
The room at the Marriott Marquis in Washington was full of community bankers on Tuesday, and Senator Angela Alsobrooks walked straight into the lion's den. Speaking at the American Bankers Association's annual Washington Summit, the Maryland Democrat delivered a message neither side particularly wanted to hear: everyone involved in the Digital Asset Market Clarity Act is going to have to walk away a little bit unhappy.
It was a remarkably candid thing to say in front of 1,400 people who have spent the better part of three months trying to kill the very provision that's been holding up the bill. But Alsobrooks, along with Republican Senator Thom Tillis of North Carolina, is now the central figure in a late-stage push to get the Clarity Act off the Senate Banking Committee floor and into an actual markup hearing before the legislative window closes for good.
The two senators confirmed Tuesday they're actively working on compromise language around stablecoin yield which keeps coming up as the main issue that has stalled what was supposed to be a landmark piece of crypto regulation.
A Bill In Limbo
The Digital Asset Market Clarity Act, or CLARITY Act, was supposed to have its Senate Banking Committee markup in January. That session got pulled at the last minute. The reason was stablecoin yield, specifically, amendments co-sponsored by Alsobrooks and Tillis that would restrict crypto firms from offering interest-like returns to customers who simply hold dollar-pegged digital tokens like USDC or USDT.
Banks had been lobbying hard against any provision that allowed that kind of reward. Their argument, which they've pushed loudly and repeatedly, is that stablecoins offering yield would function like bank accounts without the regulatory obligations of bank accounts. Executives at JPMorgan and Bank of America have cited Treasury Department modeling that suggested banks could lose up to $6.6 trillion in deposits if stablecoin yield programs went mainstream. Their argument is that it would starve the lending market and ultimately destabilize smaller regional banks that are particularly dependent on deposit funding.
The crypto industry dismisses most of that as fearmongering. Coinbase CEO Brian Armstrong called out the banking lobby publicly for what he characterized as anticompetitive blocking tactics and has pulled his support for the bill. In January at Davos, JPMorgan's Jamie Dimon reportedly told Armstrong he was, in quite colorful terms, wrong. The anecdote leaked out and became something of a symbol for just how personal this fight had gotten.
"We absolutely have to have these protections to prevent the deposit flight, but we're going to probably have to make some compromises." — Senator Angela Alsobrooks, D-Md.
The White House Steps In, Then Gets Rejected
By late February, the White House had grown impatient. Administration officials spent weeks brokering what they hoped would be an acceptable middle ground: allow stablecoin yield in limited contexts, particularly for activity tied to payments and transactions, while banning rewards on idle balances that look more like savings accounts. Crypto firms signed off on the framework. The banks did not.
On March 3rd, President Trump went public with his frustration. In a Truth Social post, he wrote that banks should not be trying to undercut the GENIUS Act or hold the CLARITY Act hostage, a shot across the bow that was notable both for its directness and for the fact that it did essentially nothing to move the American Bankers Association. Two days later, the ABA formally rejected the White House compromise anyway.
The March 1st deadline the White House had set for a resolution passed without published compromise text. Prediction markets, which had briefly priced Clarity Act passage at around 80% odds, fell back toward 55% as the stalemate hardened.
What the ABA rejection didn't do, however, is kill the legislation outright. Congress has passed bills over banking lobby opposition before. The question, as analysts and lobbyists have been pointing out all week, is whether there are enough Senate votes to do it again — and whether the calendar allows the time to find out.
Can We Get A Compromise?
The emerging deal that Alsobrooks and Tillis are proposing is a slimmed-down version of what the White House tried. Under the framework being discussed, yield on stablecoin holdings that closely resemble bank deposits would remain prohibited. But rewards tied to specific activities, like using stablecoins for payments or transactions on a given platform, could remain eligible for some form of customer incentive.
Both senators and many crypto advocates actually agree on the premise that pure holding rewards that look and function like savings account interest are a problem. The dispute is over where exactly to draw the line and how to define the categories well enough that neither side can game them after the fact.
Cody Carbone, the CEO of the Digital Chamber, said this week that Tillis has been very receptive to discussions about stablecoin yield and that he's optimistic the industry can get to yes on the bill. Summer Mersinger, the CEO of the Blockchain Association, noted that the White House weighing in on the negotiations and pushing banks to engage in good faith adds important momentum as talks continue.
The banks have maintained, publicly at least, that those assurances aren't enough. Their representatives at the ABA summit this week underlined again what they see as the risks of any yield loophole to their business model. The question of whether a markup hearing happens in late March or gets delayed again, depends entirely on whether Alsobrooks and Tillis can produce language the committee will actually vote on.
Timing Is An Issue
Behind every conversation about the Clarity Act this week is an unspoken anxiety about time. The Senate calendar is tight. Midterm elections are in November, and lawmakers will start dispersing from meaningful legislating sometime around May or June as campaign season accelerates. Unfortunately it seems, Congress prefers to stop working as they try to convince voters to keep them in their jobs. I know, makes perfect sense. If a markup isn't held and a floor vote isn't scheduled by sometime in April, realistically the bill is looking at the next Congress which could be a completely different party in power. And complicating things even more. Despite which party ends up winning the midterms, this could mean another 12 to 18 months of regulatory uncertainty for an industry that has been waiting years for a clear legal framework.
That timeline matters not just for the crypto industry's domestic ambitions, but for its competitive positioning globally. Under the European Union's MiCA framework, stablecoin yield products that are restricted or banned in the U.S. are already legal in European jurisdictions. Coinbase and others have been explicit about the risk that continued regulatory ambiguity in the U.S. will push capital, talent, and product development offshore. Trump made a version of the same argument in his Truth Social post last week, warning that failure would drive the industry to China.
There's also a strategic Bitcoin Reserve angle sitting quietly in the background. According to people familiar with the situation, the Trump administration has determined it needs congressional action to operationalize the planned Strategic Bitcoin Reserve that the president signed an executive order for over a year ago. That creates at least some White House motivation to see the broader Clarity Act process succeed.
What Happens Next
The Senate Banking Committee is targeting a late-March markup. Whether that happens depends on whether the Alsobrooks-Tillis compromise language satisfies enough members to call the vote. If it does, the bill would then need to be merged with a version that already passed the Senate Agriculture Committee on a party-line vote in late 2025. The combined text would require significant Democratic support to clear a full Senate vote, always a tall ask in the current politcal environment and the fact that seven Democratic senators have separately raised concerns about potential conflicts of interest involving senior government officials, including the president himself, who have financial ties to the crypto industry.
Even if the Senate acts, the bill still needs the House, where an earlier version of the CLARITY Act passed committee last year but has yet to reach the floor. The path to a signed law before November is narrow but not impossible. It requires the Senate Banking Committee to move in the next few weeks, the combined bill to hold together politically, and a Senate floor schedule that is packed with little wiggle room.
For the moment, all of it hinges on two senators and a room full of bankers in Washington D.C., trying to decide how much compromise is actually compromise and if they can all agree to leave a bit unhappy about the results for the greater good. Typically the best compromises do make both sides a bit unhappy. In Washington, that usually means the deal is closer than it looks. It also usually means it's harder than it sounds.

Washington's stablecoin standoff just got a whole lot more personal.
Patrick Witt, the executive director of the President's Council of Advisors for Digital Assets, publicly fired back at JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon on Tuesday, calling his arguments about stablecoin yields misleading and, in Witt's own word, a "deceit."
The exchange marks one of the sharpest moments yet in a months-long tug-of-war between Wall Street and the White House over the future of digital asset regulation in America.
Dimon Draws a Line in the Sand
It started Monday, when Dimon went on CNBC and didn't mince words. His position was simple, if uncompromising: any platform holding customer balances and paying interest on them is functionally a bank, and should be regulated like one.
"If you do that, the public will pay. It will get bad," Dimon warned, arguing that a two-tiered system where crypto firms operate with fewer restrictions than banks is unsustainable.
Dimon suggested a narrow compromise: platforms could offer rewards tied to transactions. But he drew a clear line at interest-like payments on idle balances, saying, "If you're going to be holding balances and paying interest, that's a bank."
The list of obligations Dimon believes should apply is long, FDIC insurance, capital and liquidity requirements, anti-money laundering controls, transparency standards, community lending mandates, and board governance requirements. "If they want to be a bank, so be it," he said.
For Dimon, it's fundamentally about fairness. JPMorgan uses blockchain in its own operations, and the CEO was careful to frame his argument not as anti-crypto but as pro-competition on equal terms. "We're in favor of competition. But it's got to be fair and balanced," he said.
The White House Fires Back
Witt wasn't going to let that stand. In a post on X late Tuesday, he went directly at Dimon's framing, calling it deliberately misleading.
"The deceit here is that it is not the paying of yield on a balance per se that necessitates bank-like regulations, but rather the lending out or rehypothecation of the dollars that make up the underlying balance," Witt wrote. "The GENIUS Act explicitly forbids stablecoin issuers from doing the latter."
The argument gets at something technically important. What makes a bank risky, and therefore subject to heavy regulation, isn't that it pays interest. It's that banks take deposits and lend them back out, creating credit and the systemic risk that comes with it. If too many people want their money back at once, that's a bank run. Stablecoin issuers operating under the GENIUS Act must maintain reserves at a 1:1 ratio. There is no fractional reserve lending, no rehypothecation, no credit creation.
In Witt's view, stablecoin balances aren't deposits, and treating them as such misrepresents what's actually happening. He closed with a pointed equation: "Stablecoins ≠ Deposits."
President Donald Trump didn't stay quiet either. On Tuesday, he took to Truth Social with a message that made his position unmistakably clear.
"The U.S. needs to get Market Structure done, ASAP. Americans should earn more money on their money. The Banks are hitting record profits, and we are not going to allow them to undermine our powerful Crypto Agenda that will end up going to China, and other Countries if we don't get the Clarity Act taken care of," Trump wrote.
Senator Cynthia Lummis quickly reposted Trump's message, adding her own call to action: "America can't afford to wait. Congress must move quickly to pass the Clarity Act."
The same day Trump posted, a Coinbase delegation led by CEO Brian Armstrong visited the White House for talks. The timing was not subtle.
The Real Stakes: The CLARITY Act
To understand why this debate matters so much right now, you need to understand the legislation being held hostage by it.
The GENIUS Act, signed into law in July 2025, established the first federal framework for payment stablecoins. The CLARITY Act is its sequel: a broader market structure bill that would assign clear regulatory jurisdiction to the SEC and CFTC over the crypto industry, and is widely seen as the piece of legislation needed to unlock large-scale institutional participation in digital assets.
The bill cleared the House comfortably but has been mired in Senate gridlock since January, when the Senate Banking Committee indefinitely postponed a planned markup vote. The trigger was Coinbase withdrawing support over a proposed amendment that would have restricted stablecoin rewards for users.
That withdrawal, announced by CEO Brian Armstrong in a post on X the night before the scheduled committee vote, split the crypto industry. a16z crypto's Chris Dixon publicly disagreed, posting "Now is the time to move the Clarity Act forward." Kraken's co-CEO Arjun Sethi also pushed back, writing that "walking away now would not preserve the status quo in practice" and warning it "would lock in uncertainty and leave American companies operating under ambiguity while the rest of the world moves forward."
The stakes for Coinbase are concrete. Stablecoins contribute nearly 20% of Coinbase's revenue, roughly $355 million in the third quarter of 2025 alone, and most of USDC's growth is occurring on Coinbase's platform. Coinbase currently offers 3.5% yield on USDC, a figure most traditional bank accounts can't come close to matching.
Banks Are Scared, and They Have the Numbers to Show It
The banking lobby's concern isn't hypothetical. Banking trade groups, led by the Bank Policy Institute, have warned that unrestricted stablecoin yield could trigger deposit outflows of up to $6.6 trillion, citing U.S. Treasury Department analysis. Bank of America CEO Brian Moynihan put a similar figure forward, reportedly suggesting as much as $6 trillion in deposits, representing roughly 30-35% of all U.S. commercial bank deposits, could be at risk.
Stablecoins registered $33 trillion in transaction volume in 2025, up 72% year-over-year. Bernstein projects total stablecoin supply will reach approximately $420 billion by the end of 2026, with longer-run forecasts from Citi putting the market at up to $4 trillion by 2030. Those aren't niche numbers anymore. At that scale, deposit competition becomes a serious macroeconomic question.
The American Bankers Association and 52 state bankers' associations explicitly urged Congress to extend the GENIUS Act's yield prohibitions to partners and affiliates of stablecoin issuers, warning of deposit disintermediation.
The Bottom Line
What's playing out right now is a genuine philosophical disagreement about what money is and how it should be regulated, wrapped inside a very consequential legislative fight, a prize fight with Banks in one corner and Crypto in the other.
Dimon's argument is not frivolous. Banks are regulated as heavily as they are because of what they do with deposited money, and a world where consumers move trillions into yield-bearing crypto instruments held at lightly regulated platforms carries real risks. The history of financial crises is largely a history of regulatory arbitrage gone wrong.
But Witt's counter is also not frivolous. The GENIUS Act was designed specifically to prevent stablecoin issuers from doing the things that make banks dangerous. A fully reserved, non-lending stablecoin issuer is structurally different from a fractional reserve bank, and applying the same regulatory framework to both risks conflating two fundamentally different business models.
What's harder to square is that the banking lobby's intervention in the CLARITY Act seems, to many in the crypto world, less about prudential regulation and more about protecting market share. President Trump has not been subtle about that read, accusing banks of holding the CLARITY Act hostage to protect incumbent interests against crypto competition.
With the legislative window narrowing, Armstrong back at the White House, and Trump openly calling out the banking lobby by name, this standoff has reached the kind of inflection point where someone is going to have to blink. The question is whether either side is willing to do it before time runs out entirely.

Washington has spent the past several months talking about crypto clarity. What it got this week was something closer to a standoff.
At the center of the latest White House meeting between crypto executives and banking lobbyists was a surprisingly narrow issue that has turned into a major fault line: stablecoin yield.
On paper, the CLARITY Act is supposed to settle jurisdictional turf wars between regulators and create a workable framework for digital assets in the United States. In practice, negotiations have slowed to a crawl over whether stablecoin holders should be allowed to earn rewards.
Crypto companies came to the table expecting to negotiate. Bank representatives arrived with something closer to a red line.
Stablecoin yield sounds simple. Platforms offer incentives, rewards, or returns to users who hold dollar-backed tokens. Sometimes that comes from lending activity. Sometimes it comes from promotional programs. Structurally, it does not always look like a bank deposit.
Banks are not buying that distinction.
From their perspective, if consumers can hold tokenized dollars and earn a return without stepping inside the banking system, that looks a lot like deposit competition. And not just competition, but competition without the same regulatory burden.
Banks operate under capital requirements, liquidity ratios, deposit insurance rules, stress testing frameworks, and layers of federal oversight. Stablecoin issuers, even under proposed legislation, would not be subject to the same regime.
So the banking lobby’s position has been blunt. No yield. Not from issuers, not indirectly through affiliated programs, not in ways that replicate interest-bearing accounts.
The crypto side sees that as overreach.
Publicly, banks frame their opposition as a financial stability issue. If large amounts of capital flow out of insured deposits and into stablecoins offering yield, that could shrink the deposit base that supports lending. In a stress scenario, they argue, the dynamic could amplify volatility.
There is logic there. Deposits are the backbone of bank balance sheets. Disintermediation is not a trivial concern.
But crypto executives are asking a quieter question. If the issue is really about safety, why push for a blanket prohibition rather than tighter guardrails? Why not cap yield structures, restrict how they are funded, or impose disclosure standards?
Why eliminate them entirely?
Some in the industry suspect the answer is competitive pressure. Stablecoins have already become critical plumbing for crypto markets, facilitating trading, settlement, and cross-border transfers. Add yield into the equation and they start to look even more like digital savings instruments.
That begins to encroach on traditional banking territory.
Banks have historically tolerated crypto in its speculative corners. Trading tokens is volatile, niche, and largely outside the core consumer banking relationship.
Stablecoins are different. They are dollar-denominated. They are increasingly integrated into payment systems. They can move across borders faster than traditional rails. And they are programmable.
Now imagine those same tokens offering yield, even modest incentives. The psychological shift for consumers could be meaningful. Why leave idle cash in a checking account earning almost nothing if a tokenized version offers some return and similar liquidity?
To bankers, that is not innovation. That is deposit leakage.
And in a higher rate environment, where funding costs matter, deposit competition becomes more acute.
The CLARITY Act was supposed to resolve long-running disputes between regulators and provide certainty for digital asset firms operating in the United States. Instead, stablecoin yield has turned into the sticking point holding up broader progress.
White House officials have reportedly pressed both sides to find compromise language. So far, that compromise remains elusive.
Crypto firms argue that banning yield outright could push innovation offshore. Jurisdictions in Asia and parts of Europe are moving ahead with stablecoin frameworks that do not automatically prohibit reward structures. The fear in Washington’s crypto circles is that overcorrection could hollow out domestic competitiveness.
Banking groups counter that allowing yield would create a parallel banking system without equivalent safeguards.
The tension is not just technical. It is philosophical.
At its core, this debate is about who gets to intermediate digital dollars.
If stablecoins become widely used and allowed to offer returns, they could evolve beyond trading tools into mainstream financial instruments. That challenges the traditional hierarchy where banks sit at the center of deposit-taking and credit creation.
Banks are not opposed to digital dollars in theory. Many are experimenting with tokenization and blockchain infrastructure themselves. But they want those innovations inside the regulated banking perimeter, not outside of it.
Crypto companies, on the other hand, see decentralization and alternative rails as the point.
So when banks push to ban stablecoin yield entirely, the crypto industry reads it as more than prudence. It looks like an attempt to protect market share.
For now, negotiations continue. There is still political appetite in Washington to pass comprehensive crypto legislation, especially as digital asset markets remain a significant part of the financial system.
But unless lawmakers can thread the needle between stability concerns and competitive fairness, stablecoin yield could remain the issue that stalls everything else.
And that leaves an uncomfortable reality.
If the United States cannot decide whether digital dollars are allowed to earn a return, the market may decide elsewhere.

There’s been a lot of language coming out of Washington lately about stablecoins.
Words like "prudence", "guardrails", and "financial stability" get thrown around whenever the CLARITY Act comes up. Coinbase recently pulled their support amid stablecoin issues in the same bill. But if you take a step back, it’s hard not to feel like something else is driving the intensity of the debate. Big banks don’t usually fight this hard over niche policy details unless there’s something material at stake.
Browsing the web, trying to find my next article for all of you, I came across a recent report from Standard Chartered’s digital assets research team, led by Geoff Kendrick, and it may just help to explain the fight a bit better.
Kendrick’s research doesn’t treat stablecoins as a crypto sideshow. It treats them as a potential alternative home for real money, the kind of money that currently sits in checking and savings accounts. He actually estimated that $500 billion will move from bank deposits to stablecoins by 2028. The idea isn’t that everyone suddenly abandons banks. It’s subtler than that. Even a gradual shift of deposits into stablecoins changes the math for banks in ways they really don’t like. Funding becomes more expensive, liquidity assumptions get weaker, margins get squeezed. Those aren’t ideological concerns. Those are spreadsheet concerns. And spreadsheet concerns really make banks want to fight the issue.
But to understand the real threat to banks, you first have to better understand the business itself. Banks don’t just hold your money. They use it. Under fractional reserve banking, they keep only a slice and lend the rest out to earn interest for themselves. Sure, they'll keep that small portion of your deposit, but the majority gets reinvested through loans and other activities. That’s how they earn money and why they can afford to even pay any interest to you at all, even if it’s usually minimal.
This system works because deposits are assumed to be sticky. People don’t move their money often, and when they do, it usually stays within the banking system. Moving from one bank to another.
Stablecoins challenge that assumption. They make dollars mobile in a way they haven’t been before.
Right now, most stablecoins feel like tools, not destinations. They’re useful for transfers, trading, and crypto-native activity, but they’re not where most people park idle cash. Yield changes that. The moment a stablecoin starts paying something meaningfully better than a traditional savings account, the comparison becomes unavoidable. A digital dollar that moves instantly, works around the clock, and earns yield starts to look less like a crypto product and more like a better bank balance. That’s when stablecoins stop being adjacent to banking and start competing with it.
But, we're still talking mostly about crypto-native people. The real shift happens when stablecoins stop feeling like crypto at all, when they live inside apps people already trust and use every day. When you easily pay for your groceries on your phone without writing down that seed phrase for crypto that sits on a separate wallet that may or may not be linked to payments.
PayPal is already experimenting here. Their Paypal USD (PYUSD) exists inside a platform with hundreds of millions of users, and it already lets people move dollars instantly between PayPal and Venmo for free. That’s everyday payment stuff. It’s not a niche oracles or decentralized exchange use case. It’s peer to peer transfers in apps people use for rent, splitting bills, or sending money to family.
Cash App has also signaled support for stablecoin payments and more flexible money movement options, even if Bitcoin hasn’t become everyday cash yet. The point is simple: If stablecoins actually become integrated into the way regular people pay for things, save for short-term goals, and move money around, they stop being a "crypto thing” and become an alternative store of value and payment rail to banks.
That’s exactly the scenario a bank CFO would find unsettling.
This is why the fight over stablecoin yield inside the CLARITY Act feels so charged. It’s not really about whether stablecoins should exist. That battle is already over. It’s about whether they’re allowed to become a true alternative to bank deposits. If yield stays restricted, stablecoins grow slowly and remain mostly transactional. If yield is allowed under a clear regulatory framework, they start to compete directly with how banks fund themselves. That’s a much bigger shift.
If you take Kendrick’s projections seriously, and I know that I do. I have been in this blockchain industry for a decade now. I have seen the shift from Silk Road and from not even being a second thought in Washington to being a presidential election policy issue and talked about at the highest levels of government, from sea to shining sea.
But pushback from banks does make sense. It’s not panic. It’s defense. Stablecoins that are easy to use, deeply integrated into everyday payment apps, how people spend their money, and capable of earning yield... threaten something fundamental. They threaten the quiet bargain where banks get cheap access to capital and customers accept low returns in exchange for convenience. Seen through that lens, the resistance to stablecoin yield isn’t surprising at all. It’s exactly what you’d expect when a new form of money starts to look a little too good at doing the job banks have always relied on to make money.
I know where I stand on the issue and I'm interested to know what you think. Do banks evolve, embrace stablecoins as inevitability or do they hold on to the old ways for dear life?


If you have spent any real time building, trading, or working in crypto in the U.S., you already know the pattern. The rules are never fully clear. Guidance usually comes after the fact. And “compliance” often feels less like a checklist and more like a guessing game.
That is the environment the Digital Asset Market Clarity Act, better known as the CLARITY Act, is trying to change.
On January 15, 2026, the Senate Banking Committee is scheduled to hold a critical markup session on the bill. That might sound like inside-baseball legislative procedure, but it is not. A markup is where lawmakers decide what a bill really is. Language gets tightened. Loopholes get closed or widened. Entire sections can disappear.
For crypto, this is one of those moments where the future shape of U.S. regulation is actually being decided.
Right now, crypto regulation in the U.S. is reactive.
The laws that exist were written long before blockchains, tokens, or decentralized networks. Regulators have mostly tried to force crypto into frameworks that were never designed for it, often relying on enforcement actions to define the rules retroactively.
CLARITY is an attempt to stop doing that.
The bill starts from a simple premise: not everything in crypto is the same, so it should not all be regulated the same way.
Launching a token to fund a network is not the same as trading that token years later. Writing open-source code is not the same as holding customer funds. Running a wallet is not the same as running an exchange.
Those distinctions sound obvious inside the industry. CLARITY tries to make them explicit in law.
One of the most important ideas in the bill is that a token’s legal treatment should not be locked forever to how it was first sold.
Under the current system, if a token was ever distributed in a way that looks like fundraising, it can carry securities risk indefinitely. Even if the network decentralizes. Even if the original team steps away. Even if the token functions more like a commodity than an investment.
CLARITY tries to separate:
The initial transaction, which may look like an investment contract
The token itself, once it is broadly distributed and actively used
That distinction matters because it opens the door to secondary markets operating without constant legal uncertainty, while still keeping guardrails around early fundraising.
To make that transition possible, CLARITY introduces the concept of a mature blockchain system.
Stripped of legal language, the question is pretty straightforward: does anyone actually control this thing?
If a small group can still unilaterally change the rules, supply, or governance, regulators get more leverage. If control is meaningfully distributed and no one actor is calling the shots, the regulatory burden can ease.
The bill creates a certification process around this idea, with a defined window for regulators to challenge a claim of maturity.
This is one of the most debated sections of the bill. It is also one of the most important. The standard has to be real, but it also has to be achievable. Senate changes here could dramatically affect how useful the bill ends up being.
CLARITY does not remove oversight from token launches. Instead, it tries to make that oversight fit reality.
The bill allows certain token offerings to proceed under an exemption, but only with meaningful disclosures. Projects would need to explain things like:
How token supply and issuance work
What rights, if any, token holders have
How governance actually functions in practice
What the project plans to build and what risks exist
The shift here is away from clever legal gymnastics and toward plain-English transparency. For founders, that could mean fewer surprises and a clearer sense of what is expected.
For U.S. crypto exchanges, CLARITY is largely about secondary markets.
Today, listing a token can feel risky even if that same asset trades freely outside the U.S. The legal line between primary fundraising and secondary trading has never been cleanly drawn.
CLARITY tries to draw that line. If it holds, exchanges would finally have a framework designed specifically for spot crypto markets, instead of trying to fit into rules written for something else.
Another major shift is regulatory jurisdiction.
CLARITY gives the CFTC clear authority over spot markets for digital commodities, not just derivatives. It also creates new registration paths for exchanges, brokers, and dealers that are tailored to how crypto markets actually function.
Importantly, the bill pushes for speed. It directs the CFTC to create an expedited registration process, acknowledging that waiting years for clarity is not realistic in fast-moving markets.
DeFi is where the bill walks a tightrope.
CLARITY says that people should not be treated as regulated intermediaries just for building or maintaining software, running nodes, providing wallets, or supporting non custodial infrastructure. It also makes clear that participating in certain liquidity pools, by itself, should not automatically trigger exchange-level regulation.
At the same time, fraud and manipulation laws still apply.
Supporters see this as long overdue recognition that infrastructure is not the same as custody or brokerage. Critics worry about edge cases, especially where front ends, admin controls, or governance tokens blur the lines.
This is an area where Senate edits could have outsized impact.
The bill also leans toward stronger federal oversight and narrower state-by-state requirements in certain areas.
For companies, that means fewer conflicting regimes and lower compliance friction. For critics, it raises concerns about losing fast-moving state enforcement in an industry that still sees its share of bad actors.
That tension is not going away, and it will likely surface again during markup.
One of the clearest statements in CLARITY is its protection of self custody.
The bill explicitly affirms the right to hold your own crypto and transact peer to peer for lawful purposes. In an environment where indirect restrictions have been a constant fear, putting this into statute is not symbolic. It is structural.
CLARITY also addresses a long-running concern among builders.
The bill says that non-controlling developers and infrastructure providers should not be treated as money transmitters simply for writing code or publishing software, as long as they do not control user funds or transactions.
For many developers, this removes a quiet but persistent legal cloud that has hung over the industry.
The January 15 markup is where all of this either becomes real or starts to unravel.
This is where lawmakers decide how strict the maturity standards are, how wide the DeFi exclusions go, how much authority regulators actually get, and whether the bill delivers usable clarity or just new gray areas.
If CLARITY moves forward in a recognizable form, it becomes the most serious attempt yet to give crypto a durable U.S. market structure. If it does not, the industry likely stays where it is now, building first and hoping the rules catch up later.
This is also the moment where voices outside Washington still matter.
Lawmakers are actively weighing feedback. Staffers are reading messages. Offices are tracking where their constituents stand. Silence gets interpreted as indifference, and indifference makes it easier for complex bills to stall or be watered down.
If you believe crypto should have clear rules instead of enforcement-by-surprise, this is the time to say so.
That means contacting your representatives. Find out who your representative is and where they stand on crypto policy. Tell them that market structure clarity matters. Explain why builders, users, and businesses need predictable rules to stay in the U.S. Explain why self custody, open infrastructure, and lawful innovation should be protected, not pushed offshore.
It also means supporting organizations that are trying to organize that voice.
One such organization is Rare PAC, a political action committee advocating for regulatory clarity, innovation, and economic opportunity powered by decentralized technologies. Rare PAC works to ensure that the United States remains a global leader in those decentralized technologies and supports candidates who are committed to building A Crypto Forward America.
Bills like CLARITY do not pass or fail in a vacuum. They pass because people show up, speak up, and make it clear that getting this right matters.
January 15 is not the end of the process, but it is one of the moments that will shape everything that comes after.