Well, bitcoin is a currency. Bitcoin has no underlying rate of

“Well, bitcoin is a currency. Bitcoin has no underlying rate of return. You know, bonds have an interest coupon. Stocks have earnings and dividends. Gold has nothing, and bitcoin has nothing. There is nothing to support the bitcoin except the hope that you will sell it to somebody for more than you paid for it.” — John C. Bogle

In these words, John C. Bogle, the father of the modern index fund, speaks not merely of finance, but of truth and illusion, of substance and shadow. His statement pierces through the fever of speculation like a sword of reason cutting through mist. For in an age where men chase digital phantoms and call them fortune, Bogle reminds us of the ancient law: that wealth must rest upon creation, not on the mere expectation of greater fools to come. To seek return without foundation, he warns, is to build castles upon the clouds — magnificent to behold, but destined to vanish when the wind shifts.

The ancients would have called such wisdom the virtue of prudence, the golden mean between fear and folly. They knew that the harvest belongs not to those who merely hope, but to those who sow and tend the soil. When Bogle says, “bitcoin has no underlying rate of return,” he is not scorning innovation — he is reminding us of the eternal principle that value must spring from labor, production, and utility. Bonds yield interest because they lend life to enterprise; stocks share in the fruits of human endeavor. But the promise of something for nothing, no matter how dazzling its form, has ever been the siren song that lures civilizations toward ruin.

History bears witness to this truth. Recall the Tulip Mania of seventeenth-century Holland, when even the humblest bulbs were sold for the price of houses. Traders and merchants, drunk on dreams of endless profit, bought and sold flowers they never saw, believing the price would forever rise. But when faith gave way to fear, the market collapsed like a mirage dissolving at dawn. Lives were ruined, families destroyed, and the proud merchants of Amsterdam learned, as Bogle teaches still, that hope without substance is folly, and value without foundation is illusion.

To say that “bitcoin has nothing” is not to deny its technological marvel, but to question its soul — for money, to endure, must serve more than desire. It must be a vessel of trust, a symbol of the labor and faith of a people. When a currency becomes untethered from production, from the shared confidence that sustains real exchange, it ceases to be a tool and becomes a gamble. And though gambling may thrill the blood, it builds nothing lasting. The wise understand that what is easily gained is often easily lost, while what is earned through patience and discipline endures through generations.

John C. Bogle himself lived by this creed. He built not through speculation, but through stewardship — creating the index fund, a vessel through which millions of ordinary people could share in the steady fruits of the market. He taught that investing is not about speed or luck, but about ownership, discipline, and faith in human enterprise. To him, each dollar was a seed to be planted in the soil of real companies, where workers, dreamers, and builders together brought forth value. His life was proof that wisdom and integrity can outlast the glitter of greed.

The ancients would say: “The fool chases gold that glimmers; the wise man tends the fire that warms.” So too, the modern world must learn anew to discern between appearance and essence, between price and worth. The fever of speculation is eternal — it changes form but not spirit. Whether it be tulips, gold, or bitcoin, the temptation remains the same: to seek gain without creation, to confuse movement with progress, and to mistake excitement for enlightenment. But as Bogle warns, all illusions end, and only truth remains standing when the storm has passed.

Lesson:
Let this teaching be carried like a lamp through the darkness of false wealth: true value is born from purpose, not from price. Seek not the fortune that glitters but the one that grows — the fortune of skill, virtue, and patience. Let your labor create, your savings sustain, and your investments serve. Beware the winds of speculation, for they promise wings but deliver only smoke. Build, as Bogle built, upon the rock of reason and the soil of real work. For in the end, when the markets roar and then fall silent, it is not the gamblers who remain — it is the builders, still standing, whose works speak quietly but forever of substance, faith, and truth.