Giuseppe Ruggeri’s “Catholicism and Capitalism” arrives at a critical moment in human history, when environmental degradation, wealth inequality, and social fragmentation demand urgent moral reckoning. This scholarly yet accessible work traces the development of Catholic social teaching from the Mosaic Covenant through Pope Francis’s ecological encyclical, revealing a consistent thread of principles that challenge our modern economic assumptions. Rather than offering another academic treatise on religious economics, Ruggeri delivers something more vital—a call to personal transformation grounded in ancient wisdom that speaks directly to contemporary crises.
What makes this work particularly compelling is its bold central thesis: capitalism, despite attempts to reconcile it with Christian faith, remains fundamentally incompatible with Catholic teaching. This is not a superficial critique but a carefully constructed argument built upon centuries of theological reflection, from Old Testament prophets through medieval saints to modern papal encyclicals. Ruggeri demonstrates how Catholic social teaching consistently prioritizes human dignity over efficiency, community welfare over individual accumulation, and environmental stewardship over exploitation.
The Architecture of Moral Economics
The book’s twelve-chapter structure functions as both historical narrative and philosophical argument. Ruggeri begins where Catholic social teaching begins—with the creation account and Mosaic Covenant. Here, foundational principles emerge that reverberate through subsequent centuries:
- The moral responsibility to care for the natural world
- The universal destination of goods, where property serves communal needs
- The condemnation of wealth accumulation and the structures that perpetuate it
- The inherent dignity of workers and their right to living wages
- The obligation to practice justice through concrete action, not mere sentiment
These principles, established millennia ago, feel remarkably relevant to contemporary debates about climate change, income inequality, and workers’ rights. Ruggeri’s genius lies in showing how these teachings evolve without losing their essential character, adapting to changing economic conditions while maintaining their moral core.
From Scripture to Synthesis
The journey through biblical roots illuminates how both Testaments establish an economic vision centered on love—love for God, neighbor, and justice itself. The New Testament chapters reveal Jesus as firmly rooted in this tradition, challenging both wealth accumulation and social indifference. Ruggeri skillfully demonstrates that the “social gospel” is not peripheral to Christian faith but its very essence.
The sections on Church Fathers and medieval thinkers provide historical depth that contemporary discussions often lack. Saint Augustine emerges not merely as a theologian of grace but as a social critic who understood that Rome’s decline stemmed from moral corruption and the absence of justice. Saint Francis of Assisi appears as more than a nature-loving mystic—he becomes a radical witness to voluntary poverty and solidarity with the marginalized. And Saint Thomas Aquinas’s sophisticated understanding of justice, property, and the common good offers philosophical rigor to what might otherwise remain pious platitudes.
The Papal Encyclicals: Evolution and Contestation
Ruggeri’s treatment of papal social encyclicals forms the heart of the book’s contemporary relevance. Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum emerges as a response to industrialization’s brutal effects on workers, defending both private property rights and workers’ dignity against exploitative capitalism. Pope Pius XI’s Quadragesimo Anno, written amid economic depression, offers the most forceful papal critique of unbridled capitalism, condemning the moral decay that follows when profit becomes the sole measure of human activity.
The chapters on Pope John Paul II reveal fascinating tensions. While Laborem Exercens places human work at the center of economic life, affirming labor’s subjective dimension and workers’ rights, Centesimus Annus presents more problematic terrain. Ruggeri doesn’t shy from critique, noting how this encyclical’s embrace of market mechanisms and emphasis on cultural issues over economic justice provided intellectual cover for those seeking to baptize capitalism in Christian garb. The analysis of how “prosperity gospel” thinking infiltrated Catholic discourse, transforming Jesus “from a poor Galilean into a tycoon,” is particularly incisive.
Pope Francis’s Laudato Si’ receives treatment that recognizes its revolutionary character. Ruggeri shows how Francis reconnects Catholic teaching to its biblical and Franciscan roots, presenting ecological and social crises as inseparable manifestations of the same spiritual disorder. The unity of creation—natural and human ecology intertwined—demands not merely policy adjustments but radical personal conversion toward simplicity, humility, and justice.
The Practical Turn: From Theory to Action
What distinguishes Catholicism and Capitalism from purely theoretical works is its final chapter on policy implementation. Ruggeri doesn’t leave readers with lofty ideals but translates Catholic social principles into concrete economic programs addressing distributive justice, living wages, universal access to goods, and subsidiarity. This practicality demonstrates that Catholic social teaching offers not escape from worldly concerns but engagement with them through a morally coherent framework.
The policy proposals flow logically from established principles: if human dignity is paramount, then living wages become non-negotiable; if the earth’s resources serve all humanity, then property rights carry social obligations; if work is central to human flourishing, then employment policies must prioritize human development over mere productivity. These aren’t utopian fantasies but workable alternatives grounded in centuries of reflection on human nature and social organization.
Writing for Transformation, Not Just Information
Ruggeri’s prose remains remarkably accessible despite the complexity of his subject matter. He writes as someone who believes ideas have consequences, that intellectual clarity can inspire moral action. The book avoids academic jargon without sacrificing precision, making sophisticated theological and economic arguments comprehensible to general readers. Historical context enriches each chapter, situating writers within their times while demonstrating the timeless relevance of their insights.
The author’s own voice emerges most powerfully when diagnosing contemporary crises. His critique of how capitalism degrades human beings from subjects to objects—mere inputs in production processes and consumers of output—cuts to the existential core of modern alienation. When capitalism replaces a living God with an amoral market and substitutes the worship of efficiency for concern with human flourishing, something essential about human nature gets violated.
For Readers Seeking More
Those drawn to Ruggeri’s integration of faith and economics in Catholicism and Capitalism might also explore:
- Thomas Piketty’s “Capital in the Twenty-First Century” for empirical documentation of wealth concentration
- Wendell Berry’s “The Art of the Commonplace” for agrarian perspectives on economy and community
- Dorothy Day’s “The Long Loneliness” for practical application of Catholic social teaching
- Pope Francis’s “Evangelii Gaudium” for pastoral engagement with economic justice
- Alasdair MacIntyre’s “After Virtue” for philosophical grounding of virtue ethics in modern life
The Ultimate Question: Personal and Collective Conversion
“Catholicism and Capitalism” ultimately poses a question each reader must answer personally: Will we continue systems that prioritize accumulation over distribution, efficiency over dignity, individual gain over common good? Or will we embrace the demanding path of conversion—personal and structural—that Catholic social teaching illuminates?
Ruggeri insists that institutional reforms, while necessary, remain insufficient without individual transformation. The book stresses personal responsibility, arguing that change begins with each person’s commitment to virtuous living. This isn’t individualism repackaged but recognition that authentic community requires authentic persons, that just institutions need just individuals to sustain them.
The book’s dedication “In Memory of Pope Francis” (presumably anticipating his eventual passing) signals both gratitude for Francis’s prophetic witness and anxiety about whether his vision will endure. Ruggeri’s work serves as insurance against amnesia, preserving in accessible form a tradition too precious to forget and too challenging to ignore comfortably.
A Testament to Enduring Wisdom
Catholicism and Capitalism succeeds magnificently at its stated purposes: it educates readers about Catholic social teaching’s historical development, inspires through its moral vision of human dignity and community, and provides practical guidance for building more just societies. Ruggeri demonstrates that Catholic social teaching isn’t antiquated doctrine but living wisdom addressing humanity’s deepest needs—for meaning, community, justice, and right relationship with creation.
“Catholicism and Capitalism” deserves reading not only by Catholics seeking deeper understanding of their tradition’s social dimensions but by anyone concerned with economic justice, environmental sustainability, and human flourishing. In our age of fracture—ecological, social, political—Ruggeri offers the integrating vision of unity in creation, dignity in labor, and justice in community that might yet guide us toward more humane ways of organizing economic life.
The book’s final wisdom resonates with biblical simplicity: it took only one righteous person to save humanity from the flood, only ten to spare Sodom. Personal faithfulness matters. Each reader who embraces this teaching’s call to justice, simplicity, and solidarity becomes part of building God’s kingdom on earth—not through heroic gestures but through daily fidelity to love in action. That is both the book’s humblest claim and its most revolutionary promise.
