Why Capitalism Needs Us to Remain Religious?
The persistence of the sacred: from homo religiosus to global capitalism
For the historian of religions Mircea Eliade, the human being cannot be fully understood as homo sapiens —the thinking one— but rather as homo religiosus: one who lives in search of meaning, guided by the sacred. This dimension is not limited to organized religions or faith in gods, but rather crosses human history as an essential need: that of creating symbols, building foundational narratives, participating in rites that interrupt banality and connect everyday life with something that transcends it.
The homo religiosus inhabits a world divided between the profane —chaos, repetition, meaninglessness— and the sacred —that which provides order, orientation, and value—. It is guided not only by reason, but by mythical memory, ritual repetition, and identification with exemplary models. It recognizes spaces charged with symbolic power, consecrated times, acts that are not done just because, but because they refer to a profound origin. For Eliade, this structure remains even in modern societies that proclaim themselves secular: the sacred does not disappear, it simply changes form.
Therefore, it is not enough to define ourselves as homo sapiens. Thinking is not enough if that thought is not supported by a horizon of meaning. Even when the dominant discourse tells us that we no longer believe, that we are rational and modern, we continue to organize our lives around symbols, rituals, and totalizing narratives. And if we do not do it through traditional religions, we will do it —with equal fervor— through political ideologies, economic systems, or consumer cultures. The religious, as a deep structure of experience, remains.
Western Capitalism: The Religion of the Self
In Western capitalist societies, religion has not died: it has been absorbed and recycled by the market. Where there were once gods, today there are brands. Where there were temples, now there are shopping malls. Old liturgies have been replaced by ritualized consumption events (Black Friday, sales), and old commandments by promises of self-realization. The structures described by Eliade —myth, symbol, ritual, sacred time— are still there, but transfigured.
The dominant myth is that of the successful entrepreneur, the individual who, through effort, talent, and perseverance, “makes themselves.” A narrative of personal redemption backed by a system that preaches individual freedom as the supreme value, although in practice that freedom is deeply conditioned by class, gender, race, or place of birth. The symbol is no longer the cross or the mandala: now it is the brand (Tesla, Nike, Apple). Success becomes a sign of salvation, of having reached that modern paradise where anything is possible and everything is allowed.
The current archetype is the charismatic entrepreneur, the visionary CEO, the lifestyle “influencer.” These figures act as role models, often with almost messianic traits. Rituals are also present: consume, produce, show off, share. Daily life is organized as a chain of symbolic acts: from the morning coffee to guided meditation on an app, from body worship at the gym to the race for likes on social media. “Time is money,” and the present is lived as a transition to a future that is always promised but never quite arrives. Social media, with its algorithms that reward image and exposure, become new altars where the self is sacrificed to receive approval, visibility, and belonging.
And what remains of social well-being? Of personal fulfillment? On a theoretical level, liberal capitalism promises prosperity for all. Every individual should have the possibility to go as far as they desire, and the state should ensure a minimum of conditions for that to happen. But the reality is less luminous: what is often presented as freedom is merely self-exploitation disguised as autonomy. The contemporary subject must constantly reinvent themselves, sell themselves, improve themselves, without a safety net. Cyclical economic crises, increasing inequality, ecological collapse, and deteriorating mental health reveal that this “religion of the self” can be as demanding —and as cruel— as any theocratic system.
Well-being is reduced to what the market allows. If you can pay, you access it. If not, the system makes you feel it's your fault, that you didn't try hard enough. The promised paradise is always one step further. And that is enough to keep the cult going.
China: The Myth of Return to the Center of the World
In contrast to this religion of individual desire that fragments everything, contemporary Chinese capitalism presents a completely different logic: a religion of order, anchored in a collective narrative. At its heart is a powerful myth: China's return to its rightful place as the axis of the world. This idea, deeply rooted in national consciousness, feeds on a historical wound: the so-called century of humiliation.
Between the mid-19th century and the first half of the 20th century, China was plundered, invaded, and subjugated by foreign powers. The British Empire, France, Germany, Russia, Japan, and later the United States, imposed unequal wars, abusive treaties, and territorial cessions, such as the case of Hong Kong. The Opium Wars, forcibly drafted peace treaties, foreign spheres of influence, and the brutal Japanese invasion during World War II, dismembered the political and symbolic body of the country. That series of humiliations was not forgotten: it was transformed into a foundational myth of national rebirth.
The Chinese Communist Party, far from disavowing this wound, incorporated it as the symbolic basis of its legitimacy. Its discourse does not revolve around individual freedom, but around the restoration of lost greatness. The market is not at the service of the individual, but at the service of the state and the civilizing project. Economic prosperity is not a promise of personal fulfillment, but a tool to regain the central place that, according to the official narrative, China should never have lost. Individual fulfillment only makes sense insofar as it contributes to the collective destiny: that China returns to its place as the center of the world.