Robert Sirico is one of the leading lights in the Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty, a research organisation that promotes the benefits of free enterprise to the churches and more generally. Fr Robert is also a Roman Catholic priest, and so he also brings that ministry to bear in this book. In his Introduction he sets out his stated aim: to shed light on the economic and commercial setting of many of Jesus’s parables, as recorded in the New Testament. As he says: ‘my effort is … to detect the universal economic assumptions at play within the stories themselves, while at the same time acknowledging that these assumptions are not themselves the core intent, moral, or goal of the parable, and that, from time to time, Jesus turns such assumptions on their head to make his point.’ (page xvii). He recapitulates this point in his final section, which contains some broader thoughts on economics and the New Testament: ‘The primary focus of this book is on parables that exemplify these connections’ (page 148). As such, the author is not attempting to use the parables as the basis for instruction about economic policy or business practice. Rather, his intention is one of enriching our experience as we engage with them.

The heart of the book contains thirteen chapters, which in turn focus on a different parable – sometimes a group of related parables. These are: The Hidden Treasure (Matthew 13.44); The Pearl of Great Price (Matthew 13.45-46); The Sower (Matthew 13.3-9); The Labourers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20.1-16); The Rich Fool (Luke 12.13-21); The Two Debtors (Luke 7.37-50); The Talents (Matthew 25.14-30); The King Going to War (Luke 14.28-33); The House Built on a Rock (Luke 6.47-49); three parables which serve to give ‘Lessons in Stewardship’ (Luke 12.42-48, Matthew 24.45-51, Luke 16.1-13); The Good Samaritan (Luke 10.30-37); The Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16.19-31); The Prodigal Son (Luke 15.11-32). Every parable is printed out in full, in the traditional King James Version.

I felt that Sirico brought a preacher’s skills to bear very successfully in every case; he set me wondering about things, and thinking about how Jesus’s words might apply in my own life. For example, when considering the Parable of the Pearl of Great Price, he makes the obvious but interesting comment about pearls, that: ‘In the ancient world, they could not be manufactured; they had to be discovered’ (page 13). Another thought-provoking comment for me, in the Parable of the Labourers in the Vineyard, was the observation that: ‘in order to be practically generous – the virtue so abundantly displayed by the landowner in this parable – it is first necessary to have an abundant harvest, to create superfluous wealth…’ (page 37). When considering the Parable of the Two Debtors, Sirico includes a very interesting discussion about the idea of the ‘cost’ of mercy – ‘a notable act of charity, redolent with beauty, instructiveness, and inspiration’ (page 56). I was also surprised to realise that I’d never properly noticed that the Parable of the Prodigal Son follows two other ‘lost and found’ parables, a reminder for which I am very grateful (page 139).

On occasion, the author introduces a common preacher’s technique, that of re-telling the parable in a different and usually more contemporary way. For example, in the Lessons from Stewardship chapter, Sirico describes a ‘parable’ involving a CEO and their staff (the ‘stewards’), and the stockholders (the ‘owners’) (pages 103-104). He also suggests an analogy involving cars when considering the Parable of the Hidden Treasure (pages 3-4). However, his main intention is something more foundational, which is to provide more information to the reader about how economics works, so that a deeper appreciation of the parable in question can be had. This is a similar project to that of an historian or geographer, each able to give extra details about the context of a piece of teaching or writing. Economics as a subject is, at its best, interwoven with other disciplines such as history and geography, and Sirico’s project is in that sense admirable. He has helpful things to say about how markets operate, and the way in which contracts play an important part in this. However, there were occasional moments when I wanted to challenge some of his suggestions, for example when he equates a ‘negotiator’ with an ‘entrepreneur’ (page 15). It seems to me that the arbitrage function in markets is somewhat different to the way in which enterprise brings new possibilities about, and creates new markets; and indeed Sirico does hint at this as well, when at one point he brackets entrepreneurs with artists (page 27).

It is worth noting that, while extra technical contextual information about any subject can be very important, especially for those who like data and facts, there are other ways of approaching the Scriptures. For example, using the Lectio Divina method when reading a parable can be very rewarding for some, with its openness to a more sensory and imaginative approach. The ‘context’ then becomes the life of the person who approaches the parable, but it is still true that their own experience of life in an economy (working, buying, selling, owning) will be significant. In that vein, it is clearly important to the author that Jesus chooses so many ‘economic’ subjects for his parables; this reflects the fact that we are all economic agents, whether we realise it or not. To be alive as a human being is to be a player in countless markets.

Sirico does not aim to collect together and incorporate the wide variety of interpretations which scholars and preachers have applied to the parables. Of course, this is not a failing of the book, which has a different purpose. However, there were one or two moments when I felt that a particular interpretation could have been mentioned. For example, Augustine’s interpretation of the Parable of the Good Samaritan sees the wounded man as Adam and the Samaritan as Christ; and another interpretation asks us to see God as the one who takes the risk of travelling the dangerous road to be with us. I also felt that the grouping of the Parable of the Unjust Steward with the very different ‘Faithful Steward’ parables in chapter ten was perhaps a mistake. The ‘Unjust Steward’ parable is one of the most challenging, but the interpretation offered by Sam Wells in his 2019 book, A Future That’s Bigger than the Past, is very rich indeed; it was inspired by a lecture Wells heard Ched Myers give in 2006. I also noted that, in the Parable of the Talents, Sirico ignored Matthew 25.29: ‘For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.’ I have always felt that this is the exegetical key to the entire parable, but Sirico, like most commentators, implicitly brackets it as an irrelevant aside. Instead, he speculates about what would have happened if the third (lazy) servant had been entrepreneurial but lost his master’s money; ‘It is hard to imagine … that he would have been treated so harshly’ (p.73). Here, my own understanding of the very purpose of this parable does vary from that of the author.

Sirico strays from the stated purpose of his book in one particular manner quite often. He re-states this claimed purpose as he introduces the final parable, that of the Prodigal Son: ‘In our study of Jesus’ parables we have sought to fill in the gaps related to their economic presuppositions and ramifications rather than attempting to offer a comprehensive analysis of the parables in all their amazing and intriguing detail’ (page 134). However, the author frequently introduces his own implicit interpretation by pushing back against Christians and Church leaders who are wary of market economics, and against economic policies that damage the free operation of markets. Examples of Sirico in this mode include: ‘All too many thoughtful Christians see this fact of people coming together to share and exchange values for mutual benefit as morally suspicious’ (page 10). ‘Policies that encourage short-sightedness, such as high taxes, immobilizing regulations, and credit expansion are to be avoided because they confuse and obscure market signals necessary to discern the proper conditions for investment’ (page 87). This is despite his stated desire, in this book at least, to eschew a temptation to read back into the Scriptures the moral basis for market-based economics (page 43). For some readers, I felt this extra strand of interpretative comment might be annoying, although for others it will be helpful. Sirico adds a final chapter which magnifies this interpretative theme, and which draws upon his 2012 book, Defending the Free Market: The Moral Case for a Free Economy.

Each chapter of this book has a picture, for example William Hogarth’s rendition of ‘The Good Samaritan’ (page 112) and Johann Eck’s ‘The Sower’ (page 22). These are mostly quite historical in feel, although there is a slightly more contemporary ‘He Built on the Sand’ image (page 92). I wondered how it would have changed the feel of the book if these images had been more deliberately current and perhaps culturally varied. After all, economics is a theme that permeates every human society in the world. I did also notice that the Parable of the Talents was wrongly ascribed to Matthew 15 rather than chapter 25 (page 64). Not-withstanding these minor quibbles, I found the aim of this book to be very worthwhile, and its execution to be skilfully done.

‘The Economics of the Parables’ by Robert Sirico was published in 2022 by The Acton Institute / Regnery Gateway (ISBN: 978-1-68451-242-3). 204pp.

Edward Carter is Vicar of St Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich, having previously been the Canon Theologian at Chelmsford Cathedral, a parish priest in Oxfordshire, a Minor Canon at St George’s Windsor and a curate in Norwich. Prior to ordination he worked for small companies and ran his own business.

He is a former Chair of the Church Investors Group, an ecumenical body that represents over £10bn of church money, and which engages with a wide range of publicly listed companies on ethical issues. His research interests include the theology of enterprise and of competition, and his hobbies include board-games, ‘acrylic resin’ art, and film-making. He is married to Sarah and they have two adult sons.

This is a Vatican Press publication, which on one level is aimed at telling the story of the need for and successful actioning of reforms in the financial affairs of the Roman Catholic Church, especially the Roman Curia. As such, the preface by Sr. Raffaella Petrini, who is the Secretary General of the Governorate of Vatican City State, refers to good economics in the life of the church as an organisation and the management of its assets, and makes an early mention of Catholic social teaching as a rich and helpful resource. But the book also takes a broadly positive stance towards markets and enterprise, as Sr. Raffaella observes: ‘…a focus on the satisfaction of human needs points to economic systems that recognise the value of the market and entrepreneurship, the relevance of private property, freedom and human creativity, but also a concept of efficiency that includes the possibility for all to participate in the process of distribution and consumption’ (page 11). In this vein, the editors end their Introduction by expressing the following hope: ‘If the book inspires some readers to delve deeper and undertake further inquiries, perhaps even admire the social science of economics, encourage young Christians to study it and serve their country as entrepreneurs, then we would be overjoyed’ (page 22).

The book itself is a collection of ten separately authored chapters, and I offer some comments on each in turn.

Martin Schlag begins with a discussion of the contribution of Christian Humanism to economic thought. This sets the scene by making the important claims that economics does have an ethical aspect, and that there is a place for faith-based (Christian) contributions. I picked out a couple of thought-provoking statements. First, Schlag observes that: ‘Money apes God’ (page 35). This connects to the way in which money powerfully claims our attention and desires. Secondly, he claims that things like commerce, money and markets would have existed before the Fall (pages 37-38). I’m not sure I agree, but I’m pleased to have been stimulated in my thinking. Perhaps the most helpful section is a succinct and clear description of Catholic social thought, with its principles and norms (pages 48-51).

Joseph Kaboski gives the reader the first of three chapters which all touch on economic history. His focus is ‘growth’, and the ways in which economic growth can be balanced and sustainable (or fail to be). He gives a good survey of what we know about economic growth (pages 56-64), reminding us that it is a comparatively recent phenomenon of the past 200 years and rehearsing the extraordinarily powerful effect this growth has had on the world and human society. Mention is made in passing of Artificial Intelligence, but I would have liked more on this. He then considers the issues of sustainability and then balance, and in so doing introduces various themes that will be picked up by other contributors in subsequent chapters. While claiming that ‘The Lord did not want us to be part of a stagnant world…’ (page 78), Kaboski also observes that how we grow the economy is key, if this growth is to be a spiritual blessing.

Philip Booth’s chapter is entitled ‘Globalization and the Universal Church’. He begins by noting reasons why globalization can be unpopular, but his line is robustly positive, based on free movement of goods and services, as well as open migration. As comparative advantages are developed, this should be seen as a cooperative endeavour, and I had the feeling that Booth sees any political or societal push-back against globalization as being irrational. Whether his view stands up in the actual world of 2025 is an open question at best. I also felt his argument was weak when it came to the issue of local culture and traditions, and the way they are valued. I’d hoped that his title would open up scope for a reflection on the universality of the (Roman Catholic) Church, and how this might assist our thinking about the homogeneity of the global economy, but in fact he only mentions this briefly (page 89).

The final chapter on economic history is by Giovanni Farese, who looks at the development and evolution of economic systems. He begins with a wide-ranging list of fourteen ‘factors’ that may be important (number ten is ‘religion’), and then moves into a broad-brush narrative which describes the move away from feudalism to a modern capitalist economy. He is honest about the challenges within this story, for example the First World War and the arrival of ‘big government’. These challenges are unfurled in the form of a descriptive list, with not a great deal of interpretation, but are helpful none-the-less. The Ukraine war makes it in, but not the second Trump presidency. However, Farese flags up what he calls the ‘trilemma’ (page 133) of democracy, openness to globalization, and national sovereignty; which three things he observes are hard to reconcile.

The next three chapters are concerned with the power of market economics, but the ways in which they can ‘fail’, and in this spirit Brian Griffiths takes as his title: ‘Markets and Prices: Are They Always Efficient?’ His initial answer is, not always, but they are ‘…far more effective than any other economic system that has been tried’ (page 140). This helpfully earths the discussion in the reality of experience rather than simply the realm of theory. Griffiths sets himself three main questions. The first asks, ‘Why do markets create prosperity?’, and I was pleased to see him deploy not just the solid ‘economic’ arguments connected to flexible prices, competition and enterprise, but also to draw in the Christian perspectives of social liberty, human dignity, the goodness of work, and the care for God’s world. The second question asks, ‘Why do markets fail?’, and he touches on the familiar subjects of externalities (spill-over costs), public goods (which need a collective decision), and monopoly power (supply restriction). Griffiths does also mention the problem of markets encroaching on territory that they properly should not, and the particular challenge of the 2008/9 financial crisis: ‘…a huge subject…’ (page 154). The third question asks, ‘How should government respond to market failure?’, the answer involving use of the tax system and rationing (statutory and perhaps tradable quotas). But Griffiths expresses caution and points to unintended consequences. Instead he makes warm mention of the work done by Elinor Ostrom on community self-regulation (page 157), something which I noted to follow up with interest.

Richard Turnbull then takes up the baton, with a closer treatment of externalities and the potential role of public bodies to intervene. He starts by listing various types of intervention: price controls; minimum service standards; lowering barriers to market entry; fines and subsidies; control of monetary policy. These are tools available in the face of various kinds of market failure. He then weaves together a discussion which draws on a theological perspective as well as a stance typically taken by economists as they feel for a proper role for government. The Christian element of this discussion is by necessity concise and perhaps rather selective, but rich none-the-less, drawing notably on the ‘two kingdoms’ approach of the Reformers. Turnbull’s conclusion is that ‘…the state has a proper role, in welfare and economics, but not to the exclusion of our personal responsibility and accountability’ (page 179). This set me wondering if this balance is itself a political decision, or something that emerges more organically. Ultimately Turnbull himself comes down slightly more on the side of market solutions to the problems of externalities, and gives theological reasons for this stance (pages 186-187).

Carlo Bellavite Pellegrini and Andrea Roncella then take as their title ‘Money, Finance and Banking: Can They be Ethical?’, and use this as a launchpad to sketch out both a technical and an ethical framework. The treatment of ‘money’ draws upon conventional observations, but adds in some interesting reflections. For example, there is a claim that without money the economy and human existence would ‘regress’ (page 196); also the statement that ‘…money is a set of possibilities…’ (page 197), which reminded me of the power implicit in money; and the observation that money is ‘…the best symbol of our free control of time…’ (page 197). I found these reflections stimulating, even if they were left somewhat hanging in the air. The authors then progress to ‘finance’, and the comparatively recent development of financial capitalism. They flag up problematic issues which arise when financial instruments are ’corrupted’ (page 202) and are no longer used for the common good, for example the mortgage securitization processes which ushered in the 2008 crisis. The third topic is ‘banking’, the concept of which is explained nicely, as well as the need for good capitalisation and reserves if stability is to be found. Pellegrini and Roncella describe the need for good structures and regulations, as well as ‘virtue’ on the part of the people involved: ‘…a transformation of the hearts of individuals’ (page 203). For me, this conclusion was perfectly reasonable but perhaps rather uncritically presented as springing out of Catholic social teaching. I would have enjoyed more in the way of engagement with the richness of the Christian tradition.

The final three chapters turn more overtly to church practice. Marta Rocchi borrows from (or provides?) the title of the whole book in her chapter: ‘Business Ethics for Ecclesiastics: A Virtue Ethics Perspective’, noting the extent and variety of ‘business ethics’ methodologies, and asking how this wisdom can be employed when it comes to the running of ecclesiastical structures. Rocchi’s chosen tool is virtue ethics, and she provides a useful description of how the four cardinal virtues can be mapped onto church management issues. I was especially struck by the link she makes between the virtue of ‘courage’ – even ‘magnificence’ and ‘perseverance’ (pages 228-229) – and enterprise. This would make a whole thesis of its own! Her conclusion points to the need for education aimed at improving church management, with the suggestion of teaming up with business schools. I wondered if this might be a rallying cry for organisations such as the Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics.

The next chapter, authored by Luca Mongelli and Fernando Crovetto, is entirely concerned with telling the story of one example of the institutional church in entrepreneurial mode. This is an account of the ‘Salto di Fondi’ project, involving some land near Rome that was acquired and developed over a number of years before being sold. The premise set out by the authors is that the church ‘…needs to adapt with skill, creativity and innovation to historical and cultural changes’ (page 238). I enjoyed the narrative, but felt more interpretation could have been offered. One thing that caught my eye was the importance of a specific encounter and conversation, and the need for attentiveness when it comes to spotting opportunities – something that in my mind connects closely to enterprise.

The final chapter, by Carmelo Barbagallo and Giuseppe Schlitzer, is focused entirely on a description of the changes made in the financial systems in the Vatican City State since 2009, when the Euro was adopted. No doubt these changes were necessary and important, and the technical narrative is detailed. I must confess to having skipped through it somewhat, and I found the section detailing the recent external assessment of very satisfactory progress rather self-congratulatory, but I imagine that for some in the Roman Catholic Church the detail set out here is key, and the progress made reassuring. I did not have the sense that the earlier chapters led up to this concluding piece, but perhaps the various reflections set the context within which the reforms at the Vatican are clearly right.

In sum, I was pleased to read this book, and have taken away several snippets to ponder. Parts of it would serve very well as a primer for Christians who want to know more about how the economy works, and about how theology can contribute. Taken as a whole, it might well also succeed in the aim of the editors, in encouraging young Christians to study economics, and to ‘serve their country as entrepreneurs’.

Economics for Ecclesiastics: A Guide, edited by Martin Schlag and Giuseppe Schlitzer was published in 2024 by Libreria Editrice Vaticana (ISBN 978-88-266-0921-8). 286pp.

Edward Carter is Vicar of St Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich, having previously been the Canon Theologian at Chelmsford Cathedral, a parish priest in Oxfordshire, a Minor Canon at St George’s Windsor and a curate in Norwich. Prior to ordination he worked for small companies and ran his own business.

He is a former Chair of the Church Investors Group, an ecumenical body that represents over £10bn of church money, and which engages with a wide range of publicly listed companies on ethical issues. His research interests include the theology of enterprise and of competition, and his hobbies include board-games, ‘acrylic resin’ art, and film-making. He is married to Sarah and they have two adult sons.

With the subtitle of this book being ‘Your Guide to Meaningful Work in a Changing World’ the reader would assume that O’Donnell’s book would provide guidance on how we can be better at our jobs and find fulfillment with the paid work that we do. This book, however, does not really achieve this end. This is not to say that this is not a good book to read, but the reader needs to understand what they will get out of this book before reading it. This is a book that can assist the reader in acknowledging and using the gifts and talents God has given us for the work we do. The work and business examples that are provided in each chapter evolved from the research that the author conducted while completing her doctoral dissertation. This book is written by a woman who provides many examples of the challenges women have when balancing life and work. Each chapter includes many stories of leaders, employees, and entrepreneurs and their experiences with their work and work environment.

The book is written with three distinct sections, each having several chapters that expound on the focus of the section, with each chapter ending with some exercises that assist with the practical application of what was written about in the chapter. The first section is called ‘Where Do You Want To Go?’ and includes 3 chapters that discuss the challenges that most people are facing in today’s world of work. (Note that the author is writing for an audience in the developed world and does not include the challenges that someone might experience in under-developed nations). O’Donnell briefly discusses the economy, the new tools and technologies that are now used in work, and the feelings and emotions experienced by workers in today’s organizations. She proposes and challenges dysfunctional beliefs about work that Christians may have and attempts to explain what God’s calling is for our lives. Even though these chapters may set the stage for our current situation they don’t really motivate the reader to read further in the book. The saving grace of this section is Chapter 2, where the author discusses the concept of ‘lean in and let go’ and where she acknowledges that God is in control of our situations. This discussion possibly sets the stage for moving on into the second section of the book where the reader learns more about how to lean in and let go.

The second section of the book is entitled ‘Who Will You Become?’ and has 4 chapters that discuss how to be entrepreneurial in your work and business. In the author’s bio, listed on the back cover of the book, she is identified as an entrepreneur and so she has an understanding of what it feels like to start a business. Throughout the chapters in this section, she uses many of her own business experiences, in addition to the answers to questions she asked entrepreneurs while completing her doctoral research, to explain many of the concepts discussed in these chapters. O’Donnell refers to several significant topics such as the importance of building relationships, understanding creativity, and developing resilience skills. In this section of the book she utilizes many scriptural references to explain how God always uses relationships in the building of His kingdom, how creative the Lord was in the creation of the world and all that is in it, and how Jesus was resilient in all that He endured. The use of some of the biblical references, however, can appear to be forced when relating these to the topics being discussed. One example of this is in Chapter 7 where the author uses the Easter story as a demonstration for building resilience; this application to work in our current situations seems a bit contrived. Since this section of the book was focused on being entrepreneurial in your work, it may appear that this book is written for people who want to start their own businesses; this may cause some readers to feel that this book would not be a guidebook for them in making their work meaningful in a changing world.

The last section of the book is entitled ‘How Will You Get There?’ and includes 4 chapters that focus on having empathy, imagination, and taking risks. This section ends by reflecting on our past and considering how we got to where we are today. In these chapters O’Donnell re-emphasizes our need to be entrepreneurial in all we do and explains good techniques for being a successful entrepreneur. Once again, though, these chapters don’t seem to fit within the main purpose of the book, which is to make any and all work meaningful in a changing world. The thoughts in these chapters could, however, assist entrepreneurs in being more effective and successful in their entrepreneurial ventures, as they deal with their failures and successes.

In conclusion, I found the book hard to read as there seemed to be no clear focus and end goal. Most chapters were well written, but the discussions did not always hang together inside the chapter or with the following chapters. The book did not successfully provide the reader with a conclusion on how to make their everyday work meaningful. The first 3 chapters probably should appear at the end of the book, as they summarize the current situation and demonstrate how all the concepts that are discussed in the following chapters provide some of the needed skills and direction on how to better manage our current work situations. Many of the chapters read like stand-alone essays (or good talks for a conference or podcast), which are good in themselves, but don’t always lead the reader to further knowledge in how to make work matter. The integration of scripture in some of the chapters and areas of focus seemed to be forced and doesn’t provide a cohesive understanding of what was really being meant by the scripture passages being used. Overall, the best chapter in the book is Chapter 6, where there is a wonderful exposition on creativity and God’s role in our ability to create. The author provides many gems in this discussion and causes the reader to truly consider our ability to be continually creative in all we do, remembering that God is the creator and we work with Him in all we create in our lives.

Due to the structure of each chapter including many anecdotes, and the fact that the majority of the references cited were not from academic books or articles, this is not an academic treatise about the integration of faith and work. This could be a good book for a Christian book study in which people in their early career stages have a desire to better understand how to integrate their faith with their work. The questions at the end of each chapter allow for good discussion and could elicit more answers as to how to make work matter, and these answers could actually create a guide-book for creating meaningful work in a changing world.

‘Make Work Matter: Your Guide to Meaningful Work in a Changing World’ by Michaela O’Donnell was published in 2021 by Baker Books (ISBN: 978-5-40-90160-6). 234 pp.

Andrea Soberg is a retired professor of human resource management from Trinity Western University in Canada. She continues to be active within the global academic and business community by researching, writing, and assisting organizations that have a focus on business as mission.

In My Year with God, Svend Brinkmann seeks to explore how someone can find meaning in religious faith in a modern, secularised world informed by science. The book is set out as a diary spanning one year, with each month addressing a particular question in connection with religion or faith. Thus, the author documents his thinking on a range of subjects, such as what religion is, how it might relate to morality or what the nature of the soul might be. The approach is commendable: the writing is accessible and honest, and Brinkmann adopts an enquiring and thoughtful approach to his subject. Indeed, he states from the outset that he has always been ambivalent about religion but recognises many important insights from religion and religious philosophy. As a Professor of Psychology (as well as a renowned public speaker, the author of several books and presenter of a radio series), Brinkmann is very knowledgeable and is as at home with philosophy and sociology as he is with his own discipline. It becomes clear fairly early on, however, that while he considers himself a ‘cultural Christian’, the book is to depart some way from the central tenets of Christianity. 

Distinguishing between faith and religion, Brinkmann considers the former to be personal and connected with the individual’s ‘total reaction upon life’ (to use the language of William James), while the latter is defined in communal or social terms, as a collection of rituals and symbols that binds people together.

Following John Caputo’s thought about the ‘weak God’, he arrives at a position whereby God, as an independently existing, transcendent being, is rejected in favour of a view that considers the Almighty to be ‘the unconditional’: a moral demand that we recognise the obligation to help fellow human beings in need. God is thus recast as the absence of human perfection, which we strive to address: ‘ … God can be considered a term denoting an absence in the world – one humans are required to remedy to the best of their ability’ (page 168).

Likewise, while opposing a mechanistic view of human beings as robots made of meat, Brinkmann suggests that the soul is not an object that we can locate; rather, following Wittgenstein, he suggests that it is a way of regarding others – as people rather than objects – that demands a certain attitude. As the author says with regard to both the soul (pages 85-87) and God (pages 39-45), they insist rather than exist. Thus, they are really terms to describe moral obligations, the character of existence and our attitudes to others. Likewise, the notions of resurrection and the afterlife are reinterpreted in terms of one’s legacy in the community to future generations, in passing on the importance of our moral obligations.

As for the Bible, this is understood as expressing truths about human nature in terms of social psychology (in the creation story found in Genesis), while the teaching of Jesus highlights the moral demands of the unconditional: ‘The Bible is, therefore, a source of both psychology and ethics. As I see it, both can be expressed without a mythical belief in an omnipotent, celestial God or the rewards of an imagined afterlife … the teachings of the Bible pave the way for perhaps the most real and meaningful form of faith, because it’s only with the death of God – the revelation of the impotence of the Almighty’s omnipotence, as symbolised by the Crucifixion – that humankind is called upon to have faith. After that, it’s up to us. The Bible’s promises of resurrection and eternal life then become about passing down the narrative of the unconditional to succeeding generations’ (page 114). Jesus, then, becomes a person who embodied ‘the unconditional’ in Christianity, about whom we tell stories in the absence of any proof of the existence of God – the unconditional (page 182-3).

When reinterpreted in secular terms, then, religion and faith ultimately have to do with our moral relations with others and the search for meaning, and provide a way of speaking about these central aspects of our lives in a way that the purely causal, mechanistic, materialistic language of empirical science cannot. An important facet of religion, therefore, is what it enables us to say or express. As the author says, ‘ … we need the language of poetry and religion to comprehend life. If it makes sense to talk about religious truth, then it must be poetic’ (page 179). Religion and faith therefore help us to express those experiences and relations that are of fundamental importance to us as human beings, but the traditional truths posited by religion are re-interpreted in secular terms. In accordance with the author’s ‘social’ definition of religion, many of our secular practices (such as grieving and commemoration) retain a religious character.

Given that this book amounts to the author’s personal reflections on a series of religious questions – and one conducted in a respectful and open manner – it is difficult to be critical. As Brinkmann himself says, ‘Many will object that this is a very strange idea of God. And that’s fine’ (page 178). There are several matters that invite comment, however. Some might wonder whether his treatment of scripture is somewhat thin: reducing Jesus’ teaching to a message about the unconditional, for instance, is perhaps something of an over-simplification that misses the radical novelty of Jesus’ message, particularly in relation to the Hebrew scriptures. The author does acknowledge that he runs the risk of being accused of being a dilettante when it comes to theology but expresses the hope that his reflections will provide food for thought (page 172-3). Interestingly on the matter of scripture, he asks: ‘why is it the Bible, of all books, that is so crucial to conveying the message of the unconditional? Why couldn’t it be Harry Potter or Star Wars, both of which are also about good and evil? An essential part of the answer is probably that it is simply due to the Bible’s reception history. It is the Bible, and especially the New Testament, that conveyed this message first – and most clearly. Other texts simply follow its lead’ (page 118). Many Christians would take the view that the reason for the Bible’s reception is that is emphatically not like Harry Potter or Star Wars, as libraries of exegetical scholarship have demonstrated.

A more fundamental problem is that the book fails to engage directly with religion itself, as lived and experienced by its practitioners. The subtitle, which does not appear on the cover, is ‘Faith for Doubters’. Both title and subtitle might lead one to expect a book in which the author, though sceptical, decides to give religion a try in its concrete form – perhaps by attending church services, visiting catechetical groups or talking to worshippers – and recording his reflections. Since the book was written at the time of the COVID-19 pandemic, perhaps this was an intention that was thwarted, but it is an unfortunate omission and can only result in a somewhat hollowed-out analysis of the content and role of faith in people’s lives. A fundamental aspect of religious life is missed and a good deal of the core content of religion is removed by (re-)interpretation. Religion and faith are thereby reduced to an individual ‘reaction on life’, a set of symbols and rituals that have a social role, a form of language and a moral demand. Given the author’s starting point, perhaps this is the most sympathetic and complete treatment one could expect – but it is thoroughly immanent. In placing everything squarely in this world and stripping away the transcendent, together with the experience of religion itself, the final picture that emerges is a long way from anything that most Christians would recognise.

Sympathetic, honest and open as it is, this book represents a year of reflection, using scholarly resources, on questions relating to faith and religion – but it is not a year with God. As a thoughtful and personal reinterpretation of God, faith and religion, that seeks meaning in a modern, secular context, it is interesting, but those approaching it from the position of an existing faith are likely to find little with which they can seriously engage.

‘My Year With God: Faith for Doubters’ by Svend Brinkmann, was published in 2022 by Polity (ISBN: 978-1-5095-5272-6). 193pp

Neil Jordan is Senior Editor at the Centre for Enterprise, Markets and Ethics. For more information about Neil please click here.

In this deeply researched study, Joseph Slaughter describes the organization, economic power, and cultural impact of three different Christian businesses in pre-Civil War America. He calls attention to the underappreciated of role of Christian enterprise in the development of capitalism and points to descendants of his three examples among evangelical businesses today.

Harmony is Slaughter’s first example. Under the zealous authority of George Rapp, the community of German Lutheran immigrants dominated textile manufacturing in several parts of Pennsylvania and Indiana in the 1820s and 1830s. Harmonists were not always welcome neighbors. With cotton mills, silkworm farms, and new steamboats, Harmonists competed for markets and resources with more efficient organization and more aggressive fiscal operations than their neighbors.

Expectations of Christ’s immanent return contributed to their work ethic and separatism from ordinary society. Rapp’s commune was laying the groundwork for Christ’s return, and the new millennium Christ would inaugurate. With that prospect in mind, community members worked as a unit with strict rules and a strong leader, apart from the allegedly corrupt world of their neighbors.

The Pioneer Stagecoach Line is Slaughter’s second example. In contrast to the separatist piety behind Harmonist enterprise, the Sabbatarian business led by Josiah Bissell, Jr. sought reform and moral improvement throughout American society. Unlike other stagecoach lines in upstate New York that ran seven days a week, the Pioneer Line stood firm against the sin of work on Sundays. Funded by Calvinist Presbyterians and Congregationalists, with cooperating inns along the line to accommodate rest and worship on Sundays, the Pioneer Line aspired to hold all Americans to the nation’s covenant with God, modeled on that of ancient Israel.

The Line enjoyed some initial success. Only a year after its inception in 1828, it commanded two-fifths of the market for stagecoach travel in the busy region around the newly opened Erie Canal. But this success was short-lived. While some riders welcomed morally upright travel, Josiah Bissell’s aggressive sanctimoniousness irritated others, making him a butt of jokes. The Line also struggled to find and retain experienced, cooperative drivers. It went out of business in the early 1830s.

Slaughter’s third and most compelling example of Christian business success is Harper & Brothers. Founded by four siblings and staunch Methodists, Harper’s grew from a printing business into the foremost publishing enterprise in pre-Civil War America. Headquartered in New York City, Harper & Brothers struck it rich with the Illuminated Bible they published in 1846, followed by the popular Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, first published in 1850 and still in print today under an amended title. Harper & Brothers is the most lucrative, expansive, and long-lasting of Slaughter’s examples.

In Slaughter’s typology of Christian businesses – Pietist, Reform, and Arminian – Harper’s exemplifies Arminianism, a theological term for belief in the free will often associated with Methodism. As an expression of their investment in free will, the Harper brothers approached their book and magazine business as means of encouraging virtue in individuals through helpful reading. The Harper Brothers engaged with individuals in the world around them, unlike the Harmonists whose Pietism demanded separation from the corruption of their neighbors. And unlike the challenge to Sunday travel posed by Sabbatarian stagecoaches, Slaughter characterizes the Harper’s Arminian enterprise as an effort not to Reform the world by challenging its immorality but to redeem the world through individual persuasion.

The great contribution of Slaughter’s book lies in his attention to three examples of Christian enterprise in the early United States, never studied as thoroughly before, or sufficiently appreciated for the varying degrees of economic and cultural influence they exerted. That said, Slaughter’s case for the importance of Christian enterprise in pre-Civil War America rests mainly on the shoulders of Harper & Brothers. While some conservative Christians complained about Harper & Brothers’ openness to fiction, and some intellectuals complained about the Brothers’ lack of interest in serious new literature, Harper publications played a major role in shaping the reading culture of nineteenth century America.

The relationship between the Harpers’ Arminianism and the emerging culture of American consumerism merits further discussion. Slaughter invites but does not pursue discussion of religion’s contribution to consumerism, and the prominent role of Methodism and its offshoots played in shaping and propelling its development.

There is also more to be said about the impact of economic and industrial development on Christian life in the early US. In his fine-tuned descriptions of industrial innovation at Harmony, the Pioneer Line, and Harper Brothers, Slaughter invites discussion of industrialism’s influence on American religion but does not develop it.

With respect to Slaughter’s claim that, “the role played by CBEs (Christian business enterprises) offers an alternative to the competing narratives of the Social Control and Democratization Schools” of American religious history, I would disagree. Slaughter’s examples point not to a third and alternative narrative for American religious history but rather to an interesting combination of social control and democratization.

It is difficult to imagine a stronger example of religion as a form of social control than George Rapp’s community. He ruled Harmony with a firm hand, organizing his people as if they were cogs in a machine, with each adult assigned to one specific task to be repeated perfectly. Rapp organized children as well, tasking them with powering mills and gathering worms.

The Reform stagecoach line established by Josiah Bissell can also be appreciated as an effort at social control. Bissell wanted Americans to observe the Sabbath as he thought it should be observed. His Pioneer Line was created to reform the business of American travel, based on the principle that Sabbath observance was fundamental to Christian life and to the nation’s upholding of its covenant with God.

With their commitment to reading as a means of persuading individuals toward virtue, Harper & Brothers falls more easily into a democratization narrative about American religious history. But the Harper’s story also shows how democratization and social control could be overlapping. The Harper story supports a democratization story in which a religious business is able to shape society precisely because it is more indirect, and more respectful of individual will than Pietist or Reform business.

Through the triumph of Arminianism outline in this book, Faith in Markets points to the integration of familiar and often competing narratives of social control and democratization. Evidence of that integration can be seen in the trajectory of Christian enterprise that Slaughter’s examples reveal. Readers interested in US economic history will enjoy this book, as will readers interested in the interplay of religion and American business.

‘Faith in Markets: Christian Capitalism in the Early American Republic’ by Joseph P. Slaughter was published in 2023 by Columbia University Press (ISBN: 978-0-23-119111-1). 400pp.

Amanda Porterfield, Emerita Professor of Religion at Florida State University, is the author of Corporate Spirit: Religion and the Rise of the Modern Corporation (Oxford University Press, 2018).

There are a myriad of books, academic articles, blogs, consultants’ websites, etc. that focus on leadership and explain how to be a good leader of people and organizations. Many of us who teach in the field of leadership can spout off the names of those who have created concepts, theories, and models of leadership. We can talk about when and how to use a transformational or transactional style and what characteristics make a good leader. In his book, Rooted Leadership, Johnson proposes a different perspective on leadership – he refers to all these styles and behaviours of past authors and researchers but enhances these concepts by introducing a theological perspective on leadership. He goes beyond the focus on servant leadership, that many Christians espouse as the best leadership style, and provides a greater biblical grounding for how we should lead. He states that leadership studies don’t generally embrace a theology of leadership, and thus, as a theologian, he feels this knowledge gap needs to be corrected. For those of us who teach in Christian colleges and universities, and those who are Christians holding down a leadership role in an organization, a theological perspective on leadership is what we should be understanding, integrating in our teaching, and demonstrating in our behaviours. In his introduction to the book, Johnson states: ‘without a solid theological foundation, Christians will continue to buy into a sociological basis for human leadership, one that can become a functional heresy’ (page xv).

The book is divided into eleven chapters that answer different questions that leaders may ask about leadership. Each chapter provides many scholarly references that support his perspective, in addition to scripture that reinforces his thoughts and comments on a theology of leadership. Johnson refers to many of the well-known, and regularly cited, concepts and models, such as Kouzes and Posner’s transformational leadership model, Hershey and Blanchard’s situational leadership model, and Jim Collins’ examples of transforming a good organization into a great organization. He also refers to many Christian authors, such as Robert Greenleaf, Mark Buchanan, and John Maxwell, and their writings on leadership, in addition to respected theologians such as J.I. Packer, Eugene Peterson, Henri Nouwen, and N.T. Wright, explaining scripture. (A quick view of the 15 pages of bibliography demonstrates the depth of reading Johnson did before composing this theology of leadership.) He ends each chapter with a practical case of how a person in scripture demonstrated the leadership characteristic or challenge which the chapter is discussing.

Chapter 1 provides a framework for understanding a theology of leadership. Johnson begins by explaining why universities, colleges, and seminaries refer more to a secular view of leadership rather than a theological view. He discusses the impact that culture has had on our desire for a more pragmatic understanding of the world around us. This desire for the practical understanding of leadership has pushed the research and teaching of leadership studies into an anthropological and sociological study. He further indicates that philosophy and theology have been pushed aside for these other areas to be the demonstrators of knowledge and wisdom; due to this fact, he believes that an understanding of correct leadership will be skewed. He takes many pages in this chapter to expound upon our need for knowledge of the divine. He quotes from Shepherds After My Own Heart by Timothy Laniak, by stating: ‘True leadership, rooted leadership, can be understood only in terms of a fully integrated theological vision of God and his work on earth’ (page 13).

Chapters 2 through 4 define what leadership is, why leadership is necessary, and how one becomes a leader. Johnson focuses on how Jesus led His disciples in His ministry on earth – He was a servant. Johnson clearly defines servant leadership as one that does not diminish the authority of the leader and that our servanthood begins with service to God. He identifies that leadership is always present when decisions need to be made and when change is occurring around us; Johnson indicates that leaders are an integral part of God’s design and purpose. He further discusses how one becomes a leader, stating that ‘there is no such thing as chance, destiny, or luck in God’s kingdom . . . theology declares that God determines the course’ (page 74). The theological perspective of leadership is that it is a summons.

Chapters 5 through 7 explain the character traits and skills that good leaders possess. Of all the chapters in this book, these are probably the chapters that most current and future leaders will want to read and focus their thoughts upon. Johnson begins by stating that all the best leadership traits are focused on the heart of a leader – he indicates how failed leadership has everything to do with ‘unprincipled hearts’ (page 99). He explains the five traits that are critical for principled leadership – these are love, justice, humility, integrity, and diligence – and discusses the importance of God’s wisdom in understanding how and when to demonstrate these traits. With this guidance from God, the leader’s abilities to follow, to think, to see, to shape, to communicate, to manage, and to implement will be easily and effectively demonstrated.

Chapters 8 and 9 discuss the roles leaders play and how power and influence should be used. The focus is on how a leader needs to fulfill an organization’s mission and ensure that its values are exemplified. The challenge with these two chapters is that the discussion centres around organizations in which the mission and values are in accordance with Christ. These chapters do not clearly address how leaders fulfill their mission and vision achievement role in organizations that don’t have a Christian foundation and are not focused on how to minister to the world around them. The discussion in these chapters, however, provides much guidance to leaders working within the church and Christian communities.

Chapter 10 acknowledges the importance of suffering when in a leadership role and how it can be beneficial to developing a good leader. Johnson discusses many things that those of us in leadership experience – setbacks, misunderstandings, alienation, loneliness, personal failures, adversaries, loss – and provides guidance on how to manage our way through these challenges. This chapter provides much encouragement to help us endure through these times of suffering.

Chapter 11 ends the book with how leaders end their responsibilities and roles as a leader, and how a positive transition can occur. Johnson acknowledges the difficulties leaders have when letting go of this important part of their life; for some, their identity has been their leadership role. He explains the need for developing successors and discusses why good leaders should be sharing of their gifts and talents for ensuring the next generation of leaders are leading as God would have them do. Johnson goes on to provide many scriptural references on leadership in God’s future kingdom, which are good to contemplate, but the discussion is lacking in how past leaders, those who are followers of Christ, can effectively manage their future roles (no longer as a leader) while still here on earth.

To conclude, this book definitely adds to the field of leadership studies and fills a gap in our understanding of leadership from a theological perspective, which is greatly needed in Christian universities and colleges. The only reference that most of us use when teaching leadership is Greenleaf’s and Blanchard’s explanation of servant leadership, so having more scripture to refer to when explaining Godly leadership is imperative. The areas of the book, however, that are lacking in advancing the study of leadership are in the discussion of leaders in secular organizations; the addition of this would make this book a great book for Christians in the marketplace.

‘Rooted Leadership: Seeking God’s Answers to the Eleven Core Questions Every Leader Faces’ by John E. Johnson was published in 2022 by Zondervan (ISBN: 978-0-310-120872). 282 pp.

Andrea Soberg is a retired professor of human resource management from Trinity Western University in Canada. She continues to be active within the global academic and business community by researching, writing, and assisting organizations that have a focus on business as mission.

The first time that I read a serious academic work about Adam Smith and The Wealth of Nations, I recall being stuck by just how compatible his metaphor of the invisible hand was with the Christian doctrine of providence. It seemed to me then that a project that sought to harmonize the two would be a worthy undertaking. Of course, Smith and his works have been the subject of significant scrutiny and debate by both philosophers and economists, and this has resulted in myriad theories about his own personal religious beliefs and how those religious beliefs may have factored into his work. Some insist that Smith was an atheist, others insist that he was a devout Christian bordering on modern evangelical fervor, with dozens of positions falling in between.

Long takes on this issue with erudition and clarity. The opening chapters provide helpful overviews of several preliminary issues. First, the author surveys the state of the academic conversation that has accompanied a resurgence of interest in Smith. Next, he moves on to summarizing the various philosophical and theological influences on Smith and the various perspectives among scholars as to the nature of Smith’s faith. Only at this point does Long make his own argument regarding the Christian faith and Adam Smith’s thought.

Subscribe to receive book reviews by email

It is important to note that this particular field of Smith studies has been defined by what is known as the ‘Adam Smith problem.’ Given that his two most notable works, Theory of Moral Sentiments and Wealth of Nations, are central works of two different fields—philosophy and economics, respectively—it is easily lost on even academics engaging in one field or the other that Smith’s tone, references, and methodology engage with Christian theology in very different ways. Many within the field have attempted to bridge the gap and provide a universal theory that harmonizes the two approaches. Frankly, my own engagement with Smith has been quite siloed, so I found Long’s discussion of this issue to be quite helpful and enlightening.

But, who cares? Are Smith’s theories any more or less helpful as a result of the role that religion played in his own thinking and intellectual formation? Prior to engaging in his own analysis, Long argues that it does matter: ‘side-stepping…Smith’s theism has led to an impoverishment in Smithian studies.’ Only when we understand the origin of Smith’s thought can we appreciate the unitary goal of his writing, which according to Long, ‘is ultimately an attempt to produce a coherence theory of human nature that deals with the tension between altruistic love of neighbour, a Christian interpretation of morality, and the reality of self-love through a complex narrative of unintended human action which is part of a providential plan written into the moral fabric of human relationships.’ Teleologically, Smith’s project is anthropological in nature before it is either philosophical or economic. Understanding it rightly, Long argues, ‘represents a call for contemporary philosophy of economics to return to its source in the moral philosophy which is a complex synthesis of the individual’s moral constitution and the role that it plays in the development of the common good.’

Long convincingly argues that the ‘Adam Smith problem’ is solved by recognizing ‘a unifying philosophical core’ in Smith’s diverse works rather than a common methodology, as others have attempted. According to Long, the ‘underlying and organizing principle is…a particular reading of the human as an ethical person.’ Smith understands people to be moral agents who are complex. Self-interest, a theme in Smith’s work that is often criticized as being incompatible with Christian ethics, can be rightly understood as a complex concept with moral and material concerns interwoven when Smith is read through this lens.

Long asserts that ‘in the world of contemporary economic theory people are reduced to variables in a system of linear algebra and differential calculus.’ While most economists, especially Christian ones, would likely take issue with this assertion, it is undeniable that most quantitative research in the field requires the reduction of complex circumstances, motivations, etc. to very narrow, specific, and measurable variables. The value of this type of research is certain, but also limited. It often provides a snapshot of just one narrow aspect of a much more complex issue. That type of work shouldn’t be abandoned. Long’s proposition, however, is that understanding Smith’s work on its own terms, which includes certain theological and philosophical assumptions, has explanatory power that a ‘ruthless mechanistic system’ simply does not have. A recovery of a right understanding of Smith’s work will provide a framework for understanding the economic decisions made by moral agents who ‘operate in a complex world of interpersonal subjectivity driven by a combination of personal and social motivations and by ethical principles.’

One weakness of many approaches to harmonizing Smith’s works is that many seem to be hampered by anachronisms of one variety or another. Smith wrote before the dawn of modern psychology and died well before the emergence of various religious movements. As a result, attempting to square any of his thought with these subsequent developments presents problems. Long, however, has carefully avoided this. I expected to find some indicators of bias driven by the author’s prior assumptions, but these are absent in this work. His analysis is clear, serious, and without any obvious bias to make Smith ‘say’ what Long might hope he would say. His work is not driven by a desire to land at a place with a particular bent toward or against capitalism or Christian theology, but proceeds from what is commonly known about Smith’s life and influences and remains closely tied to the text of Smith’s various writings. Long has contributed something quite helpful to those interested in the fields to which Smith studies belong.

‘Adam Smith and the Invisible Hand of God’ by Brendan Long was published in 2023 by Routledge (ISBN: 978-1-03-207336-1). 178pp.

Trey Dimsdale is an associate fellow with CEME as well as the Executive Director of the Center for Religion, Culture, & Democracy (CRCD), the educational and cultural initiative of First Liberty Institute. He is also an contributing editor at Providence, a magazine focused on Christianity and international relations. He holds a law degree from the University of Missouri-Kansas City, as well as degrees in ethics and political science.

Andrew Hartropp, an Anglican Minister with doctorates in both theology and economics, has written this introductory book to help equip people to ‘live and speak for Jesus Christ in today’s world’ with the underlying conviction that doing economic justice is indeed part of this living and speaking for Christ. Its arguments are laid out clearly and the book is well written and accessible.

The balanced tone is set in the opening chapter which recognises that there are alternative foundations for justice (rights, needs and merits) and that in a pluralistic world an agreed understanding of justice can be elusive. Accordingly, Hartropp outlines a biblical understanding of economic justice which provides the framework for the book as a whole. It’s an understanding that rests on the claims that justice, including economic justice, is rooted in who God is, that God has built justice into creation and that the Bible discloses to us what justice is (page 12).

Hartropp identifies four key aspects of a biblical understanding of economic justice. ‘It means treating people appropriately, according to the norms and principles given by God; it requires a special concern for people who are poor, needy and economically weak; it emphasizes the quality of relationships – notably one-to-one relationships; and it means that everyone participates in God’s blessings, including material blessings’ (page 148).

Sign up to receive new reviews by email

Part One of the book looks at how we do economic justice in our own relationships as consumers, in the workplace and in local church communities.

The reader is challenged to look critically at the dominance of consumerism in today’s culture and to be aware of how this is at variance with God’s values before considering how their money should be spent. In the workplace, the emphasis is on the relationship with the whole person and the requirement for employees to be treated with respect, to have a fair wage, good working conditions and opportunities for personal development. At the same time the responsibility of the Christian employee to work hard and give of their best because their work will be pleasing to the Lord (Colossians 3) is a valuable reminder that doing economic justice entails mutual obligations between employee and employer (page 66) and also between borrower and lender (Psalm 37.21 page 25). The prompt settlement of invoices could have been included amongst these mutual responsibilities.

The second part of the book focuses on doing economic justice in wider society and the influence ‘that followers of Christ can have in and through the organizations and structures of which they are a part’ (page 89). In successive chapters, Hartropp looks at what this might mean in firms and corporations, banks and financial institutions and the place of government both nationally and globally.

The principles that were earlier espoused in the workplace are played out again on a larger scale when looking at firms and corporations. There is an admirably even-handed discussion about flexible working and zero hours contracts (page 108) and disquiet at, though not outright condemnation of, the levels of Chief Executive Officer pay in UK companies and the huge pay ratio between them and the average employee – 148:1 in 2014 among FTSE 100 CEOs (page 111).

When looking at banks and other financial institutions, the author includes a useful summary of the run-up to the 2007-8 financial crisis and helps us see excessive lending, borrowing and debt as a failure of the kind of relational justice that biblical economic justice requires. He seeks to adapt and apply the ancient biblical principle of Jubilee as a way of restoring relationships and offering hope for those trapped with burdensome debt and he is realistic about the way that a prevailing culture preys on fallen humanity’s susceptibility for greed, pride and folly. Wisely, there is no guide for a banking policy but rather the chapter aims to equip people with ways of thinking about some of the major challenges of finance (page 142).

This same caution is displayed when exploring the role of government in tackling the challenges of poverty and inequality both in the UK and globally. Returning to the four principles of biblical economic justice, Hartropp writes, ‘The call to do justice is to all people. Therefore it is not intrinsic to doing economic justice that the state must have a part to play’ (page 148, my emphasis). At the same time, he does not adopt a libertarian position but rather argues that, adhering to biblical principles, leaders should uphold relational economic justice, focus on the poor and act against economic oppression (page 163), an oppression which may or may not have been caused by market failure. In a brief section towards the end of the book, there is reference to Catholic Social Teaching and how its notion of subsidiarity can challenge the centralizing tendency of modern government (page 167).

The book introduces the reader to complex subjects and never over-reaches itself. It is balanced and has plenty of reminders not just of the obligations that fall on the economically advantaged, but also the responsibilities that remain with the disadvantaged. It is aware of prevailing culture and calls on Christians to counter aspects of it, not least by daring to believe that all work is for the glory of God.

Since, as the author says, ‘Much of what the Bible teaches about economic justice is common sense’ (page 19), it is not entirely clear who the book is for. Even if our common sense does sometimes desert us, the thoughtful reader – Christian or otherwise – will surely have worked out already many of the principles espoused in the first part of the book.

The second part of the book, looking at wider society or the ‘Public Square’, avoids any attempt to be a manual, but to help people in their thinking would have benefitted from a deeper consideration of economic forces at work. In particular, the potentially idolatrous nature of money, the way it is ‘made’ and the way it functions  makes it such an important part of today’s culture that it cannot be ignored. Likewise, the ever-expanding role of the state and the consequences of government debt are matters that need illumination.

The author can rightly point out that this was deliberately beyond the remit of the book and also that this review in 2024 is of a book first published in 2019. The prevailing culture which so shapes us has changed considerably since then, all of which would encourage an updated and expanded second edition of this introductory book which the author is well qualified to produce.

‘God’s Good Economy: Doing Economic Justice in Today’s World’ by Andrew Hartropp was published in 2019 by Inter Varsity Press (ISBN: 978-1-78359-764-2). 215pp.

Rev Canon Andrew Studdert-Kennedy is Team Rector of Uxbridge in the Diocese of London. Before ordination, he studied PPE at Oxford and during the 1980s worked in the City and as a Researcher for two MPs. He has retained his interest in such matters.

‘Nobody can be a great economist who is only an economist – and I am even tempted to add that the economist who is only an economist is likely to become a nuisance if not a positive danger.’

― Friedrich Hayek

Economists often lament the general public’s lack of economic understanding. Yet only a small fraction of economists sacrifice their own scarce resources to change this. Philip Booth and André Azevedo Alves are part of those few, and their efforts to apply economic insights engage the oldest institution in human history: the Catholic Church.

In Catholic Social Thought, the Market and Public Policy, the authors combine their knowledge of economics and Catholic social thought (CST) to contribute to today’s most challenging policy discussions. This ends up being a powerful marriage, as economics and CST contribute very different yet complementary insights. Where economics assumes that people act rationally toward an end, CST adds that this end is ultimately union with God, so some choices bring us closer to this goal than others. Where economics can identify the effects of specific policies, CST helps us to weigh these effects as good or bad. 

This edited collection consists of fourteen essays, six of which are authored or coauthored by Booth or Alves, with the other essays contributed by experts in related fields. The topics of these essays center upon policy debates related to Catholic social thought, such as globalization or the state’s role in education. The final chapter attests to the earnest practicality of the collection’s editors, as it provides a list and reference for the various sources of Catholic social thought so that the reader can continue to engage with these ideas himself.

For the remainder of this review, I will focus on the four principles of Catholic social thought – human dignity, solidarity, subsidiarity, and the common good – as they relate to the topics of these essays. Unsurprisingly, each of these principles makes an appearance in all of the essays as the authors apply them – in addition to a good dose of economic facts and literacy – to the often thorny policy questions at hand.

Sign up to receive new reviews directly in your email inbox via Substack

The first and foundational principle of CST is human dignity: ‘A just society can become a reality only when it is based on the respect of the transcendent dignity of the human person. The person represents the ultimate end of society, by which it is ordered to the person’ (Compendium of the Catholic Church, para. 132). This principle helps to explain the Church’s consistent condemnation of communism since it values the collective over the individual. It is also the reason the Church defends the right to private property and a just wage, as Alves, Chelo, and Gregorio explain in their chapter on the economic thought of Thomas Aquinas and the Late Scholastics. Importantly, human dignity helps explain the natural limits of the right to private property. Because the right to private property exists for the sake of human life, the right to life has superiority – in extremis, a parent is permitted to ‘steal’ food to feed his starving child. Fr. Schlag’s chapters deal with the principle of human dignity as well, as he argues that virtuous business practices embody respect for the dignity of all employees, clients, and customers. Moreover, he reminds readers that the dignity of the human person is closely linked to the dignity of work: ‘[the excellence in Jesus’s public ministry] must also have defined the level of effort Jesus put into His work as a carpenter. His professional vocation so much shaped Him that even His redeeming death was perpetrated with hammer, wood and nails, the tools of His profession’ (page 164).

The next principle of Catholic social thought is solidarity, which might also be understood as ‘friendship’ (Compendium, para. 103). This is the natural communion that arises between persons when they treat each other with dignity and the harmony of society that results. While the principle of solidarity is woven throughout each chapter, there are three topics in particular where it features more prominently: globalization (Booth), cronyism (Richards), and government debt (Booth, Numa, and Nakrosis). Booth points out in his chapter on globalization that the Catholic (meaning universal) Church has a special appreciation for globalization while also warning about its negative consequences should human dignity and solidarity not guide these relationships. In the words of John Paul II: ‘Globalization must not be a new version of colonialism’ (‘Address to the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences,’ 2001). When reflecting on cronyism, Richards illustrates how artificial constructions of solidarity, such as the Council for Inclusive Capitalism, may ultimately be misguided because of how special interests can shape well-intentioned policy. Finally, if there is to be any natural communion in society, we would expect it first to arise within the family. As Booth, Numa, and Nakrosis show in their chapter on government debt, current generations tend to indulge in governmental overspending, which places undue burdens on their children and future grandchildren, thus disrupting the solidarity between generations.

Subsidiarity is the third principle of Catholic social thought, in which the Church clearly teaches that the voluntary institutions of civil society should be respected and supported in their respective domains. In the words of the Compendium: ‘Subsidiarity, understood in the positive sense as economic, institutional or juridical assistance offered to lesser social entities, entails a corresponding series of negative implications that require the State to refrain from anything that would de facto restrict the existential space of the smaller essential cells of society. Their initiative, freedom and responsibility must not be supplanted’ (para. 186). The book’s chapters on the environment (Booth), healthcare (Sparkes), and education (Franchi) all apply this principle to important areas of contemporary policy. For example, Booth shows how the communal management of natural resources discussed in the work of Nobel Laureate Elinor Ostrom illustrates the power of subsidiarity in promoting the care of the environment. With respect to healthcare and education, the fierce controversies over what constitutes healthcare (e.g., abortion or euthanasia) or education (e.g., religious education) might be ameliorated to some extent if the role of civil society in providing these goods was supported rather than supplanted by the state.

Finally, I was struck by the fact that nearly every chapter cites the principle of the common good: ‘the sum total of social conditions which allow people, either as groups or as individuals, to reach their fulfilment more fully and more easily’ (Compendium, para. 164). The chapters on the right to migrate (Yuengert), taxation (Kennedy), and finance (Gregg) provide interesting applications of this principle. For example, Yuengert’s chapter wrestles with the question of how to pursue the common good when the needs of particular groups (e.g., native and migrant workers) seem to conflict. Crucially, the principle of the common good contains the national common good but extends beyond it. When considering taxation, Kennedy points out that the three purposes of taxation – revenue raising, behavior modification, and redistribution – have different merit when assessed from the perspective of the common good, the former having a clearer justification than the latter. The common good must also inform the Church’s approach to the financial sector, as Gregg emphasizes, since finance does provide a legitimate function in society and ‘by nature, the fundamental functions are the financial sector are, potentially, very “pro-poor”’ (page 227).

In conclusion, economics has never been nor will ever be enough for policy discussions. It does not proscribe ends—only a system of values can do that—and Catholic social thought offers one such account. I cannot recommend Catholic Social Thought, the Market and Public Policy highly enough for anyone interested in intelligent conversations about pressing public policy issues. My only regret is that it did not include chapter on what I would argue is the most important policy debate in the coming years: assisted reproductive technologies. Beyond its intellectual contributions, the book is a much-needed reminder of the religious insistence that civilizations exist to serve humans, not the other way around. In the words of C.S. Lewis: ‘Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors’ (The Weight of Glory, 1941).

‘Catholic Social Thought, the Market and Public Policy: Twenty-First-Century Challenges’ edited by Philip Booth and André Azevedo Alves, was published in 2024 by St Mary’s University Press (ISBN: 978-1-9167-8600-4). 302pp.

Clara Piano received her Ph.D. from George Mason University and will be joining the Economics Department of the University of Mississippi in Fall 2024. Her research and teaching focus on family economics and law and economics.

In Capitalism and Christianity, Luigino Bruni provides a sweeping overview of various strands of Christian thinking about economic and, to some extent, social matters over the past 2,000 years and seeks to assess their impact. The book is short, comprising only 109 pages, but it covers a significant amount of ground and needs to be read slowly and reflectively. It is not for the casual reader or someone who is only interested in down-to-earth everyday economic issues but those who are interested in the history of ideas and want to think about their impact today will find much in it that is worth pondering.

Bruni accurately describes his work as an essay and some of its strengths and weaknesses reflect its nature. In particular, Bruni does not seek carefully to support all of his assertions and many of his statements are highly contentious (e.g. is it really true that ‘Christianity was not the mass culture of the Middle Ages’, [page 90] and that ‘we had to wait until the second part of the second millennium for Christianity to become, at least a little, popular culture in the countryside’ [page 97]?). He also has a tendency to make statements that sound impressive without their meaning being clear (e.g. the statement that: ‘The medieval man was in general much poorer than we are, but he lived in a richer world, denser with life’ [page 36]) and he does not define his terms closely, the most serious omission being his failure to explain precisely what he means by ‘capitalism’. However, the other side of this point is that Bruni makes suggestive links between things that might otherwise be regarded as discrete and draws attention to long-term trends that might otherwise be missed.

He briefly considers the teaching of the New Testament but focuses primarily on that of Christian thinkers down the ages, starting with an interesting contrast between the economic thinking of Augustine and that of Pelagius before taking in that of well-known figures such as Dante, Luther, Calvin, Hobbes and Smith. There is plenty to take issue with in his analysis (e.g. his suggestion that, thanks to Hobbes, ‘European society…went from the community without individuals, to the individual without community’ [page 72], surely attributes far too much influence to Hobbes). However, much of what is said is thought provoking and a lot of it relates to matters that are only rarely covered in English language publications.

His discussion of medieval monasticism is a good example of this. He rightly points out the significance of the monasteries to the medieval economy and the long-term impact of the Benedictine motto ‘Ora et Labora’ (prayer and work), particularly as taken up and applied to everyday life in Lutheran thought. As often, Bruni is guilty of some exaggeration (e.g. the statement that ‘capitalism was not only generated by monasticism, but would not have been borne without it’, [page 14]) but his contention that, at least as originally conceived, the monastic emphasis on the value of work for a free person helped generate a wider acceptance of the value of work in society as a whole is well worth considering.

Bruni’s discussion of the late medieval Monti di Pieta is also interesting. Few Anglo-Saxon readers will know much (if anything) about them but they deserve to be taken into account in any consideration of historic models of the use of credit in the alleviation of poverty. Franciscan friars provided the impetus for their creation as not-for profit organisations which, nonetheless, were not charities and which sought to make credit available to the poor whilst still charging interest and seeking sustainability in their business model. Bruni clearly sees some lessons for today in this model, although he does not give detail of precisely what these lessons might be.

It is also good to see a discussion of the now largely forgotten contribution of Jansenists to the theological and economic debate. Jansenist theology was in many ways similar to Calvinism (albeit located within Catholicism) and it is interesting that it produced some recognisably similar economic thinking. This in some ways anticipated Adam Smith and classical liberal economics. For example, Pierre Nicole, writing a hundred years before Adam Smith, noted that those who served travellers did not act from charity but nonetheless provided the assistance that travellers required, whilst Pierre Boisguilbert, writing slightly later, commented that ‘All the trade of the land, both wholesale and retail…is governed by nothing but the interests of entrepreneurs who have never thought of doing someone a favour’ (cited by Bruni on page 60).

Bruni is Professor of Economics at the Università di Roma LUMSA, which states that it was ‘formed on Catholic principles’ and, in some places, his Catholic background shines through his writing. However his views on the impact of Catholicism on economics will not make comfortable reading for many of his Catholic colleagues. Although he is critical of the impact of the Reformation, he reserves his most strident criticism for the Counter-Reformation. He attacks both its theology and practices (suggesting that it was so concerned to react against Luther that it failed to deal with the aspects of Catholicism that were the most in need of true reform [page 44]) and sees its influence on the economy in almost wholly negative terms: ‘the Counter-Reformation blocked the process which had started in the middle-ages and which resulted in civil humanism, a capitalism that was both personalist and communitarian, which was able to fuse together individual freedom and common good’ (page 87) and ‘the Counter-Reformation set the moral evaluation of economic activities back a few centuries’ (page 88). Overall, he has very little positive to say about the contribution of Christian thought to appropriate economic structures over the past few hundred years.

It is less easy to be sure of what Bruni favours. He often quotes other authors without being clear of the extent to which he agrees with them. However, he is no other-worldly theorist. For example, he refers to ‘An entirely biblical and evangelical secularity…which still leaves all those who (like me) believe that there are few things more “spiritual” than double-entry method and a construction site, breathless’ (page 24). Furthermore, his most favourable tone is reserved for what he refers to as ‘civil economy’. He quotes at length from Fénelon’s ‘Les Abeilles’ (the precursor of Mandeville’s more famous Fable of the Bees) and he contrasts what he understands Adam Smith to be saying unfavourably with a different approach in which ‘the fundamentally economic principle…is instead that of “mutual assistance”, where each individual, in addition to his own interest, intentionally wishes for the interests and well-being of the other party as well’ (page 79).

Bruni writes openly from the perspective of Catholic Southern Europe and he clearly feels personal involvement in the matters about which he is writing. Capitalism and Christianity is not a mere academic essay: Bruni cares deeply about his subject and, as the book draws towards its conclusion, he begins from time to time to write in the first person.

Sadly, he is not able to offer much hope for himself or others. Referring to the people of the South (and, one suspects, primarily, Italy), the book concludes: ‘the capitalism of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the capitalism based on the factory and labour, could not then be seductive enough to buy our souls. But that of the twenty first century based all on consumption and finance, seduced us to a point that we did not need to buy our souls because we gave them for free’ (sic; page 108).

This is perhaps a surprising conclusion, especially from a writer who clearly regards Augustinian theology as much too pessimistic about human nature. It may be influenced by the slightly Romantic tendency that may be detected in some of what Bruni says. However, Bruni might fairly counter by saying that his essay is not intended to offer a way forward but merely to enable people to think about how we have arrived where we are and thus be able to pose questions that will facilitate the fashioning of the future.

Much of what Bruni says is contentious and one might take strong exception to his negative assessment of particularly early Protestant thinking, Adam Smith’s views and more recent Catholic social teaching. However, the issues that he raises deserve careful reflection and Capitalism and Christianity is a serious and worthwhile contribution to a vital debate.

‘Capitalism and Christianity: Origins, Spirit and Betrayal of the Market Economy’ by Luigino Bruni was published in 2024 by Routledge (ISBN: 978-1-03-252401-6). 109pp

Richard Godden is a Lawyer and has been a Partner with Linklaters for over 25 years during which time he has advised on a wide range of transactions and issues in various parts of the world. 

Richard’s experience includes his time as Secretary at the UK Takeover Panel and a secondment to Linklaters’ Hong Kong office. He also served as Global Head of Client Sectors, responsible for Linklaters’ industry sector groups, and was a member of the Global Executive Committee.