Capitalism Without Conscience Is Not Capitalism at All

In 1925, preaching at Westminster Abbey, Anglican cleric Frederick Lewis Donaldson warned of what he called the “seven social sins”: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morals, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, and politics without principle. Nearly a century later, his words feel less like a sermon from the past and more like a diagnosis of our present moment.

Much of today’s dissatisfaction with capitalism does not stem from markets themselves, but from the growing perception that economic life has drifted away from ethical restraint. Critics often frame this discontent as a failure of capitalism as a system. Yet history suggests a more precise conclusion: capitalism weakens not when it allows too much freedom, but when it loses its moral compass.

Capitalism, properly understood, is not merely an arrangement of contracts and property rights. It rests on assumptions about human nature. Human beings are not only economic actors driven by material incentives; they are also moral agents capable of responsibility, restraint, and purpose. When markets operate without regard for those dimensions, economic freedom becomes detached from the values that once sustained it.

A healthy culture and a healthy economy are not rivals. They depend on one another. As C. S. Lewis observed in The Four Loves, “the highest cannot subsist without the lowest.” Economic vitality cannot endure if the cultural and ethical foundations beneath it erode. At the same time, moral aspirations cannot thrive in societies where economic life collapses. The relationship is not one of domination, but of mutual dependence.

Modern defenders of the free market have often emphasized this point. Economist and writer Paul Mueller has argued that free-market capitalism aligns closely with human nature because it respects moral agency, voluntary cooperation, and the rule of law. In such systems, individuals are free to pursue their vocations, form associations, and act on conscience. Where markets are relatively free, religious liberty and pluralism have also tended to flourish.

This does not mean markets are immune to abuse. Mueller notes that capitalism, like the human body, sometimes requires correction. Excesses arise, abuses occur, and interventions may be necessary. But lasting renewal comes less from external coercion than from internal reform. It comes from restoring norms of responsibility, moderation, and ethical restraint.

That insight was hardly new. Over a century ago, sociologist Max Weber, in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, explored how religious ideas shaped early capitalist development. Weber did not argue that faith automatically created wealth. Rather, he observed that certain moral disciplines, such as frugality, diligence, moderation, and a sense of vocation, helped channel economic activity toward productive ends. He warned that when these disciplines fade, capitalism risks becoming hollow, driven by status, excess, and power rather than purpose.

Weber drew extensively on the writings of Benjamin Franklin, whose 1758 essay The Way to Wealth became a cornerstone of early American economic thought. Franklin was no enemy of profit. He understood capital accumulation well and explained it plainly. Yet he insisted that wealth depended on industriousness and frugality, not speculation or waste. Money, Franklin argued, could generate more money, but only when guided by discipline and prudence.

Similarly, Adam Smith, often caricatured as a champion of unrestrained self-interest, grounded his economic thinking in moral psychology. In The Theory of Moral Sentiments, Smith emphasized humanity’s innate capacity for sympathy: the ability to consider the feelings and interests of others. Markets function, he believed, not because people lack morals, but because moral norms moderate behavior.

Religious traditions have long reinforced this perspective. Christian ethics, as expressed in the Gospels, do not condemn wealth itself. They question how it is acquired, how it is used, and whether it becomes an end rather than a means. Biblical warnings against ill-gotten gains coexist with encouragements toward stewardship, responsibility, and care for others. The moral critique is directed not at economic activity, but at greed, corruption, and indifference.

When capitalism loses these ethical guardrails, its distortions become visible: ostentatious displays of wealth, rent-seeking through political favoritism, monopolies that suppress competition, and financial practices detached from real value creation. These pathologies do not reflect the proper functioning of free markets. They represent markets stripped of the moral norms that once restrained them.

Capitalism does not survive on efficiency alone. It depends on families that transmit values, schools that cultivate character, and communities that reward integrity alongside success. Without those formative institutions, economic freedom risks devolving into cynicism and decay.

The lesson offered by Donaldson, Weber, Franklin, Smith, and the moral traditions that shaped them is not that capitalism must be rejected, but that it must be defended honestly. A capitalism without conscience is not a stronger system. It is a fragile one. Markets endure not because they ignore ethics, but because they presuppose them.