In this ambitious and groundbreaking history of the dollar, financial journalist and economic scholar Brendan Greeley makes a new argument about the origins of our money—and the people and nations who have surrendered to it.
America’s money is global money—nearly every nation in the world writes international contracts in dollars, and in 2023, central banks around the world held nearly $6.7 trillion in dollar reserves, three times any other currency. Today, the United States’ global hegemony rests largely on its ability to produce unlimited treasury bonds that are sold around the world, dollars that supported America’s explosive growth in the twentieth century and funded its massive wars in the twenty-first. American power and the American dollar have become synonymous.
Yet in this brilliant 500-year history, Brendan Greeley argues that America’s sovereignty over the dollar is an illusion—that the dollar had already empowered and destroyed nations long before it washed up on colonial shores, and that no country or king has or can ever truly control it. Reaching back to the dollar’s birth as the taler in the 15th-century silver mines of St. Joachimsthal, Greeley reveals how the dollar first thrived as a commodity for merchants and bankers—a big, silver coin that was trusted around the world, even as the miners who pulled it from the ground had trouble getting paid in that same silver. Greeley traces a captivatingly complex path across time and place, from the industrial collapse at the heart of Spain’s 17th-century silver empire, to the birth of American paper dollars in colonial Maryland, 19th-century New Orleans bank failures, and the small town of Hawarden, Iowa, which created its own dollars during the Great Depression. At every surprising turn, Greeley upends assumptions about global currencies and draws out the centuries-old tension between how dollars are manufactured and whom they actually serve.
Singular in its breadth, The Almighty Dollar dismantles the myth that America created or has ever truly controlled the dollar. Through meticulous research and vividly rendered stories of merchants, monarchs, and everyday people both past and present, Greeley shows how the dollar became America’s greatest export, spawning a vast financial industry that enriches the wealthy, even as the rest of the country’s industries suffer.
Brendan Greeley has spent twenty years as a journalist, covering economic and monetary policy. He was the US economics editor at the Financial Times and continues to write a regular column there. Before that, he was a staff writer for Bloomberg Businessweek and The Economist, as well as an anchor and correspondent for Bloomberg TV. He has also written for The New York Times, The New York Times Magazine, and The Wall Street Journal Europe, and received a New York Press Club Award for special event reporting. Brendan graduated from Tulane University with honors in German. He is currently completing a PhD in financial history at Princeton University.
I've heard a bunch of unrelated and vaguely conspiratorial theories about money over the years: Only precious metal is valuable, fiat is fragile, the american revolution was about monetary policy, Eurodollars are the real drivers of global finance and the fed doesn't control them, adding up dollar transactions is impermissble trickery, etc. This book subsumes them all into a coherent and sensible complete story totally compatible with the mainstream. How fun! Most importantly, left me more interested than when I started
The Almighty Dollar: 500 Years of the World’s Most Powerful Money is a forthcoming work that traces the evolution of the dollar from 16th-century Europe to its status as the modern world’s reserve currency. Blending narrative storytelling, illuminating vignettes, and technical economics, author Brendan Greeley—a PhD student at Princeton and former columnist at the Financial Times—argues that the tradition of the dollar as a transactional instrument predates the establishment of the United States. With a rich heritage as a medium of commerce and empire-building in Europe, America did not create the dollar, Greeley writes. Rather, “America succumbed to the dollar.”
Greeley charts the history of the dollar chronologically, from its European origins to the modern U.S. currency system. Beginning in the silver mines of 16th-century Bohemia, clunky silver coins—called “Joachimsthalers” after their place of minting and later shortened to “thalers”—were used to pay investors and financiers and soon circulated widely in trade across Europe and eventually the world. The Habsburg Empire adopted silver dollars as a trading currency, facilitating imperial expansion. With the Age of Empire, silver mining shifted to the Americas, where mines in Mexico, Peru, and Bolivia supplied much of the world’s silver coinage.
By the 18th century, Greeley shows, silver coinage was gradually supplemented—and in many cases supplanted—by a more fragmented system of “imaginary money”: bills of credit, promissory notes, and book credits written on scraps of paper and passed from hand to hand. He also describes the growing involvement of states in money creation, including attempts by the colonial government of Maryland to issue currency without violating the Currency Act of 1764, backing new Maryland dollars with commitments tied to shares in the Bank of England.
The second half of the book traces the continued evolution of money from metal to paper notes and eventually to bank deposits. Using the example of New Orleans’s issuance of municipal dollar notes—effectively bonds—in 1842, Greeley illustrates how silver dollars became bank dollars, as commercial banks gained the authority to issue their own currency. He examines national efforts to expand federal paper money during the Civil War through “greenbacks,” followed by the establishment of the gold standard and the effective end of silver coinage. Finally, Greeley recounts the dollar’s transformation from circulating banknotes to ledger-based bank deposits, marked by the creation of the Federal Reserve System, the Bretton Woods Agreement, and ultimately the end of gold convertibility. With these developments, he completes the long arc of the dollar’s evolution.
Greeley acknowledges that he initially set out to learn where the dollar had come from, but the project expanded into a broader account of how currency evolved from metal to paper to deposits—and ultimately into the world’s dominant reserve currency. The history is engaging and accessible without being exhaustive. At times, it reads as the author’s intellectual self-discovery, a personal inquiry that gradually widens in scope. As a result, the narrative is somewhat unbalanced; the pre–bank dollar history (Part I) is more richly developed and filled with vivid vignettes, while the latter sections read more like passages from an economic history textbook. The book also falls short of providing a comprehensive account of the modern era, offering only glancing mentions of new forms of digital currency, including cryptocurrencies and stablecoins.
Nonetheless, Greeley’s account ambitiously uncovers the humble origins of today’s dominant currency—from European silver and Carolingian classifications to colonial American adaptations and, eventually, centralized national control and global dominance.
Thanks to NetGalley for providing me an advance copy of this work.
The Almighty Dollar is an engaging and accessible history of how the U.S. dollar became the world’s dominant currency and why it remains at the centre of the global financial system. Greeley links money, politics, trade, and American power, making complex topics understandable to non-specialists. The book is written for a general audience rather than economists, and therefore prioritises narrative and storytelling over analytical depth. A worthwhile introduction to the subject, though readers seeking rigorous economic analysis will need to look elsewhere.
A Promise with a Door Brendan Greeley’s “The Almighty Dollar” follows the world’s most powerful money from silver mines to swap lines – and asks who gets let through. By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | May 2nd, 2026
“A Promise with a Door” – a Hopper-inspired watercolor still life of coin, paper, table, and window, distilling Brendan Greeley’s “The Almighty Dollar” into a quiet meditation on money as memory, material, promise, and access.
Brendan Greeley opens “The Almighty Dollar” by removing the shine from his own title. This is not a book that burns incense before the dollar, nor one that stands graveside waiting for collapse. It is stranger, drier, and more useful than either pose. Greeley’s dollar is not a flag, not a talisman, not a single object.
It is a hierarchy of promises with different rescue plans: some minted, some printed, some insured, some hazarded, some copied offshore, some saved when panic arrives, some left to see whether memory, habit, and trust will hold.
Begin at the counter. After Hurricane Irma, Amanda Burke opens a Sunshine Ace in Bonita Springs before the large chains are ready. The power is out. The internet flickers. Customers need tarps, tools, batteries, water – all the inelegant nouns of emergency. She takes checks, partial cash, whatever can be made to work. Sometimes, for trusted customers, she lets a few dollars rest on memory until next time. Greeley calls these “Amanda dollars,” and the phrase is not cute trim on a serious argument. It is the book’s theory at countertop height. Money is not only what the sovereign recognizes or the central bank supplies. Money is what gets accepted, remembered, recorded, and settled so the roof can be patched, the generator bought, the register closed.
“The Almighty Dollar” begins from the provocation that America did not invent the dollar and does not fully control it. That correction matters, but it is not where the book does its finest work. Greeley is less interested in whether the dollar is powerful than in the practical questions power tends to hide: who can spend it, who can borrow it, who can copy it, who can transfer it cheaply, and who gets rescued when a dollar-like promise begins to fail.
Greeley gives the dollar three lives. First, metal: the silver mines of St. Joachimsthal and the Spanish piece of eight. Then bank money: colonial Maryland paper, New Orleans bank notes, Depression-era scrip in Hawarden, Iowa. Then crisis money: eurodollars, Federal Reserve swap lines, stablecoins, pandemic lending, and the hardware-store credit Amanda Burke extends when official payment goes dark. That much cargo should shift. At moments, it does. Yet Greeley’s best proofs fit in a cash drawer. Again and again, he finds money at the instant it jams. Cards fail. Deposits vanish. Banks close. Cash runs short. The person at the counter still needs the transaction to pass.
The design looks almost too tidy for the unruly thing it contains: Part I, “The Silver Dollar”; Part II, “The Bank Dollar.” But Greeley, a reporter with a long fuse and a short tolerance for monetary haze, keeps the outline from doing the thinking. In the first movement, the dollar begins with metal: extraction, weight, mining law, investor claims, copied coins, and labor conflict. The joachimsthaler is not a quaint ancestor of American money. It is a reminder that the dollar starts in a Bohemian mine, not an American mint, and that large silver coins can serve merchants and investors beautifully while workers still face the petty-money problem of being paid in usable form.
Spain turns the coin into imperial weather. Silver circulates globally; the coin travels; the polity pays. Greeley is drawn to the damage around that victory: Toledo’s decline, Castile’s dependence on imports and debt, the eerie possibility that a currency can become indispensable while the society attached to it loses productive strength. This is one of the book’s most useful historical mirrors. Currency success can hide civic failure. Money can travel brilliantly while the state that claims it becomes less able to say what the brilliance is for.
That mirror gives the book one of its quiet warnings. The dollar’s triumph is never just the triumph of the people who stamp, issue, bank, or brag about it. A coin can become useful elsewhere while its place of origin absorbs the cost. A reserve currency can make borrowing feel like strategy. A state can mistake the world’s appetite for its assets for evidence of its own wisdom. Greeley does not belabor the analogy, but he lets it glint: monetary privilege can be a resource, a temptation, and a narcotic in the same polished coin.
The American chapters refuse the pageant version of origin. Colonial Maryland needs money before the United States can dress the dollar in national myth. People use paper, book credit, tobacco notes, bills of exchange, and every workable fiction with a number attached that local life can bear. The practical muddle is the point. Before money becomes doctrine, it is a problem at a desk, a counter, a wharf, a press, a ledger. Someone owes. Someone waits. Someone writes it down.
In New Orleans, silver dollars become bank dollars through machinery with grease on its hands: bank notes, panics, sugar finance, property banks, slavery, speculation, and collateral with a human body underneath it. Bank money is not unreal. That is the unsettling part. It becomes real through institutions, law, violence, property, memory, and trust. Greeley’s account is strongest when it refuses to let the elegance of financial form erase the brutality of what helped secure it.
Greeley is at his best when he refuses to let abstraction turn to vapor. He likes doors, counters, machines, routes, pickup trucks, branch offices, and pieces of paper that either work or do not. A Federal Reserve cash depot near Doral becomes less a temple than a factory. Shrink-wrapped bills, wheeled containers, counting machines, notes shredded and shot through pipes: the dollar here has no time for mysticism. Cash is not a green sacrament. It is ordered, moved, counted, destroyed, replaced. That distinction between money creation and money production lets Greeley strip the dollar of official incense without stripping it of fascination. His prose has the snap of a lucid explainer who distrusts the fog machine.
The sentences are brisk, usually medium-length, and reportorial, with a wry flick when the subject threatens to become too well behaved. Greeley can move from reserves, liabilities, swap lines, and deposits to a hardware-store line or a banker’s truck without changing registers. His style keeps saying, in form as much as content, that the dollar is never only a theory. It has loading bays, vault doors, branch lobbies, databases, armored trucks, and people waiting in line because the generator, the roof, the payroll, or the rent cannot wait for monetary philosophy to finish its coffee.
This is where Greeley slips away from the familiar shelf of dollar anxiety. Paul Blustein’s “King Dollar” and Kenneth Rogoff’s “Our Dollar, Your Problem” are useful neighbors for readers thinking about reserve-currency power, but Greeley’s deeper kinship is with books that make money less obedient: David Graeber’s “Debt: The First 5,000 Years,” Christine Desan’s “Making Money,” and Rebecca L. Spang’s “Stuff and Money in the Time of the French Revolution.” Like them, he treats money as legal instrument, social habit, material object, and political bargain. Unlike them, he writes with a financial reporter’s impatience for institutional mist. A dollar either clears or it does not. The poetry is in the plumbing.
Greeley’s best feat is making the dollar plural without letting it turn into metaphor alone. A dollar can be a silver coin, a bank note, a deposit, an offshore liability, a Treasury-backed asset, a $100 bill in a foreign safe, a stablecoin, a pandemic loan, or a store credit extended on trust. These are not the same thing, and Greeley generally does not pretend otherwise. He sees them as related by function: usable claims that let transactions move.
The question is rescue. Which promises become safe when panic arrives? Which are insured, backstopped, or honored? Which remain local, improvised, and fragile?
That question gives the book its pressure around access. Greeley is not misty-eyed about little money, but he is usefully impatient with its neglect. The pattern repeats across centuries: large-market money gets theory written for it, infrastructure built for it, rescue arranged around it; low-dollar money is asked to make do. Merchants, investors, central banks, and financial markets get liquidity and elaborate vocabulary. Workers, small businesses, unbanked households, and people trying to move modest sums get fees, delays, bad luck, and a sermon about efficiency. The old problem of petty coins returns in modern dress as the problem of low-dollar payments, payday loans, inaccessible bank accounts, and relief programs that require a banker who knows your name before help can arrive.
The epilogue changes the book’s stakes by refusing to end with geopolitical swagger. After silver, empire, bank notes, deposits, and offshore markets, Greeley returns to the pandemic and to Darryl Jorgenson, a community banker in Grand Forks. During the Paycheck Protection Program, Jorgenson and his bank help small businesses navigate loans that larger institutions often processed unevenly or slowly. The scene is warm because it is practical: phone calls returned, documents driven around town, a banker making a federal program legible to people who need money before theory catches up. Relationship banking can be humane. It can also reproduce geography, race, class, and chance. If you know a Darryl, the dollar moves. If you do not, the almighty can stay strangely out of reach.
That is the book’s sharpest reversal. Dollar supremacy is not the same as democratic access. America can sell staggering quantities of Treasurys, supply $100 bills to the world, tolerate offshore dollar creation, and extend swap lines when global markets seize. It can be, in Greeley’s memorable formulation, the Saudi Arabia of money. Yet at home, ordinary access to usable dollars can still depend on whether a bank answers the phone, whether a relief system has your account information, whether a store manager recognizes you, whether your neighborhood is profitable enough to serve.
The risk of the design is that resemblance sometimes has to do a great deal of work. Amanda dollars, joachimsthalers, Spanish pieces of eight, colonial bills, New Orleans bank notes, Hawarden scrip, eurodollars, stablecoins, and Fed swaps illuminate one another, but they are not always comfortable in the same room. A store credit after a hurricane is not an offshore dollar deposit. A stablecoin is not a silver coin. A Treasury security is not a bartender’s trust in a regular customer. The unease is part of the charge, but it remains unease. The book’s best idea depends on keeping these forms close enough to spark without pretending the sparks make them identical.
There is some crowding, especially when the epilogue turns toward the present. Crypto, stablecoins, dollar displacement, public debt, current-account deficits, renminbi anxiety, swap lines, and American fiscal choices all arrive at a quick-footed pace. Much of it is persuasive. Some of it wants more room. Greeley’s strongest mode is place-based: Joachimsthal, Toledo, Maryland, New Orleans, Hawarden, Grand Forks. His more vulnerable mode is the compressed present-day aside, where the argument remains smart but occasionally tries to usher several unruly policy guests through one narrow door.
That is a risk of the design, not a fatal weakness. “The Almighty Dollar” crackles because it has too many live wires, not too few. Greeley’s voice keeps the machinery from sealing shut. He writes as someone who has reported on the Fed, wandered through archives, talked to bankers, read the economists, and retained enough humility to admit when a story did not reveal its meaning to him until later. That humility matters. It keeps the book from becoming a grand theory of everything that jingles, prints, clears, or defaults.
The book’s contemporary force comes from its skepticism toward the comforting fiction of neutrality. Andrew Brimmer, one of Greeley’s crucial figures, understood that credit allocation happens whether policymakers admit it or not. Money always travels through channels. The question is whether those channels are designed with public purpose or left to inherited convenience. That is why the book speaks naturally to stablecoins, payment rails, public debt, bank access, financial rescue, and dollar anxiety without becoming a warmed-over policy column. It is not primarily reactive. It is diagnostic. It shows why supposedly new monetary arguments often arrive wearing old problems in new hardware.
The writing is not lyrical by ornament; its music is procedural. A dollar becomes vivid because it has to pass through a cabinet with doors on both sides, or sit in a wheeled container, or be shredded through a pipe, or be promised by a hardware-store manager who knows that twenty dollars is about as far as trust should go before things get messy. Greeley’s style shapes meaning by refusing enchantment. The dollar is powerful enough. It does not need candles.
Readers wanting a clean prediction – collapse or continued reign – may find the book’s answer both annoying and persuasive: the dollar is likely to endure because there are too many dollar claims, too many habits, too many liabilities, too many institutions trained to prefer it, and too many crises in which the Fed has taught the world that dollar systems will be protected. That is not exactly triumph. It is a world trained to expect dollar backstops.
Readers wanting the dollar to remain a simple villain or a simple marvel will also be inconvenienced. Greeley is too historically alert to reduce the dollar to American arrogance, and too morally awake to celebrate its reach without asking who is left reaching back. A monetary system can be astonishingly competent at scale and strangely ungenerous in daily life. The same country that can protect offshore markets can struggle to send money quickly to citizens without bank accounts. The same system that can make safe assets for the world can make small payments expensive at home. The almighty dollar is not weak. That is precisely why its failures are so revealing.
My rating: 87/100, which under my rubric translates to 4/5 Goodreads stars.
That is a high four, not a grudging one. “The Almighty Dollar” is original in frame, strong in design, vivid in scene, and alert to who pays when systems clear. It falls short of the highest range because its reach occasionally presses hard against precision, and because its crowded present-day arguments sometimes feel like compressed essays nested inside the larger history. But the temperature of the response should be clear. This is an ambitious, clarifying book, unusually good at changing what the reader means by “dollar.”
What lingers is not the dollar as monument, nor even the dollar as empire. It is the dollar as a thing that must work somewhere for someone: in a mine, a port, a bank, a ledger, a vault, a swap line, a mall bar, a disaster-darkened hardware store. Greeley follows the dollar across five centuries and finds, again and again, that money is never merely money. It is a promise with a geography, a memory, a hierarchy, and a door. The question is who gets let through.
Compositional thumbnail sheet – early studies testing how the table, window, currency sequence, and negative space could turn monetary history into a single quiet room.
Currency and tabletop object study – close studies of the coin, early note, bank bill, and modern dollar, simplified enough to remain painterly rather than documentary.
Value and light study – a stripped-back rehearsal of the side-window illumination, tracing how the final image’s emotional force depends on shadow, silence, and angle.
Watercolor border study – experiments in archival edges, ledger wear, and faint currency engraving, shaping the frame into part document, part artifact, part promise.
Color swatch sheet – a restrained palette study drawn from the cover art, limiting the watercolor to sage, olive, parchment, taupe, sepia, charcoal, and muted dollar-green.
Faint pencil underdrawing – the bare architecture beneath the final watercolor, where window, tabletop, border, and currency objects are placed before atmosphere enters.
Pencil-plus-first-wash stage – the moment the drawing begins to breathe, with pale sage, parchment, taupe, and shadow establishing the room’s stillness.
All watercolor illustrations by Demetris Papadimitropoulos.
Brendan Greeley's The Almighty Dollar is a deeply researched, ambitious history that traces the dollar from its origins as the taler, a large silver coin minted in 15th-century Bohemia, through five centuries of global influence. While the book opens with the early days of currency exchange and bartering, it quickly finds its center of gravity in American finance, and that's where it truly shines.
What sets this book apart from other financial histories is Greeley's willingness to go small. The sections on tiny towns, like Hawarden, Iowa creating its own scrip during the Great Depression, and the community finance stories from small-town Florida, are some of the most compelling in the book. Greeley brings real human stakes to what could easily be dry economic theory, showing how money works (and fails) at the most local level. These ground-level stories give the book a warmth and specificity that most financial histories lack.
Equally fascinating is Greeley's treatment of European and Middle Eastern investment in U.S. dollars. The sheer scale of foreign reliance on the dollar is staggering. Central banks worldwide held nearly $6.7 trillion in dollar reserves in 2023, three times any other currency. Greeley does an excellent job of explaining why the dollar became the world's default currency and what that means for both the U.S. and its global partners. These sections were genuinely eye-opening and reframed my understanding of the dollar's role in international finance.
The book is packed with detail. At 432 pages, Greeley covers an enormous amount of ground, from Spain's silver empire to colonial Maryland's paper currency experiments to 19th-century New Orleans bank failures to the modern Federal Reserve. Greeley's background as a financial journalist at the Financial Times and Bloomberg Businessweek, along with his ongoing PhD work at Princeton, is evident in the quality of the research. But his writing remains accessible throughout.
Highly recommended for readers interested in economic history, monetary policy, or simply understanding why the dollar wields such extraordinary power. This is one of those rare nonfiction books that is both exhaustively reported and genuinely enjoyable to read.
I received an advance copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
The Almighty Dollar is a fascinating, deeply researched, and surprisingly accessible history of the world's most influential currency. Brendan Greeley goes far beyond a conventional account of American finance, revealing that the dollar's story stretches back centuries before the United States even existed.
One of the book's greatest strengths is its central argument: that the dollar is not simply an American creation but the product of a long historical evolution shaped by merchants, empires, bankers, miners, governments, and global markets. By tracing its origins from the silver taler of Central Europe to today's international financial system, Greeley presents a compelling new perspective on how money acquires power and how that power often escapes the control of those who believe they possess it.
I especially appreciated the way complex economic history is brought to life through vivid storytelling. Whether examining Spain's silver empire, colonial America, nineteenth-century banking crises, or the modern global financial system, Greeley consistently grounds large economic forces in the experiences of individuals and communities. The result is a narrative that feels both intellectually rigorous and remarkably engaging.
Another major strength is the book's balanced analysis. Rather than presenting the dollar as either a symbol of American triumph or a source of global inequality alone, Greeley explores the intricate relationship between finance, political power, trade, industry, and international influence. Readers are encouraged to think critically about how monetary systems develop, whom they benefit, and why they endure.
The writing is clear, insightful, and filled with memorable historical episodes that make even complicated financial concepts understandable for general readers.
The Almighty Dollar is an outstanding work of economic history that will appeal to readers interested in finance, politics, business, history, and international affairs. It offers a richer understanding of one of the most important forces shaping the modern world while challenging many assumptions about money, power, and national sovereignty.
For full transparency, I got this book free from Goodreads Giveaways in exchange for an honest review.
First, this is a very readable book. It is well researched. It is also very, very dense. If you read this book you will be taking in information. You won't be able to read it in one setting.
There is a lot of important ideas in the book. The one that hit me the most, is how much our and the international economy are based in debt. I did not think Mr. Greeley was properly horrified by this. I had known that OUR economy was based in debt, but I wasn't aware about how much of the international economy was based in American debt. I also was not aware how much the US is accountable for international debt.
This book was somewhat casual about this. Greeley is more concerned with how the borrowed money is or isn't used. His ideas are to the left of me, but then most people's are. Another thing that bothered me was how supportive this was of really bad government policies. Greeley does not condemn the New Deal, which extended the Depression nearly a decade and made scrip neccesary for the first time since the 18th century.
This book gave me a more positive perspective of the Fed.
The most important point that I took from this book is that it isn't good to build your economy on creating money for the world. We still need our factories, our farms and our industry.
Overall I would recommend this book even though I didn't agree with everything in it. #goodreadsgiveaways #TheAlmightyDollar #BrendanGreeley Spoiler
“I am not a current account fetishist or a federal deficit fetishist. It's reasonable to think that a country for a time might import more than it exports, or that it might borrow for war or infrastructure spending. It does seem that the United States, with its massive internal market and functional bank regulation, might be able to run deficits indefinitely. But as an American myself, it's frustrating that politicians never have to be openly aware of how any of it works. In Norway, after the government realized it had a gusher of oil offshore, it created a sovereign wealth fund, a big pool of investments from saved oil profits that pays for health insurance and a lot of other nice things. The United States has a gusher of dollars, but we don't openly talk about it. What should it pay for? Do we use it for ongoing spending on tax cuts? Or for health care? I think it's important to buy long-term infrastructure like fiber-optic internet, local transit, and distributed power. I think its important to pay for public education. These things make an economy more resilient and productive, meaning that people in the future will continue to pay their taxes in bank dollars. Then the federal government can clear its Treasurys in bank dollars as they come due. And I like aggressive, intrusive financial regulation, to keep all those dollar deposits and assets safe and useful to the rest of the world.”
I heard the author on a podcast and that’s what drew me to this book. I was glad I the frame of reference of hearing about the book first it made reading it that much more approachable. As a nonfiction book, it is thoroughly researched. Fully 25% at the end is notes about sources and I readers will be astonished to learn, as I was, that the Dollar predates the birth of America by hundreds of years and largely functions beyond the control of the US government today. The author’s journalist credentials shine in his writing and my only criticisms are that I wished for more digestible chapters and sometimes things got really deep. I’m a CPA and some of the accounting mechanisms were over my head. Overall I’m glad to have read The Almighty Dollar and I’ll think differently about world finances in the future. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the advance copy.
Brendan Greeley’s remarkable achievement is - first of all - connecting the dollar we Americans use today to silver mined for coinage in the mountains of what is now Czechia in 1520; and second, helping us understand that there is no single dollar, that not all dollars are equal, and that this has been the case in one fashion or another for more than two centuries.
While I enjoyed the first half of the book, I found the second half indispensable as Greeley explained the evolution of money in the American colonies and the U.S. Alternative forms of money appear often in that history, in times when there was big money, but not enough little money for people to buy what they need. The Eurodollar chapter is a masterpiece of explanatory writing about money and finance.
DNF Una cosa sia subito chiara: è un libro ben scritto, accurato, e capace di spiegare la storia dell'ascesa del Dollaro. Purtroppo, a 3/4 del volume, quando siamo entrati nella fase in cui il dollaro diventa parte del complesso sistema globale, quando diventa parte integrante degli strumenti strategici finanziari d'oltreoceano, il linguaggio si fa più criptico; al lettore si chiede di sapere sempre più cose, la narrazione diventa accademica proprio nel momento in cui avrebbe dovuto essere più chiara. Mi rendo conto dei miei limiti, e forse ho sperato troppo da quest'opera.
It's the 250th of the United States. So the dollar is also 250 years old. Right?!?...Right..?!?
As you can read from the subtitle, the dollar predates the US and its colonies.
It's not just the history of the dollar, it's the fascinating way that all dollars are not equal or as useful as other dollars, depending on your need. I though I knew a fair amount about finance. This book was enlightening in numerous ways.
I had a lot of fun with this book, which is basically a history book telling stories about how people have used the dollar as a monetary product. The author doesn't really take a side on any theoretical debates about how to understand money but the product-view seems like a useful lens. I thought about giving this 4 stars because it feels like it changed my mental model of how money works but I can't quite put into words what insights I may have gleaned. Might re-read later.
This is one of those books that changes your perspective on history.
Thoughts: The difference between "little money" and "big money". The thesis that the US government does not really (fully) control the dollar. Nobody ever had actual dollars at hand (hence "promissory notes" and ledgers). The American depression shows that people will create their own money if the government doesn't do it. The explanation for why the US uses dollars rather than pounds.
Very good book that is very dense at times. He did an amazing job researching and creating this book. The subject matter is not always interesting, but it’s a book well worth reading. Also interesting to see how the economic problems of centuries ago rise again in modern society.
A really interesting read on how what we now know as the US dollar is rooted in ideas that stretch much further back the start of the US. A very interesting read for those who appreciate history or monetary policy.
If you’re searching for a history book, this isn’t it. Besides obvious relevant omissions in history, too much of the author’s personal life is contained in the pages. Could have been about 100 pages shorter.
High level overview of the history and evolution of the dollar and subsequent eurodollar system. Badly married by pop nonfiction interludes and epilogue about local credit creation stories.
This book should NOT be thought of as an authority. In fact the author shows an incredible lack of knowledge of basic monetary policy and the "history" he writes about excludes major events.
Informative yet entertaining discussion on a potentially dry economic subject. Thought provoking for all those who believe that the ‘dollar’ shows U.S. might. They are wrong - and history proves it.