Midas hospitably returns the aged Silenus to Bacchus and is offered a reward. He asks that everything he touches become gold. The wish succeeds. Branches, stones, food, and wine all take the same brilliant form. He has not simply acquired wealth; he has made wealth the only form anything can retain.
The horror is often described as excessive greed. More precisely, one measure has swallowed every other relation. Bread is valuable as nourishment, wine as drink, a body as living presence. Once all become gold, their market value rises while the value needed in the moment disappears.
Single measures promise clarity. Salary, score, productivity, prestige, and price let unlike things be compared. That is useful. The danger begins when comparison becomes conversion—when friendship must prove networking value, leisure must become optimization, or art must justify itself as investment. What cannot enter the measure begins to look unreal.
After Midas washes the power away in the Pactolus, the world can differ again. Wealth finds its proper place when it helps us approach food, shelter, time, beauty, and care without pretending to replace them. The golden touch does not eliminate poverty; it eliminates plurality. Midas nearly starves amid perfect value because value has been allowed only one name.
Source note: This essay follows Ovid’s Metamorphoses XI: Midas’s welcome of Silenus, chosen reward, transformation of food and drink, and cleansing in the Pactolus. It excludes the later popular addition in which he turns a daughter to gold.