Spiritual Ethics for an Imbalanced World

Part 1: Ahimsa & Capitalism

This month, the teachers in my yoga studio have been discussing ahimsa, one of the five yamas of yoga. The yamas generally represent social and ethical restraints, while the niyamas represent self-disciplines. For yogis, these are principles that guide how we relate to other living things, including the Earth.

Yoga has been translated in many ways, but one of the most basic translations is union of the self with the greater whole. This union alludes to both the connection of body, mind and spirit, and recognizing that we as individuals are fundamentally interconnected with the Earth and all other living things. On a personal level, yoga can help us become more compassionate individuals and to free ourselves from “fluctuations of the mind.” When extended beyond ourselves, the yoga yamas—or any set of moral principles—can offer a profound critique of the systems we live under.

Whether your guiding principles are the yoga sutras, the Bible or the principles of being a good neighbor, I invite you to reflect on them:

What ethics guide your life?
Are they universal?
How are these ethics selectively applied—and who decides?

The Yamas and Degrowth

The yamas dictated by Patanjali in the yoga sutras—ahimsa (non-violence), satya (truthfulness), asteya (non-stealing), brahmacharya (non-excess), and aparigraha (non-attachment)—echo the moral codes of Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and other faiths. These principles are also a theoretical foundation for Western legal codes (although debatable in practice) and central to ecological and social justice movements around the world.

At first glance, yoga and degrowth may seem worlds apart: one is a spiritual practice, and the other is a political-economic movement. But both share a foundational concern with care, awareness, and the relational nature of life. They both ask us to consider: What is enough? And what happens when we believe we are separate from others and the Earth?

What is Degrowth?

As I talked about in my last article, degrowth is a movement related to ecological economics that is critical of modern capitalism's unitary focus on growth. The degrowth movement calls for us to be truthful about the consequences of capitalism and what it values (profit, growth, material gain), arguing for a new set of priorities (human and planetary well-being).

Degrowth challenges the idea that more is always better, and instead invites us to ask: growth of what, for whom, at what cost?

At its core, degrowth calls for a deliberate downscaling of material and energy use, paired with a deep restructuring of economies to prioritize care, well-being, and ecological balance over profit. Growth, they argue, is a disease that has led us to the current state of things: we have almost crossed 7 of 9 planetary boundaries, the world is entangled in never-ending violent conflict, and a few elite continue to amass uncapped wealth and power while the majority suffer. Degrowth critiques our current economic and political systems for inconsistent applications of foundational ethics (e.g., “freedom”, “democracy”, “equality”, “truth”).

Thus, when extended beyond the personal, principles like the yamas reveal an interesting critique of capitalism. They can help us understand how our systems selectively apply and uphold ethics and make it more difficult for us as individuals to live in alignment with our personal morals.

Non-Violence and Capitalism

Ahimsa – Non-violence, non-harming, to not cause pain

What constitutes violence? How is it built into our systems? When do we stand against it? When do we contribute, consciously or unconsciously?

The principle of ahimsa is about minimizing harm in thought, word, and action toward others, the planet, and yourself. It is the cornerstone of yogic ethics. As my teacher said, this is the yama that all other yamas support.

While ahimsa is rooted in yogic philosophy, the ethic of non-violence transcends spiritual traditions. Jesus’s teachings emphasized treating others as we want to be treated (with compassion), loving one's enemies, and caring for the most vulnerable. In Buddhism, the first precept is to refrain from killing or causing harm, while in Islam, the Qur'an advocates mercy, compassion, and justice. These shared values across faiths remind us that the principle of non-harm is not niche or even spiritual, but part of a larger moral imagination that tells us what is right and wrong.

What is non-violence?

In the yoga sutras, the idea of non-violence extends is interpreted beyond the most obvious don’t hurt others. Yoga teachers often speak about self-violence and ways that we can embody ahimsa by not pushing beyond our capacity on or off the mat, allowing oneself to take rest.

Ahimsa is also talked about as conscious observation of hurtful thoughts or actions. This could look like not engaging in, and actively standing against, direct or violence towards ourselves or other beings. The concept of non-violence extends beyond spiritual belief systems: it is also at the core of many ecological movements, which argue that we must stop treating nature as something lesser that we can exploit without consequence. While it may be obvious that we as individuals should not kill or destroy (we as individuals will be penalized for this), corporations and governments are not beholden to the same standards. Capitalism treats nature as a raw material to extract, plowing ahead towards never-ending growth even as global ecosystems continue to collapse. While it is easier for us to understand direct violence, we may not think about violence towards the Earth in the same way.

Structural Violence and Capitalism

We are primed to think of direct violence—don’t do something that hurts someone else—but encouraged to overlook the structural violence embedded within our societies—don’t do something that prevents others them from meeting their basic needs or rights.

Structural violence is buoyed by individualism and legalized under capitalism.

The problem is that violence is not always obvious: in fact, the worst effects are intentionally hidden out of sight and out of mind. Complex supply chains shield us from consciously considering the ethical and environmental abuses of industrial production systems.

Take Amazon, which has become omnipresent in many people’s lives: it is so convenient! The problem is, this corporation is a manifestation of the structural violence embedded within the capitalist system: it functions at the expense of the exploitation of workers and the environment. Beyond this, the corporation is invested in other more direct forms of violence with ties to the military–industrial complex.

If we consider non-violence in relation to our economic system, it becomes clear that modern capitalism is not aligned with ahimsa.

Capitalism has always relied on structural violence towards workers and future generations to maintain itself as well as clearer forms of direct violence toward vulnerable populations and the environment. The United States economy is all but dependent on the military–industrial complex—the nation itself needs violence to maintain GDP (hence the never-ending wars). This violence manifests two-fold: a large portion of the budget goes towards creating arms which are used for killing and destruction, and that funding critically does not go towards social services that would allow us all to meet basic needs (decreasing structural violence).

This selective upholding of moral principles is growing more extreme with the new wave of authoritarianism (although it has always been this way, think about abuses of the Church, colonialism, etc.). It is obviously reflected in the impunity of the State of Israel to commit war crimes and ethnic cleansing, the the emboldenment of ICE under the Trump Administration to detain and deport citizens, and the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, where many elites have been accused of sexual violence towards minors and are managing to get away with no prosecution. In fact, the same people benefitting from this violence are working to change the laws so they will face no consequences.

The frameworks that were meant to uphold universal principles of non-violence (e.g., the UN, the Constitution) have been unveiled as nothing more than an illusion over the past years: they have no power to stop state-sponsored violence or challenge powerful elites engaged in widespread destruction.

We see this pattern repeating everywhere we look.

Whether it’s industrial agriculture, fast fashion, fossil fuel extraction, or war itself, harm is normalized under capitalism if (and because) it generates profit.

The negative costs of growth—from biodiversity loss to ecosystem pollution, deforestation, and cultural destruction—are never factored into the equation. Corporations and elites can engage in widespread destruction because they are the same actors who create and uphold regulations that are supposed to protect us against violence, emboldened by behind-the-door deals that allow for virtual impunity.

Many of us do not support these loopholes for elites. We believe war is bad. We don’t think people should be rounded off the streets and deported. Even MAGA Christians are having to take pause to recognize that something is not in line with their belief systems. But it seems like nothing is changing.

I find it hard to imagine waking up in the morning and not seeing notifications about bombing or destruction or how some app I use is actually connected to this violence (bye Spotify). Even for those of us who want to live ethically, it is almost impossible to be non-violent under capitalism, to ourselves and others. At the end of the day, applying conscious awareness can help us mature as individuals, but it sometimes feels frivolous in the context of the insanity unfolding around us.

As long as profit trumps life, violence will remain embedded in our lives.

Engaging with Ahimsa

One way of engaging with ahimsa is to start by bringing conscious awareness towards violence in our own lives: We can work on observing negative and fear-based thought patterns and how they make us (re)act, recognizing that violence comes in many forms (physical, mental, emotional). We can refuse to look away from and speak up about systemic violence that is enacted against vulnerable peoples around the world (talk to someone today about the ongoing genocide). We can choose to learn more about the indirect violence consequences of our actions and face that discomfort (see Boycott, Divest, and Sanctions movement).

Finally, we can explore other movements linked to the principles of non-violence in theory and practice. One such movement is Degrowth, which argues for a transformation through policies that center ecological regeneration, well-being, and justice. The movement calls for policies to tax environmental destruction, housing and healthcare as universal rights, investments in education and public services, and dismantling of the military–industrial complex.

Degrowth still faces criticism for being utopian, and its critics will argue that capitalism is not all bad—it has brought us so many great things (but at the expense of what and who, for the benefit of what and who?). Challenging the patterns of harm embedded in capitalism isn’t about moral purity but ethical clarity. You can live in a capitalist system and still actively challenge it: making the conscious choice to not support unethical businesses (when possible) and being courageous enough to speak, or act, against the system.

Transitioning away from capitalism would require some sort of revolution, and it is hard to see how this would play out without violent conflict, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t begin envisioning this transition.

Our imaginaries have been so colonized to believe that capitalism is the only way, but it is high time that we let ourselves imagine another system is possible.

In this way, the first step still remains that we must change our own minds, noticing where we’ve been lulled into complicity.

The next step is extending these values beyond ourselves with courage, refusing to look away from the violence around us, and choosing, again and again, to realign our actions with the values we claim to hold.

The third step is daring to imagine (and advocate for) a different way of living for all of us.

Reflecting on the concept of non-violence in our own lives is a good place to start.