'Capitalism' is a dirty word for many intellectuals, but there

The words of Steven Pinker — “‘Capitalism’ is a dirty word for many intellectuals, but there are a number of studies showing that open economies and free trade are negatively correlated with genocide and war.” — resound with the paradox of our age. For though capitalism is often scorned by critics as greedy or corrupt, Pinker points to its unexpected virtue: the power of trade and open exchange to soften the hand of war. His words remind us that when nations are bound by the flow of goods, ideas, and prosperity, the fire of destruction is dampened, for men are less eager to burn what feeds them.

To call capitalism a “dirty word” is to acknowledge its enemies, those who see in it exploitation and inequality. And yet, Pinker calls upon the evidence of history: when economies are open and trade is free, the likelihood of war and genocide declines. Why? Because trade ties strangers together, makes neighbors out of rivals, and gives nations a stake in one another’s survival. The merchant has no desire to slay the farmer who supplies his grain, nor the craftsman who fashions his tools. Commerce builds bridges that the swords of hatred struggle to sever.

History itself provides clear testimony. In the long peace of nineteenth-century Europe, after the Napoleonic Wars, the growth of international trade created bonds between nations that helped restrain conflict for decades. Though not without tension, the vast web of economic exchange made the costs of war heavier and its profits slimmer. Likewise, in the modern world, the rise of post-war Europe, with its shared markets and eventually the European Union, transformed lands once ravaged by endless battles into a region of peace. France and Germany, ancient enemies, now linked their fates in steel and coal, in cars and wine, and in doing so banished the specter of constant war.

Consider also the devastation of the Second World War. In its wake, leaders of Europe sought not only to rebuild cities, but to weave economies together so tightly that another war would become unthinkable. From this vision grew the institutions of cooperation that endure today. Nations discovered that peace is easier to sustain when prosperity is shared, and destruction becomes a burden too great to bear. Pinker’s words are rooted in this very truth: trade restrains the demons of violence by binding human fortunes together.

Yet his words also warn us of the opposite: where economies are closed, where trade is stifled, where isolation and scarcity reign, the soil becomes fertile for hatred and war. Genocide often arises in lands where groups are dehumanized, cut off from the broader web of human exchange, and where leaders can inflame envy and fear without the balancing presence of cooperation. The marketplace, imperfect though it may be, creates daily reminders that other peoples are not only rivals but partners, that their survival enriches ours.

The lesson for us, then, is this: do not despise prosperity when it is shared, nor mock trade as though it were merely greed. Recognize its hidden power to keep peace. War feeds on isolation, suspicion, and poverty; peace grows where exchange, openness, and opportunity flourish. In our own lives, the same is true. When we open ourselves to others — to their ideas, their needs, their strengths — we reduce conflict and build harmony.

What, then, should we do? Support openness in our communities and in our nations. Defend systems that foster cooperation rather than hostility. Learn to see strangers not as threats but as potential partners. And when you are tempted to close your heart in suspicion, remember the wisdom of Pinker’s words: the more we trade, the less we kill.

Thus let his teaching endure: though capitalism may be despised by some, it bears within it the seed of peace. For where men exchange goods and knowledge, they exchange also trust, and where trust grows, the shadows of genocide and war begin to fade. This is the wisdom of the ages, dressed in modern words, and it is ours to guard and to live.