Question

For centuries, the Dutch tulip mania of 1636–1637 has served as the archetypal cautionary tale of economic irrationality. Popularized by Charles Mackay in his 1841 work *Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds*, the standard narrative depicts a society gripped by a speculative frenzy, wherein people of all classes liquidated their estates to purchase tulip bulbs at exorbitant prices, only to be financially ruined when the market inevitably collapsed. However, contemporary economic historians, most notably Peter Garber, have fundamentally challenged this interpretation, arguing that the pricing dynamics of the tulip market were largely driven by rational market fundamentals rather than collective hysteria.

To understand Garber's thesis, one must first recognize the biological reality of the seventeenth-century tulip. The most coveted tulips—the ones that commanded astronomical sums—were not uniform, solid-colored varieties, but rather 'broken' bulbs that featured spectacular, variegated patterns of contrasting colors. Unknown to cultivators at the time, this breaking was actually caused by a tulip mosaic virus. Because the virus weakened the plant, broken bulbs propagated at a drastically slower rate than normal bulbs. Consequently, the exorbitant prices paid for these specific varieties reflected a genuine scarcity and a highly restricted supply of a luxury good, rather than an arbitrary speculative premium.

Furthermore, a close examination of the market's structure reveals that the most intense trading occurred in a localized futures market, colloquially known as *windhandel* (wind trade). In this system, buyers and sellers contracted for the delivery of bulbs at the end of the season. Crucially, these contracts were not legally binding and functioned more like options. When the market crashed in February 1637, it was primarily this futures market—specifically the segment dealing with common, unbroken bulbs that had seen a sudden influx of inexperienced traders in the final weeks—that collapsed. The rare, virus-infected bulbs had largely maintained their value among elite connoisseurs.

If the economic data fails to support the notion of a devastating nationwide financial ruin, why has the myth of the tulip mania persisted? Historian Anne Goldgar attributes this longevity to the moralizing literature of the period. Dutch Calvinist magistrates and pamphleteers, deeply anxious about the rapid influx of wealth and the potential subversion of the social order by sudden, unearned riches, seized upon the market correction to craft a didactic narrative condemning greed and speculation. The enduring legacy of the tulip mania, therefore, is less a reflection of actual seventeenth-century financial devastation than a testament to the power of a culturally resonant moral fable.

According to the passage, what explicitly accounts for the slower propagation rate of the highly coveted 'broken' tulip bulbs?