Charity vs. Self-Interest: Why We Need a Middle Path (short)

When we think about wealth, we usually picture two extremes: the Oligarch and Jesus.

On one side are today’s Oligarchs—the modern embodiment of conquerors who’ve taken from the weak for centuries. They accumulate riches and power for their own sake, regardless of who suffers. On the other side is Jesus (or Buddha, or Mother Teresa): the radical devotee who gives everything to the poor, with no thought of possessions, family, or self-interest.

Both extremes cast a long shadow.

If you’re rich, the cultural instinct is to assume you got there by stepping on someone else. Rich = amoral. If you’re charitable, the bar is impossibly high. Jesus gave up everything. Few of us can—or want to—do the same. So where does that leave the rest of us who want to prosper and do good?

Fifty years ago Milton Friedman declared that business exists only to serve shareholders. Jack Welch proved how powerful that idea could become. The result: staggering inequality, climate damage, and the sense that capitalism had become amoral at its core.

Now the pendulum is swinging back. ESG, impact investing, “stakeholder capitalism”—whatever you call it, leaders are trying to rebuild capitalism on moral ground. Adam Smith saw it clearly back in 1759: markets only work if exchange is both voluntary and moral. Otherwise, the invisible hand becomes a fist.

I think of my own work. My companies exist to crush poverty, and yes, I’ve made money doing it. I like my toys. They bring security to my family. And yet—I sometimes feel guilt. Because history has taught us that wealth comes from exploitation, not fairness.

But here’s the truth: our arrangement with our Agents is moral voluntary exchange in action. We say: Work with us. We will pay you well compared to your peers, support your family through crisis, and teach you how to prosper. In return, we earn revenue and profits. Both sides win.

That is neither Oligarch nor Jesus. It is capitalism with a conscience.

So why the guilt? Habit. Too many people still believe that to be rich is to be rapacious, and to be moral is to be saint-like. Both are wrong.

Even Muhammad Yunus, with his groundbreaking microfinance work, unintentionally reinforced the Jesus side of the equation. He showed that helping the poor was noble, but tied the idea too tightly to self-sacrifice. As much as Friedman cloaked amoral capitalism in academic prestige, Yunus cloaked moral capitalism in sainthood. Neither helps us move forward.

We need a middle path—one where building wealth and lifting others are not contradictions. Where self-interest and charity can coexist through moral, voluntary exchange.

Because the poor don’t just need saints. And the world doesn’t need more Oligarchs.

We need more entrepreneurs, leaders, and citizens willing to break the old habit—and prove that prosperity can be moral.