Why running your business doesn't make you a capitalist

How do you build a business inside a system you want to dismantle?

You set out to build something meaningful—something that nurtures your community, aligns with your values, and helps you meet your needs. But the moment your business grows, or any real money comes in, that familiar fear creeps in: What if no matter how intentionally I operate, I’m still feeding the very system I oppose?

Being a business owner, entrepreneur—or even a solopreneur—in late-stage capitalism comes with constant cognitive dissonance. If you aren’t clear on the difference between contributing to exploitative structures and participating in generative commerce, it’s easy to feel trapped in guilt or shame—convinced that every dollar earned makes you complicit.

Every sale feels like a small betrayal. Every profit feels tainted. If you're running a business under capitalism but don’t want to be a capitalist, the guilt can feel unbearable.

What if building a business doesn’t have to feel like a betrayal or like you’re “part of the problem”? What if there’s a difference between commerce that sustains communities and capitalism that exploits them—and the key lies in understanding that distinction?

That fear of being complicit is real—and it’s valid. But it’s also a byproduct of capitalism’s myths, especially the myth of progress. A lot of the guilt and shame anti-capitalist business owners experience about their “participation in capitalism” stem from misconceptions about what actually defines capitalism, what sets it apart from commerce, and how “progress” is defined under capitalism.

One of the 13 characteristics of white supremacy culture, as outlined by Tema Okun, is “progress is better & more.” The capitalist myth of progress mirrors this exactly. It tells us that growth, expansion, and profit are the markers of success—no matter the cost. This myth is perhaps the most recognizable and prolific of capitalism’s stories, which makes it a fitting match for a planetary archetype like Jupiter.

In ancient mythology, Jupiter wasn’t just a god of abundance—he was a force that shaped civilizations, deciding right from wrong and organizing societies. This ancient function of Jupiter gives us a very useful insight into the capitalist obsession with expansion: it’s not just about accumulating more, but about creating systems that define and enforce what counts as progress. One such example of this obsession is the capitalist tales of innovation.

Under capitalism, innovation isn’t simply about creating something useful or meaningful—it’s about doing it faster, better, and more profitably than anyone else. The myth of progress pushes the idea that if you’re not constantly innovating, constantly outpacing your competitors or yourself, you’re falling behind. This endless drive for innovation for its own sake is sold to us as the path to success, but like most unchecked expansion, it often leads to exploitation—of labor, resources, and even creativity itself. The pressure to constantly produce something “new” reinforces the capitalist belief that standing still, or focusing on sustainability over growth—or, god forbid, even consciously choosing not to grow—is inherently wrong. It turns progress into a race (hence terms like “the rat race”), rather than a collective effort to improve the quality or longevity of life.

When we buy into the myth of progress as a moral imperative—the belief that we must grow or be left behind—we become trapped in a mindset that equates our worth and success with constant expansion. This capitalist narrative drives us to believe that standing still is failure and that rest, sustainability, or focusing on quality over quantity are dangerous paths that threaten our survival, because of course there’s never enough to go around so why would you ever stop making your pile as big as possible? The fear of failure under capitalism is such a strong drive that it keeps most people from ever considering slowing down—not when it means a slow, impoverished death.

The kind of “growth” which innovation hungers after is inherently extractive. It pressures individuals and businesses to prioritize profit over people, to push harder and faster even when resources are stretched thin, and to sacrifice long-term sustainability for short-term gains. When we internalize this, we begin to feel that anything less than growth is failure. It creates a moral hierarchy where more is always better, leaving little room for reflection on whether that growth is beneficial or even necessary. Again, “progress is better and more” is a core characteristic of white supremacy culture, and part of this is because this way of thinking is antithetical to indigenous modes of being that held the earth and its resources in a higher regard, viewing the planet and its inhabitants as teachers for humans.

Alice Sparkly Kat, in Postcolonial Astrology, describes Jupiter’s power as a judicial one—a “future-making power.” Whoever holds the authority to define right and wrong decides which behaviors, ideas, and ways of relating are acceptable. In doing so, they dictate not only what’s possible in the present but also what carries us into the future.

This is the essence of the myth of progress: it’s not just about movement forward, but about whose version of the future gets to take shape—and at whose expense.

Here’s where things get tricky for business owners trying to do meaningful work within this capitalist hellscape. The myth of progress convinces us that business, growth, and money are inherently tied to exploitation and extractive practices. To participate in business is simply to become a part of capitalism, both contributing to and benefiting from this system. It tells us that to participate in commerce is to participate in capitalism—but that’s simply not true, and this conflation didn’t happen by error, either. It happened by design, because capitalism co-opts systems and mythologies that support its aims and reflect humanity back at itself. This makes capitalism seem like something innate, or ultimate, like it perfectly mirrors human nature and is inextricable from The Way The World Works.

Like Jupiter in ancient mythology, you stand in a position of power in your business, deciding what’s right and wrong, what’s acceptable and what’s not. Jupiter’s role wasn’t just about ruling over expansion—it was about creating the systems that define what progress looks like, what behaviors are valued, and what kind of future gets built. Similarly, capitalism has co-opted this power, forcing its own version of progress onto society—one that glorifies endless growth, profit at any cost, and the exploitation of people and resources.

But here’s where the difference lies—and where your power as a business owner or solo entrepreneur becomes critical. Commerce—true, generative commerce—isn’t inherently exploitative; it’s simply the exchange of goods, services, and resources. This is something that has existed across cultures, long before capitalism took hold. Commerce can build communities, create meaningful connections, and meet people’s needs without draining them dry, whereas capitalism has a long track record of destroying communities, severing our connection to the planet’s natural rhythms, and sacrificing the needs of the many for the desires of the few. What separates capitalism from commerce is the intent behind the exchange.

In contrast, commerce—when practiced with intention and care—can become a force for mutual benefit. This is something capitalism could never achieve. It’s a way to sustain communities, to ensure that value circulates rather than being hoarded or funneled toward a select few. It’s rooted in relationships, not profit margins. This is where your role as a business owner or solo operator comes into play. You get to define what kind of exchange takes place in your business. You get to decide if you’re playing by capitalism’s rules or if you’re rewriting them—creating a future that isn’t about exploitation but about shared prosperity.

Jupiter helps us see how systems get built and how power shapes society, but he also shows us something else: that power is always up for grabs and no king’s reign is ever eternal. Just as Jupiter’s decisions defined entire civilizations, your decisions—how you run your business, how you engage with commerce—have the power to shape the future. You can choose to reject the capitalist myth that commerce must be exploitative, in the name of progress. You can choose to build something different.

Thank you for reading.

Want to learn more about anti-capitalism through a capitalist lens? Check out my course.

I’m starting a podcast!

The Cosmic Co-Op is coming soon, and I need your help. Go here to leave your 100% anonymous submission for me to respond to with future guests.

Thank you, and I can’t wait to bring you more anti-capitalist astrology and magic.