I should say, plenty will look at the weight of a typical Dutch bicycle and laugh, or get a hernia.
I found this quite helpful, although he's talking about a few kgs extra, where a Dutch bike may be rather more:
The Weight Ruse
Let’s compare a typical modern, superlight racer’s bike, costing between $ 2,500 and $ 8,000, to a more useful, and more all-around durable steel bike costing between $ 2,500 and $ 4,500. These prices are typical, early-twenty-first-century prices for what the bike industry calls “enthusiast level” bicycles. The light bike’s frame and fork weigh about 3.7 pounds and have about 13.8 pounds of parts, for a total bike weight of 17.5 pounds, plus or minus. Sixteen pounds is no longer rare. The more useful steel frame and fork weigh 6.5 pounds and have roughly 16.5 pounds of parts, for a twenty-three-pound total. The weight difference is 5.5 pounds. It still sounds like a lot, but the arithmetic doesn’t stop until we add the engine, and that’s you. Let’s say ride-ready you— with shoes, helmet, wallet, sunglasses, cell phone, and clothing—weighs 171 pounds. That’s engine weight that must be added to the 17.5 pounds (to total 188.5 pounds) and to the 23 pounds (to total 194 pounds). Now those 5.5 pounds make less than a 3 percent difference. Let’s look what that 5.5 pounds and less than 3 percent buy you. The lighter bike is good for maybe five years before it breaks or you just don’t trust it anymore, because maybe it has been in an accident or has a deep scratch on it. The heavier one may easily last twenty or thirty years, at 6,000 to 10,000 miles a year, and be safer the whole time, because it can withstand scratches and minor gouges. The lighter, racy bike won’t let you ride a tire bigger than twenty-five millimeters, so it’s lousy on rough roads. It doesn’t fit fenders, so it’s miserable to ride on wet roads. You and the bike get junky from road grime.
The more useful steel bike lets you ride tires up to thirty-eight millimeters wide, so you can ride it over any paved surface with remarkable comfort, because you can lower the pressure in the wide tires . It fits fenders, so it’s a year-round, all-weather bike, not a part-of-the-year, good-weather one. The lighter bike has high gearing, which is no good for trails, long hills, steep hills, or even moderate hills when you’re tired. The heavier bike has go-anywhere gears. You may not use the lowest ones much, but you’ll have them when you need them. The light bike requires special shoes, because it comes with special pedals; the more useful bike will have pedals that work with any shoes in your closet.
HOW LITTLE WEIGHT SLOWS YOU DOWN
In the ’70s, the Schwinn Bicycle Company hired the Cornell Aeronautical Laboratory to figure out how weight translated to speed. (If it were easy to tell the difference, Schwinn wouldn’t have had to hire the high-tech lab.) The Cornellians concluded that for every twelve pounds gained or lost, there was a 1 mile per hour difference in speed. I used to time almost all of my rides, and I have point-to-point times for dozens of rides in my neck of the woods, and my experiences match up shockingly well with the ’70s Schwinn study . But Schwinn study or no, if you don’t race, does a 1 mile per hour difference for every twelve pounds of weight even mean anything? I’d say no. Consider:
On a stop-and-go commute, a red light at the wrong time instantly wipes out even a hundred-pound weight difference.
On a descent, the heavier bike rider is faster. Light wheels accelerate faster than heavy ones, which helps when you’re taking off from a stop, but heavy wheels maintain more of their momentum than light wheels, which helps you keep your speed on rolling roads and trails.
On a twenty-five-mile club ride, a flat tire negates any advantage that may have accrued from riding superlight tires, which may be slightly faster but are more prone to flats.
On social-but-brisk club rides, when you and your club mates are close to the same fitness level, the pack sets the pace, and since you’re riding in a partial vacuum (not fighting the wind), it’s easy to keep up, even with a heavier bike and body.
LIFTING WEIGHT VERSUS PUSHING IT VERSUS ROLLING IT VERSUS ROLLING IT DOWNHILL
Going back to the 5.5-pound-weight difference between the two bikes we’ve been talking about: Of course you know what 5.5 pounds feels like when you lift a 5.5-pound object with your arms, but that’s not relevant here. In the lift-the-object example, you mentally compare lifting 5.5 pounds to lifting nothing, so the difference is huge. But when you ride a bike, many other factors combine to diminish the differences. First, you’re moving the bicycle horizontally. (Even up steep hills, the direction is way more horizontal than it is vertical.) Second, the bike is on wheels, so it’s easy to break inertia. And once the bike is moving, the wheels do much of the work. Third, you use the strong muscles in your legs to move the weight, not the relatively weak muscles in your arms. The stronger the muscles, the less sensitive they are to weight differences. A weight difference of a few pounds or a few percent in a rolling bicycle is hard to get worked up over, especially when the “extra” weight makes the bike better. An Unracer will not notice a few, or even several, pounds. Ideally, every ounce on your steel-frame bike will pay for itself by making the bike safer, more useful, more comfortable, more fun, less expensive, and even prettier. When you’re dealing with decent bikes made with the best modern materials— as opposed to a true overweight relic that was made in the ’50s with absolutely no regard for any of the details that make a bike pleasant to own and ride— then some extra, well-placed weight makes the bike better. It’s the same way with the engine . You want to add muscle in your legs, because it’s useful for riding, and reduce fat, because it’s not. Don’t give up on reducing body fat and try to make up for it with a superlight, high-geared, skinny-tired, low-handlebarred, short-lived, carbon -fiber, razor blade of a bike that works in a racer’s fantasy world but not in the real one. My everyday bike weighs about thirty-one pounds, with a small rack, two bags with stuff in ’em, fenders, and a kickstand. And it is no clunker.
Petersen, Grant; Petersen, Grant (2012-05-08). Just Ride: A Radically Practical Guide to Riding Your Bike (Kindle Locations 1434-1435). Workman Publishing Company. Kindle Edition.
Last ride I'd not even managed 20 miles before gears were slipping 
