The price of everything – and the value of nothing

Now that they’re taking small copper coins out of circulation, perhaps it’s time to re-evaluate just what qualifies as currency – and why we covet goods that are actually utterly useless to our daily existence.

Why, for example, is gold worth so much when nobody ever spends it?

Grand – you’re happy to cough up for an engagement or wedding ring, or the odd bit of sparkling jewellery for a special occasion.

But presuming you’re wealthy enough to even worry about this, what earthly good is a gold bar to you, other than to give you something else to concern yourself with in the event of a burglary?

Would you take it out and admire it – or use it as a doorstop just to show how ostentatious you are since you hit the Euro millions jackpot?

In its defence, at least gold is recognised as a form of international currency, something that holds its value while real money goes up and down – but who can explain why do people spend fortunes on rare cases of wine that they'll never drink?

Surely the whole joy of fine wine is to savour it – not to leave it hidden on a dusty shelf away from prying eyes or thirsty wives, but opened, breathing and ready for a big glass?

Otherwise it’s like allowing a child into a sweetshop, but insisting on them wearing a straitjacket.

And then there’s the mysterious world of high art, where millions are spent on works that might have been crafted by the paint-clad paws of a pup chasing a kitten.

Why is it are paintings worth so much more over time that they ever were when the actual artist sold them?

Is it that the buyer sees something that everyone – the original artist included – missed in the first instance….or is it just another form of currency?

The sad thing is that those who own masterpieces rarely display them; they are hidden in a vault or loaned to a gallery, so you end up paying a fortune for something that you never see.

Which is an experience the rest of us can only relate to when it comes to rearing children.

But if you get more pleasure from that famous poster of the female tennis player scratching her bottom than you do from some abstract curiosity produced by the latest enfant terrible of the art world, does that automatically make you an ignoramus?

Take it a step further – when did half a dead cow floating in formaldehyde come to be worth a multiple of a thousand live ones that might at least provide you with decent steaks or burgers?

The truth is that they are all seen, not for their taste or aesthetic value, but rather as a new form of currency; something that appreciates in worth for reasons not entirely known to the rest of us.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.