Joe: That famous story about Manhattan being bought for $24 worth of beads? It’s a complete lie. But the real story is far more interesting, and it reveals a fundamental secret about why a diamond is worth more than a car and how desire truly runs the world. Lewis: Hold on, a lie? That’s in every history textbook I ever had. The Dutch show up, hand over some trinkets, and the Native Americans, not knowing any better, give them an island that’s now worth trillions. That’s the whole story! Joe: That’s the story we’re told, but it misses the entire point. And that’s the world we're diving into today with Aja Raden's fantastic book, Stoned: Jewelry, Obsession, and How Desire Shapes the World. Lewis: Aja Raden, right. I remember reading she's not a historian, but an actual jewelry designer and scientist. That's such a cool perspective to bring to this. Joe: Exactly! It's not just academic. She's been inside the industry, she's worked with the materials. It's one of the reasons the book was a huge bestseller; it pulls back the curtain on a world we think we know, but really don't. Lewis: I love that. Someone who actually knows why we go crazy for shiny rocks. Joe: And that Manhattan story is the perfect place to start, because it's the core of her first big idea: value is a collective hallucination.

Lewis: A collective hallucination? That sounds a little dramatic. A gold bar is a gold bar. It has real, physical value. Joe: Does it? Or does it have value because we all agree it does? Raden kicks off with a brilliant thought experiment. What’s more valuable: a flawless, fist-sized diamond, or a fist-sized rock from the moon? Lewis: Oh, the moon rock, no question. It's from the moon! There are, what, a handful of those on Earth? Joe: Precisely. It’s not about beauty or usefulness. It’s about scarcity. Or, more importantly, perceived scarcity. The book argues that what makes a stone a jewel is simply how hard it is to get. Value comes from the story we tell about its rarity. Lewis: Okay, I can see that. It’s like with limited-edition sneakers or vintage cars. The hype is part of the price tag. But how does that connect to something as universal as an engagement ring? That feels ancient, traditional. Joe: That’s the illusion! We think of the diamond engagement ring as this timeless tradition, a practice stretching back to ancient Rome. But Raden just demolishes that myth. The tradition is surprisingly recent and almost entirely manufactured. Lewis: Come on. My grandparents had one. My great-grandparents probably did too. Joe: They probably did, but that’s because of a marketing campaign from the 20th century. The historical precedent, the little seed that was planted, goes back to 1477. It involves Archduke Maximilian of Austria. Lewis: An Archduke. Okay, this sounds promising. Joe: Maximilian wanted to marry Mary of Burgundy. She was the single most powerful and wealthy heiress in Europe. This wasn't a love match; it was the geopolitical deal of the century. To seal it, he needed a powerful symbol. He gave her a ring set with tiny slivers of diamond in the shape of an 'M'. Lewis: Why a diamond? Joe: Because at the time, diamonds weren't just pretty. They were the hardest known substance on Earth. Giving her a diamond ring wasn't a symbol of love. It was a political message. It symbolized permanence, invincibility. It was a promise of an unbreakable alliance. It was basically a medieval power move. Lewis: So it was less "I love you forever" and more "Our dynasty is forever." Joe: Exactly. And because royalty did it, it became a trend among the European aristocracy for centuries. A status symbol. But it was still a niche thing for the ultra-rich. It had nothing to do with ordinary people getting engaged. Lewis: Right, so how did it jump from a 15th-century Archduke to my neighbor proposing at a baseball game? Joe: That’s where the story gets brilliant. Fast forward to the 1930s. The diamond market is in the tank because of the Great Depression. A massive cartel called De Beers, which controlled almost the entire world's diamond supply, was in trouble. People saw diamonds as a waste of money. Lewis: I mean, during the Depression, I’d probably agree. Joe: So De Beers hired an ad agency. And in 1947, a young copywriter named Frances Gerety came up with four simple words that changed everything: "A Diamond is Forever." Lewis: Wow. That slogan. It’s everywhere. Joe: It's considered one of the most successful advertising slogans of all time. It brilliantly linked the diamond's physical permanence—its hardness—with the emotional idea of eternal love. They pushed this idea everywhere. They gave diamonds to Hollywood stars to wear in movies. They sent lecturers to high schools to talk to young women about the importance of diamond engagement rings. They created a story, a new tradition from whole cloth. Lewis: They literally invented the culture around it. They took the Archduke's symbol of power and repackaged it as a symbol of love for the masses. Joe: They didn't just sell a product; they sold an idea. They told people how much to spend—the infamous "two months' salary" rule was their invention too. They created a social expectation so powerful that it feels like an ancient, unbreakable rule. That’s ‘real imagined value.’ The diamond isn't just a rock; it's a story of love, commitment, and status that we've all agreed to believe in. And pay for. Lewis: That is absolutely wild. Okay, so value is a story we tell ourselves. It’s mostly marketing and shiny things. It seems kind of harmless, in a way. Joe: Harmless? That's where the book takes a dark turn. Because when you can't have the thing everyone agrees is priceless, that desire can curdle into something that can topple a kingdom. Which brings us to a necklace that may have started the French Revolution.

Lewis: Okay, that sounds like a massive leap. A piece of jewelry starting a war? How is that even possible? Joe: Because it wasn't just a piece of jewelry. It became a symbol for a nation's rage. The story is so wild it sounds like a Hollywood movie. It’s called the Affair of the Diamond Necklace. Lewis: I’m hooked. Lay it on me. Joe: The scene is 18th-century France. The country is broke, people are starving. Meanwhile, Queen Marie Antoinette has a reputation, fair or not, for being wildly extravagant and out of touch. The public already resents her. Lewis: The whole "Let them eat cake" vibe. Joe: Precisely. Now, enter the players. First, you have the jewelers, who created the most magnificent, absurdly expensive diamond necklace ever made. It had 647 diamonds. They made it for Louis XV's mistress, but he died before they could sell it. So now they're stuck with this priceless albatross. Lewis: A tough spot for a small business owner. Joe: Then you have Cardinal de Rohan. A high-ranking, ambitious, but not-so-bright church official who is desperate to get back into the Queen's good graces. And finally, the mastermind: a con artist named Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy. She's a broke, but brilliant and charismatic, descendant of a former royal family. Lewis: A con artist, a cardinal, and a desperate jeweler. This has all the makings of a disaster. Joe: Jeanne sees her opportunity. She befriends the Cardinal and convinces him that she's a secret confidante of the Queen. She tells him that Marie Antoinette secretly, desperately wants the necklace, but can't buy it publicly because of the country's financial state. Lewis: And the Cardinal believes her? Joe: He's desperate to believe her. Jeanne forges letters from the Queen to the Cardinal. She even hires a prostitute who looks a bit like Marie Antoinette to meet the Cardinal for a few seconds in a dark garden at Versailles, just to hand him a rose and whisper a few words. Lewis: You have got to be kidding me. He fell for a fake meeting in a garden? A Cardinal of the church? Joe: He was completely hooked. Convinced he was acting as the Queen's secret agent, he went to the jewelers and signed a contract to buy the necklace on credit, promising payment in installments. He then hands this priceless necklace over to Jeanne, who he thinks will deliver it to the Queen. Lewis: Oh no. What does Jeanne do? Joe: What any good con artist would do. She and her husband immediately take the necklace, break it apart, and start selling the individual diamonds on the black markets of Paris and London. Lewis: The sheer audacity. So what happens when the bill comes due? Joe: The jewelers, not having been paid, go directly to the Queen. And she, of course, has no idea what they're talking about. The whole scam unravels, and it becomes a massive public scandal. Lewis: But the Queen was innocent, right? So why did it matter so much? This is the part I don't get. Joe: That’s the devastating insight from the book. It didn't matter that she was innocent. The story was just too good. For the French public, who were already primed to hate her, this story confirmed everything they already believed. It was the perfect symbol of a corrupt, decadent, and deceitful monarchy that was stealing from the people to adorn itself with diamonds. Lewis: So the necklace became fake news that fueled a revolution. Joe: Exactly. It wasn't the cause of the revolution, but it was a powerful catalyst. It was the match thrown on a powder keg of public anger. The story of the necklace was printed in pamphlets and spread like wildfire. It destroyed the last shred of legitimacy the monarchy had. It crystallized the public's hatred and focused it on a single, glittering object of perceived injustice. All because of a desire for a shiny object that was never even the Queen's to begin with.

Lewis: Wow. So these stories… the diamond ring, the necklace… they aren't really about the jewels themselves at all, are they? Joe: Exactly. That's Raden's ultimate point. The jewels are just mirrors. The diamond ring reflects our desire for permanence and social status. The necklace reflected an entire nation's rage and its desire for justice. As the book says, 'Real jewels are formed less in the earth or a lab than they are in the human mind.' Lewis: They reflect our desires back at us and show us who we are. That's a powerful thought. It makes you look at every luxury good, every status symbol, completely differently. Joe: It really does. You stop seeing a watch and start seeing a story about precision and success. You stop seeing a handbag and start seeing a story about exclusivity and belonging. The object itself is almost secondary to the story we've all agreed it tells. Lewis: It's a bit unsettling, honestly. It makes you realize how much of our motivation is driven by these invisible, collectively-created narratives. Joe: It is. But it's also empowering. Once you see the mechanism, you can't unsee it. You start to understand the world in a new way. You see history not just as a series of battles and laws, but as a story of human wanting. Lewis: That's a great question for everyone to think about. We'd love to hear your thoughts. What's an object you've desired, and what did it really represent to you? Find us on our socials and share your story. We're always curious to see how these ideas land with you all. Joe: It makes you ask: what objects in my life hold 'real imagined value'? What stories am I telling myself about the things I want? Lewis: A question worth pondering long after the episode ends. Joe: This is Aibrary, signing off.