Rethinking Capitalism: My Journey Through Fisher’s Capitalist Realism

An honest reflection on Fisher’s critique of capitalism and how it reshaped the way I see change, charity, and the limits of imagination.

Photo courtesy of Vlad Bagacian

This is the start of my journey into challenging certain perceptions I’ve held about the world. I would say I’m currently an unrefined philosopher. This is my first post on Substack, and I wanted to bring everyone along on my journey of refinement. The first thing I’m doing is starting to read books again.

I felt that at this point in my life, I’ve been in a state of transition. My life has completely changed, and I felt this would be the best time to begin this process. I also wanted to share this journey with others who are exploring the world around them.

The first book I decided to read, to start my journey, is Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative? by Mark Fisher. Before starting this book, my initial understanding of capitalism was that it was merely a vehicle for doing things, attaching dollar signs to goods, services, and time. I didn’t think anything was wrong with it. I recall once proudly proclaiming, “I love Capitalism!” Now I see that this belief was woven into my life as seamlessly as breathing.

Fisher exposed me to just how deeply capitalism had infested my thoughts and dreams. He states:

“For most people under twenty in Europe and North America, the lack of alternatives to capitalism is no longer even an issue. Capitalism seamlessly occupies the horizons of the thinkable.”

I once believed my dreams were free from worldly limitations, but now I realize I was living with blinders on.

As I tried to imagine what we, as a society, could do about capitalism, I began to feel the boundaries of my own imagination—the shackles imposed by the current system. I considered some form of protest, but also recognized that people must still live under existing conditions. Fisher then interprets the philosopher Zizek’s message:

“So long as we believe that capitalism is bad, we are free to continue to participate in capitalist exchange.”

The foundation set by the early chapters of the book has deeply challenged me, and as I continue reading, I find myself struggling to make sense of it all. In trying to reconcile Fisher’s critique with my own experiences, I’ve thought about my involvement with nonprofits whose missions I truly respect. These organizations were founded by passionate individuals who recognized critical gaps in the world, and I still believe they do valuable, necessary work—even as I grapple with the broader implications raised by Fisher’s ideas.

Something had been nagging me for a while, though. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was until I read more of the book. I came to believe that we cannot fully solve these issues using the very system that created them. Whether we’re talking about the climate crisis, disenfranchised communities, or any other systemic problem, current solutions often rely on personal responsibility—volunteering, donating—rather than on changing the system itself.

The proposed solution suggests that everyday people should step up by volunteering or donating money. This realization brought to my attention that nagging feeling in the back of my brain. I want to help fix problems, but how can I do so without altering the system that caused them? It threatens to become a churning cycle that always keeps these “solutions” in business.

Fisher, in just three chapters, has challenged me in ways I haven’t experienced before. He has sparked a conversation about a topic I’ve never discussed in such depth. I will most likely finish the book and return with my full thoughts. I’m excited to collect these reflections in one place, and I hope others will join me. Together, perhaps we can figure out if we’re nearing a point where true alternatives can emerge—or if capitalist realism will continue to set the boundaries of our imagination.