In its Money issue (Summer 2023), Plough made a thoughtful and ethical case for common ownership of property. The authors missed something, however, as I will demonstrate through the work of Michael Novak, the philosopher-theologian who defined “democratic capitalism”. The two systems, capitalism and the Bruderhof’s model of Christian socialism, can complement one another and together enable women and men to flourish holistically. I conclude with a challenge for fellow Plough readers and admirers of the Bruderhof: to distinguish that which is a community’s gift to the church from that which the Bible prescribes for the entire church, and to encourage all the gifts.

Perspective: Common Ownership, from Money

Three authors presented a strong case for common ownership. Eberhard Arnold, founder of the Bruderhof, in “The Religion of Mammon” (1923) opens with Jesus’ declaration, “you cannot serve God and Mammon” (Matt. 6:24). Arnold argues: “Mammon kills; its very nature is murder. It is through the spirit of Mammon that wars have broken out and impurity has become an object of commerce.” Mammon is the cause of everyday injustice, it ”drives hungry children and the unemployed into villages seeking food, only to be chased.” Moreover, “capitalistic society can only be maintained by large-scale deception,” and “it is impossible to amass such a degree of wealth – which at the same time means power – without cheating, depriving, hurting, and even killing one’s fellow human beings.” Arnold concludes his diagnosis with “money and love are mutually exclusive.”

Eugene McCarraher, in his “Enchanted Capitalism” interview, focuses on the economic system, contending that capitalism is “very fragile,” in “terminal decline,” that “it’s almost dead, but thanks to all kinds of state support, the damn thing never quite dies.” In his view, advertising invites viewers to enter a faulty “moral universe” that does not justly assess need and value, so allocates resources inequitably. Capitalism is effectively idolatrous, distinguishing not only between “what is right and wrong, but what is real and unreal” based on economic value. McCarraher views the example of the community holding all things in common as normative, a prescriptive “small-c communism.”

Peter Mommsen’s “The Other Side of the Needle’s Eye” is less polemical as he lionizes an exceptionally wealthy fifth-century Roman couple, Melania and Pinianus, who gave away their vast inherited wealth in the hope of caring for others and having “treasure in heaven” (Luke 18:23). They succeeded in distributing all their riches but it was messy, “somewhat at random,” caring for various needs but also enriching other families of their class through bargain disposals. Eventually, the two retired to religious communities in Jerusalem and died without possessions. From this story, Mommsen challenges preachers to encourage Christians to follow the example of the early church, to renounce possessions. Mommsen invokes Tolstoy: “Poverty comes from man’s injustice to his fellow man.”

Nearby articles feature the Bruderhof and communities that share ownership.

In sum, from these three articles and related experience, mammon is associated with money and wealth as the source of much that is evil. Capitalism, with success measured by money and leading to wealth, runs contrary to biblical prescriptions and leads to various forms of inequity, suffering, and injustice – even idolatry. All this could be corrected through common ownership and allocation of goods based on real needs. Doing so would encourage virtue and thereby improve the lives of individuals and communities.

Elsewhere, people who favor shared ownership over capitalism generally have argued that socialism:

  • Encourages equitable power sharing, avoiding a system in which those with the most money, individuals and large corporations, have excessive influence.
  • Leads to balanced consumption, whereas capitalism, driven by advertising and consumerism, depletes the environment as we consume beyond our means.
  • Inspires community virtues and mutual concern, while capitalism is associated with individualism and self-centeredness.
  • Resolves wealth-based divisions, reducing a growing gap between rich and poor, domestically and internationally.
  • Cultivates refined tastes, guided by intellectuals and artists, whereas capitalism leads to tasteless consumption and vulgarity.

Given the state of intellectual life in universities and the qualities of much modern art, I wonder about the final point. But the first four are supported by thoughtful advocates, demonstrably concerned for their neighbors.

Among the religious, scripture is employed to support socialism, including the redistribution of Jubilee (Lev. 25), prohibition of usury (Exod. 22), and common ownership in the early church in Jerusalem (Acts 2, 4). Various church proclamations – especially Roman Catholic but also Protestant – support all these points in the hope of creating equitable and peaceful communities.

We witness such a community in our Italian town where we worship with Capuchins, followers of Francis of Assisi who closely adhere to his original rule, including no ownership. Although we are not Roman Catholic, we have been welcomed and have gotten to know the local brothers, to learn from them, and to love and intercede for each other. As it relates to economics, the Bruderhof is an evangelical version and I deeply admire and am grateful for both communities.

Another Perspective: Democratic Capitalism

When I studied economics, we began with theory. Textbooks defined “capitalism” – ironically, a term that originates with Karl Marx – as an economic system based on private ownership of the means of production and its operation for profit. It was contrasted with “socialism,” characterized by common ownership with guidance of the means of production and distribution of goods by a political or social authority. We then explored issues related to the systems.

Michael Novak, in his highly influential Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, began with observation rather than theory. The obvious success of the American social-political-economic system persuaded him to abandon his socialist leanings in favor of a system that is: a) predominantly market-driven, b) within a polity that respects life and liberty, and c) enabled by cultural institutions that hold to ideals of liberty and justice. The system is possible because the economic-directive power of the state has been limited. Individuals and groups are thereby freed to pursue diverse economic objectives. When Novak wrote, this described the USA and very different models in Canada, countries in Western Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and Japan. To designate the system, he coined “democratic capitalism.”

In support, Novak contrasts the performance of various economic systems, perhaps most tellingly those of Northern with Latin America. Adam Smith, the famous eighteenth-century economist-philosopher, had referred to the contrasting New World systems as an experiment, testing a Latin American system based on European guidance with the new ideas of the North. In Smith’s day, Latin America was advantaged in precious metals and other resources and, due to milder weather, in agriculture. Each region was dominated by European powers, which also provided nearly all their trade. Why then, Novak asks, has the Northern economy so consistently out-performed Latin America? With reason, he attributes Northern success to the then-new idea of democratic capitalism.

Money, in fact, presents consistent observations from Cuba (Harvey Maltese, “The Last of the Revolutionaries”), contrasting views by still-convinced veterans of the revolution with those of frustrated young people. Veterans remember Batista’s oppression and the benefits of asset redistribution after the corrupt regime was deposed. There has been little subsequent growth, however. One-hundred miles away Floridians flourish economically while in Cuba, as twenty-five-year-old Luis reports: “I have only ever known blackouts, unemployment, bad transportation.”

Novak summarizes other contrasts that support the inherent productivity of democratic capitalism, and he is not alone. For example, it is widely known that European economies – also living standards and life expectancy – were stagnant for centuries until roughly 1800, when steady growth enabled by new thinking began in Britain and America. And today, development economists generally agree that market development, not foreign aid, has been the primary cause of the massive post–World War II reduction in deep poverty, especially in Asia.

Socialism focuses on distribution while democratic capitalism focuses on invention and growth. And it is undeniable that the bulk of economic innovation in the past two centuries – from fossil fuel to renewables, and advances in electronics, household appliances, and medical technology – has emerged from societies that practice democratic capitalism, disproportionally America. Moreover, many of those innovations have contributed to human flourishing globally. I will return to some related challenges, but the generally high standard of living that we enjoy can be largely attributed to innovation, so democratic capitalism.

Novak also points out that successful democratic capitalism, generally exercised through corporations, demands teamwork so also mutual trust, compromise, cooperation, and common sense. Corporate communities are where many Americans of diverse backgrounds and beliefs share life together. Middle managers are corporate community builders. It is a not a game for pure individualists.

In sum, Novak’s well-supported argument is essentially pragmatic: “Democratic capitalism looks to the record, rather than to the intentions of rival elites. None have produced an equivalent system of liberties. None have so loosed the bonds of station, rank, peonage, and immobility. None have so raised human expectations. None so value the individual.” Then: “while democratic capitalism is not utopian, its institutions embody a practical wisdom worthy of admiration … democratic capitalism represents a plain sort of wisdom suited to this world.”

Years later, with the world’s one-billion deeply impoverished people in mind, Novak reflected: “Systems that do not move their populations from poverty to decent wealth in less than a generation are flawed and ought to be reformed.” Is there a viable alternative to democratic capitalism? If not, isn’t it the moral choice?

A Few Challenges for Each Perspective

Socialism – that is, shared ownership – arguably leads to more equitable distribution but it does not lead to much innovation and growth; slices are similar but the pie remains the pie. Of known systems, growth in material blessing is best produced by democratic capitalism. At a practical level, how do socialists intend to raise living standards for the billion people who live in abject poverty?

We admire the conviction of Melania and Pinianus, the Roman Christians who gave away all they inherited. But what if, instead of freeing slaves who were re-enslaved and giving cash away, the couple had formed an executive team to manage their assets for the benefit of the entire community? Romans were good at management! What if they had paid former slaves a living wage and built enterprises that challenged the established, exploitative Roman system? They purified themselves and provided short-term relief, but did Melania and Pinianus miss the societal opportunity?

Several authors in Money emphasize that Jesus’ followers in Jerusalem pooled their resources, that it united them and was a vital element of their witness. I don’t doubt it, although it is important to also note that the biblical language reports the practice but does not prescribe it any more than it prescribes that only men with Greek names are to serve under apostles (Acts 6:5). Roughly fifteen years later, believers in Jerusalem were hungry and needed support from other cities (Acts 11:27–30). After another ten to fifteen years, Paul organized famine relief (2 Cor. 8:1–9; Rom. 15:26). Might what began as faithful preparation for Jesus’ return have led to sloth and bailouts – even to Paul’s no-work-no-eat admonition (2 Thess. 3:10). From limited contemporary records we do not know of general famines during the period, so I wonder if famine among Christians was concentrated in Jerusalem, related to poor collective work habits, and was addressed and even subsidized through contributions from other cities. If so, the church at Jerusalem followed a pattern similar to that of almost all utopian communities, failing within a generation or two of a charismatic founder. How will socialists sustain constructive work habits in an entire community?

Money includes two paragraphs from C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity in which he wonders about usury. Lewis notes that it was forbidden in Jewish and Christian society through the Middle Ages, also that investment return is quite similar to interest and a basis of modern economies. The modern context is very different, of course, with corporate businesses that span communities, but Lewis was unable to decide whether interest and investment returns are permissible for people of faith. This is a question for all, but especially for democratic capitalists: What was behind the prohibition of usury and how can its objectives be realized today?

Jubilee presents a clearer challenge. It does not seem to have been practiced faithfully, but Moses required the community to reset ownership every fifty years, to give families a fresh start. Democratic capitalists, arguably, approach this objective through a combination of inheritance taxes to reduce the transfer of wealth, and access to education and health care to provide opportunity for new generations. Is this enough? Done well enough? What else might contribute to a regular reset?

We know that wealth can corrupt us. The super-rich purchase private yachts for over $1 billion, city apartments for $100 million, automobiles for $1 million. More ordinary households’ desire for prosperity leads to unhealthy workloads and excessive debt. Friendship is monetized (Clare Coffey, “Selling Friends,” in Money). Personal value and meaning are related to consumption, and we can all cite examples among associates and in popular culture. As Novak emphasized, the three-fold system – economic, political, cultural – cannot thrive “apart from the moral culture that nourishes the virtues on which its existence depends,” rooted in family, churches and neighborhoods. Advocates of democratic capitalism: Is there a moral issue related to excessive consumption and materialism? And if so, how might it be addressed for the good of individuals and communities?

Novak specifically calls out compensation levels at some corporations, often reeking of collusion between governing boards and their consultants, including options that reward holders for stock appreciation unrelated to anything within their control and leading to income levels that bear little relation to contributions. Should more be done to reign in corporate compensation?

Finally, a few public policy thoughts: In Money, Jack Bell (“Saving the Commons”) draws on William Cobbett’s nineteenth-century writing to lament the appropriation of common lands during the British Industrial Revolution. This led, he argues, to diminished care for the land and reduced biodiversity, also to lower productivity and less healthy food. Choices were made by governments, encouraged by wealthy landowners in pursuit of economic development. What other course of action might the government have chosen? In the light of this experience, how should Africans, Asians, and Latin Americans develop their agricultural systems? What care should be taken by corporations as they export Western technology?

In a similar vein, what if a modern virtual ‘“commons” – our personal data, harvested from social media – could not be taken and shared by various tech companies? What if we owned our personal data rather than giving it away in exchange for free apps? We would pay for access but the internet would behave differently. Would we still monetize friendships? How much porn would be consumed if viewers had to provide their names and billing information? Would algorithms feed us only information that stimulates us, with all the related community damage? As with common lands two centuries ago, governments regulate these matters. What choices do we and our governments face today related to social media?

Fitting These Observations Together

Each system upholds different standards and brings very different gifts to our neighbors. Let’s give each its due.

At one level, the systems cannot thrive without one another. The Bruderhof and Capuchins drive automobiles they did not build and employ power sources they did not develop. When ill, they draw upon medical technology they did not invent. Bruderhof Community Playthings are sold to schools and families outside the community. Capuchins, a mendicant order, survive through the generosity of local supporters. Technological and economic advances have been provided by the most productive elements of the economy, largely by corporate owners and workers.

On the other hand, in the face of capitalist excess, Bruderhof and Capuchin friends point in another direction. Their example of community life – sharing everything material, care for one another, modest consumption, all with apparent joy – is respected by the most ardent capitalists. From outside those communities, we may desire homes that sell for millions, then observe the relative simplicity of Capuchin life. We may want the latest automobile model, then read of how the Bruderhof manages a common fleet. We are enticed by advertising, then read Plough’s profound reflections on faith and life. We walk away from those with whom we disagree, then witness the commitment that holds communities together.

You might ask me how to live in community and I might try to answer – but not as an expert and certainly no one will treat me as one. In a similar manner, one might ask a Capuchin friend about economic systems and he might make an attempt – but will not be taken very seriously. We need a humble sense of the gifts we bring (1 Cor. 12).

I first read Novak when I was in business, consulting for multinationals on strategy and organization. What struck me was his claim that the corporation is the vehicle that has, for over two hundred years, been used by God to bless humans materially, that enabling the effectiveness of a corporation is therefore a high calling, a vocation that cooperates with God in the completion of his creation (Gen. 1). I was inspired, and acutely aware of my inadequacy.

Years later, when I moved from corporate to ministry leadership, some who remained in business praised my “move to significance” – an accolade which I firmly rejected, affirming that leadership of a community that blesses neighbors materially cedes nothing to traditional ministry.

Returning to my purpose in writing, to challenge fellow readers of Plough: Affirm corporate life as a calling, and inform it with the insights and values that the Bruderhof have developed in community. The systems complement one another. Join me in hoping that both thrive, in the fullest sense, to further Jesus’ redemptive project by enabling all to flourish.