It seems like the real issue isn’t that RPG economies are “broken,” but that they’re serving very different purposes depending on the type of game being run.
In most versions of D&D (and many OSR-inspired systems), treasure is deliberately inflated. That’s because gold is meant to function less like an economic simulator and more like a pacing mechanism. You clear a dungeon, you haul out a hoard, and that sudden surge of wealth is the proof of success. The loop is treasure → more dangerous adventures → more treasure.
The challenge comes when players ask, “what do we do with all this money?” Since the best rewards in these games are usually earned in play (magic weapons, relics, rare items from the dungeon), spending coin rarely feels as satisfying. That’s why piles of gold tend to accumulate without a clear use, unless the DM introduces sinks—stronghold rules, hirelings, lifestyle expenses, or house systems that treat money as a resource with weight.
This is why it can feel like apples and oranges when comparing with grittier, street-level play. In those campaigns, money really is survival: it covers debts, upkeep, food, lodging, or bribes, and scarcity is part of the drama. But that’s a different tone from the default “kick in the door and grab the loot” model most D&D material is structured around.
So rather than asking “how do we fix the economy,” maybe the better question is: “what role do we want money to play in this campaign?” If it’s meant to be a motivator and a limiter, you build systems to make every coin matter. If it’s meant to be a scoreboard, then it doesn’t need fixing—it’s already doing the job it was designed to do.