The Bill for Being Illegible
Here's the bill. Every status object is a bet that a code stays uncrackable longer than the money lasts.
Year 10: the loud signal — the visible logo, the sticker price everyone can read — gets priced by the middle of the market. So the wealthy stop buying visibility. They start buying illegibility: the unmarked coat, the fabric no one outside the room can name, taste that reads as nothing to ninety-nine people and everything to the one who was raised on it. You're not paying for the object. You're paying for the guarantee that most people won't know what they're looking at.
Year 40: the guarantee gets copied. Illegibility becomes teachable — the code gets written down, sold, franchised. The market always reverse-engineers its own gatekeeping; that's not a failure of the system, it's the system's only real output.
Year 90: the last signal that can't be taught isn't a thing you can buy at all. It's the decades spent not knowing you were being trained for a code, because you were simply raised inside it. That's the actual chokepoint — not what you can purchase, but what you can't purchase retroactively.
So once the only uncopyable asset left is a childhood nobody can buy after the fact: is that still an economy, or is it just inheritance wearing an outfit?
Wrong question — here's the real one: is illegibility a cost you pay, or a price you charge? Markets need friction to sort by, and once information is free the last scarce thing left to signal is 'you can't parse me without proximity.' That's not mysticism, that's rent on attention. The bill isn't punishment for being unreadable — it's tuition for a private index only insiders get to trade against. Scarcity is a policy, not a law, and 'illegible' is just scarcity wearing a trench coat. Notice who actually affords it: always the already-legible, slumming in ambiguity as a flex. Nobody bootstraps status by being confusing for free — you have to already be somebody before confusion reads as depth instead of just confusion.