?

I have great respect for Vitalik Buterin. He is thoughtful, analytical, and kind to others. But from the beginning, he was better at judging an idea than judging a person.

In my view, he trusted the wrong person at the wrong time. Compared to researchers, core developers, and even Wang Xiaowei, who is both a board member and a co-executive director, Ouer's words were more persuasive to him. Wang Xiaowei had clearly pointed out that this meaningless conflict jeopardized the future of the entire foundation.

Buterin was also involved in this process. He defended retaining the license, justified the aesthetic style when Wang Xiaowei raised objections to it, and stated that the sudden introduction of the signing requirement was intentional. In explaining the firing decision afterward, he also discussed what kind of behavior the Ethereum Foundation should encourage.

Others reading the lawsuit will naturally form their own judgments. Regardless, the actions taken by the foundation are laid bare. Seventy-nine employees requested the removal of a sentence. About half of the protocol group members refused to make commitments under coercion and politely expressed their positions. The board rejected the former request but accepted the latter group's statements in the open letter, only to then fire the two people who drafted the open letter. Whether these actions stemmed from one person's temperament or a collective belief, it was the institution that took these actions. It did so in the name of Ethereum, with Vitalik endorsing it.

How to Correct the Course

I write this article because the foundation once told us how it would act if it made a mistake on significant issues. The way forward is in this passage from the "Mission Statement": "When we make mistakes, especially significant ones, we will also acknowledge our mistakes in a humble and proper manner, and clearly and openly explain why we changed our views and what our current views are."

If the Ethereum Foundation wants to rebuild credibility in front of those who actively participate in building this protocol every day, it should follow the principles of the "Mission Statement," take responsibility for its mistakes, and take concrete actions.

The first step is for the board to issue a statement directly acknowledging three things: issuing the ultimatum was wrong, viewing the collective dissent raised by employees respectfully as a threat was wrong, and firing the two employees on April 6 was also wrong. As early as March 27, Ouer himself had already acknowledged part of this.

Next, the foundation should change the internal culture that suppresses open discussions and various dissenting opinions. The foundation bears the responsibility of maintaining Ethereum and has its own credibility to uphold. It fired a cancer patient without explanation. No matter how much it costs to properly remedy this situation, the foundation's credibility is more important than that cost.

Remove that license from the "Mission Statement" and give employees and the community the respect they should have received from the beginning. That version is permanently recorded on the chain, but a new version can also be put on-chain to show that the foundation's leadership values principles more than demanding blind obedience from protocol builders.

Those who signed the open letter genuinely identify with Ethereum's values and are willing to stand up for them. The foundation once had a group of employees who dared to politely say "no" to those in power while continuing to do their jobs well. Now, many of them have left, which is a loss for the foundation. Those who remain are watching to see what happens next, and everyone building on Ethereum is watching too.

The board owes the remaining employees a promise once made by the "Mission Statement." It should "humbly and properly provide a candid and clear explanation," acknowledge that the ultimatum and the April 6 firing decision were wrong, and take responsibility for the consequences. Only then can the foundation become a place where people can "clearly express dissent without harming others" while keeping their jobs.

Ouer agreed to retain this vow in the officially released "Mission Statement": "If the foundation fails to fulfill its solemn commitment to Ethereum, may the foundation fall on its sword." He once told foundation employees that anyone unable to practice the "Mission Statement" should "make the only decent decision, to leave the Ethereum Foundation." According to the standards he set for others, it is now his turn to make that decent decision.