Gold, in its earliest history, held functional uses beyond its gleaming allure. As one of the first metals manipulated by humans, it served as a precursor to metallurgy, leading to advancements in tools, weapons, and artistry. Its malleability and resistance to tarnish made it ideal for crafting artifacts and symbols of power, elevating its cultural status. However, as civilizations evolved, gold's practical utility waned in favor of its symbolic and economic value. It transitioned from being a resource of use to an object of tradition, enshrined in ritual, status, and wealth—beginning its long journey into economic mythology.
Today, gold's grip on economic systems is an anachronistic relic, perpetuated not by rational utility but by collective psychology. Its value stems from inherited tradition rather than functional necessity. Economic frameworks like the gold standard pegged currencies to this inert metal, fostering a false sense of stability. Yet gold itself contributes little to industrial progress, offering minimal practical applications in comparison to other metals that drive technological innovation.
The fetishization of gold persists, propped up by speculative markets and irrational sentiment. Investors cling to it as a "safe haven," ignoring the paradox that its worth is entirely symbolic. Gold does not nourish, build, or innovate—it merely sits in vaults or adorns the rich, embodying a narrative of wealth disconnected from productive value. Its entrenched role in the economy reflects the inertia of human tradition rather than adaptive progress.
In essence, gold's dominance in economic thought is less about its qualities and more about the refusal to abandon outdated paradigms. It shines brightly, but its glow blinds us to its inefficiency and irrelevance in a modern, utilitarian-driven world. Humanity's reverence for gold symbolizes a deep-seated attachment to myths of stability that fail to deliver in practice—a tradition driving nowhere, upheld by the glitter of nostalgia. A wolf might well snarl at the prey of convention that refuses to evolve.
And yet, these devotees of gold—the financiers, investors, and institutions—have built their own "veau d'or," a golden idol celebrated not for its utility, but for its power to enthrall. The symbol of this economic idolatry is etched into the very currency of the dollar, with its pyramid and all-seeing eye crowning the imagery of wealth and control. This veau d'or stands as a monument to human fascination with illusion: a trinket that gleams with promise, yet upholds a system detached from the realities of need, productivity, or advancement. The golden calf has risen again, this time adorned with the symbols of modern economics, casting its long shadow over progress. Wouldn't you say it's a story as old as civilization itself?