There’s a tendency among certain corners of the internet to attribute virtually every problem in human existence to capitalism. Poverty, war, exploitation, alienation, environmental destruction, inequality, and suffering are all presented as symptoms of a singular disease. Abolish capitalism, and supposedly we can begin building a better world.

I understand the appeal of this argument. Capitalism is exploitative, alienating, and destructive. But I find myself increasingly skeptical of the idea that it is the fundamental source of humanity’s problems. I think we’re looking at the symptom rather than the underlying condition. What if our problems stem not from capitalism, but from consciousness itself?

Capitalism is a human invention. It is a system constructed by conscious beings, sustained by conscious beings, and justified through the narratives conscious beings create. Before capitalism existed, there was conquest, slavery, tribal warfare, religious persecution, domination, and exploitation. The economic arrangements changed, but the fundamental capacity for cruelty remained.

We seem to have an extraordinary talent for constructing systems that reflect our worst impulses and then convincing ourselves that those systems are responsible for the impulses themselves.

Consider greed. We condemn capitalism for incentivizing accumulation, yet the desire to accumulate is not exclusive to capitalism. Consider domination. We condemn capitalist hierarchies, yet hierarchies existed long before modern markets. Consider tribalism. We condemn nationalism and borders, yet human beings have historically divided themselves into competing groups regardless of their economic arrangements.

The problem is not simply the system. The problem is the creature who keeps creating systems. Consciousness is often celebrated as humanity’s greatest achievement. We are capable of abstract thought, self-reflection, creativity, philosophy, and an awareness of the universe. But perhaps we are too eager to romanticize this condition. Consciousness also gives us the capacity to anticipate suffering, obsess over the past, fear the future, recognize our mortality, and construct elaborate systems of meaning to reassure ourselves that our existence has some greater purpose.

We’re not merely organisms experiencing pain. We are organisms capable of contemplating the meaninglessness of pain. We are capable of recognizing the absurdity of our circumstances while simultaneously inventing ideologies, religions, and political doctrines to explain them away.

Peter Wessel Zapffe explored this predicament in his philosophy of human consciousness, arguing that our excessive awareness is an evolutionary burden. Thomas Ligotti similarly questions whether consciousness is something worth celebrating at all. Schopenhauer understood existence as driven by an insatiable will that perpetually generates dissatisfaction. These perspectives suggest that suffering is not merely an unfortunate consequence of a flawed economic system. It may be deeply embedded in the very nature of conscious existence. I often wonder what would happen if capitalism disappeared tomorrow.

Would human beings suddenly stop competing for power? Would we abandon our tribal instincts? Would we cease to fear death, envy one another, seek status, or attempt to impose our values on others?

Or would we simply construct a different system, one that eventually reproduces the same hierarchies, conflicts, and contradictions under a different name?

History offers little reason for absolute confidence in the latter possibility being avoided.

This is not an argument against revolutionary politics or the abolition of capitalism. It is an argument against treating economic transformation as a complete solution to the human predicament. A revolution can dismantle institutions. It cannot automatically dismantle the psychological and existential conditions that gave rise to them. Perhaps the most dangerous assumption in revolutionary thought is the belief that human beings are fundamentally good and that their goodness is merely suppressed by oppressive structures. Remove the structures, and goodness will flourish.

But what if human nature is considerably more complicated? What if domination, aggression, irrationality, and self-deception are not simply products of oppression but possibilities inherent in the conscious organism?

What happens when the revolutionaries themselves become the administrators of power? What happens when liberation becomes another justification for coercion? What happens when a movement dedicated to ending domination begins identifying enemies that must be dominated in return? These are not merely historical accidents. They are questions about consciousness itself.

I find economic reductionism increasingly unsatisfying, regardless of whether it comes from the political right or left. It assumes that if we can identify the correct external mechanism, we can explain and ultimately resolve the human condition. But perhaps the problem is not exclusively external.

Perhaps our institutions are manifestations of something more fundamental: the human tendency to seek meaning, security, superiority, and control in a universe that offers no guarantees of any of these things.

Capitalism is one manifestation of this tendency. Nationalism is another. Organized religion, authoritarianism, consumerism, and ideological fanaticism are others. Different systems, different justifications, remarkably familiar impulses.

And perhaps that is why I find myself drawn toward a more pessimistic philosophical outlook. Not because I believe nothing can change, but because I am increasingly unconvinced that changing the structure of society will fundamentally change the nature of the beings inhabiting it. I am not suggesting that capitalism is harmless or that economic inequality is inconsequential. I am suggesting that we should be careful about confusing the abolition of a particular system with the resolution of the human predicament. We can imagine a society without capitalism. We can imagine a society without states, borders, money, or coercive hierarchies. These possibilities deserve serious consideration. But can we imagine a society without the underlying psychological impulses that have historically produced domination, conflict, and suffering? Can we transcend the consciousness that continuously generates new desires, fears, divisions, and justifications for our behavior?

Perhaps that is the more difficult question. Perhaps it is even the more important one.

The problem with humanity may not be that we have failed to construct the perfect society. It may be that we are conscious beings attempting to construct perfection in a condition fundamentally characterized by imperfection, uncertainty, and suffering.

Capitalism may be one of our many mistakes.

Consciousness may be the reason we keep making them.