James Howells, an IT engineer from Newport in South Wales, says he accidentally threw away a hard drive containing the private keys to 7,500 bitcoins, an amount valued at nearly $300 million at the price referenced in the report. After years of failed requests, he is now offering the city 25% of the value—about $72 million—if officials allow a targeted search of the landfill where he believes the device ended up.
A costly mistake dating back to 2013
According to the report, Howells says the mistake happened in the summer of 2013 while he was clearing out his desk. He had two similar hard drives and accidentally discarded the one that contained the keys to his bitcoin holdings. Once he realized what had happened, he contacted Newport City Council to ask for access to the landfill site where the drive was likely buried.
Those efforts have not succeeded. The council has reportedly been approached multiple times since 2014 about the possibility of recovering the device, but it has consistently refused permission for an excavation. What makes the case stand out is not only the size of the lost bitcoin stash, but also the extraordinary rise in bitcoin’s market value since the hard drive was discarded.
Offer to the city and funding plan
In an attempt to revive the recovery effort, Howells has proposed giving Newport City Council 25% of the bitcoin value. Based on the valuation cited in the article, that would amount to roughly $72 million. He suggested the money could be used as a Covid relief fund for local residents, framing the proposal as a way to create a broader public benefit rather than a purely personal recovery mission.
He also said the project has financial backing. According to his account, a hedge fund is willing to fund the operation, and the parties are prepared to place money in escrow. That detail is meant to address one of the most obvious concerns around such a search: who would pay for an expensive and uncertain excavation effort.
Howells’ proposed search method
Howells argues that the search would not require opening the entire landfill. Instead, he says access to landfill records could help narrow the location down significantly. By identifying the week in which he disposed of the drive, tracing the serial number of the bin involved, and matching that information to a grid reference, he believes the operation could focus on a single, specific section of the site.
He further said the team would use an inflatable structure to create an air-tight seal over the target area in order to reduce the release of landfill gases. In his telling, the search would be engineered, limited in scope, and designed to minimize environmental disruption relative to a full-scale excavation.
Even so, the plan remains highly speculative. Landfill environments are notoriously harsh, and the hard drive has reportedly been buried for years. Howells acknowledges there is no guarantee the device still works. Still, he says he remains hopeful that while the outer casing may have corroded, the internal disk where the data is stored could still be recoverable.
Why the council says no
Newport City Council’s position, as cited in the report, is clear. A spokeswoman said the potential cost of digging up the landfill, storing excavated waste, and treating the material could run into millions of pounds. That cost would come with no assurance that the hard drive would be found, and no certainty that the data would still be intact even if the device were recovered.
The council also said excavation is not possible under its licensing permit. Beyond the legal and regulatory issue, it warned that such work could have a major environmental impact on the surrounding area. That combination of cost, uncertainty, and environmental risk appears to be the central reason officials have repeatedly rejected the proposal.
There is also a liability question. Even if city authorities were willing to consider the request, the practical issue remains: who would bear the consequences if the hard drive were never found, or if it were found but too damaged to retrieve the private keys? The council said it has therefore been explicit that it cannot assist in the matter.
A familiar lesson in crypto self-custody
The story has long resonated in the digital asset world because it highlights one of the defining features—and dangers—of cryptocurrency ownership. Bitcoin is designed so that control ultimately rests with whoever holds the private keys. That structure eliminates reliance on a bank or centralized intermediary, but it also means there may be no recovery path if access credentials are lost.
In practice, stories like this one underscore the operational burden of self-custody. A small mistake in storing or handling keys can have irreversible consequences, particularly when funds are secured on a device that is later damaged, discarded, or forgotten. As bitcoin has appreciated over time, such incidents have become cautionary tales about backup procedures, secure storage, and long-term key management.
Howells’ case is especially dramatic because of the scale involved. What may once have seemed like an old hard drive of limited importance has become, in hindsight, a device allegedly linked to a fortune. But the increase in asset value does not remove the practical obstacles to recovery. The challenge is no longer just technical—it is legal, environmental, financial, and administrative.
What happens next
For now, the outcome remains uncertain. Howells believes he has a sufficiently targeted plan, financial support, and a proposal that would also benefit the local community. The city, however, continues to view the excavation as too costly, too risky, and incompatible with existing rules. Unless that position changes, the hard drive—if it is indeed where he believes it to be—will remain buried.
The case stands as a vivid reminder of the stakes involved in digital asset custody. Whether or not the search ever takes place, the underlying lesson is already clear: in crypto, possession of private keys is everything, and losing them can turn life-changing wealth into an inaccessible number on paper.