The Carrot and the Dream: Why We Cling to a System That Lets Us Down

In a time where economic growth and personal freedom are elevated to the highest ideals, more and more people seem to be left behind. Why do we continue to defend a system that exhausts many and enriches a few? This essay explores that question—without simplification or cynicism, but with a desire to understand. Through philosophical reflection, historical patterns, and current concerns, it becomes a plea for something new: an economy with limits, and a society where humanity is once again the starting point.

1. The fairytale of the promise

Capitalism is often praised as the system that brought progress to the world. Innovation, prosperity, freedom of choice—these are real achievements stemming from a system that stimulates competition and rewards initiative. But the success story also hides a shadow: a reality in which those rewards increasingly favor those who own, rather than those who work.

In this sense, capitalism is not just an economic system—it’s also a narrative. The story that anyone can be successful. That wealth is within reach if you just work hard enough. It’s the carrot dangled in front of the horse: a promise that motivates, but is rarely fulfilled.

That carrot is not a lie—but it is an ideal increasingly removed from reality. Most people will never reach it—not because they don’t work hard, but because the system is designed so that the greatest returns come not from labor, but from ownership.

2. Why the worker votes for his oppressor

Instead of criticizing the system, many people fiercely defend it. Especially in countries like the United States, any form of social correction is quickly labeled “socialism” or an attack on individual freedom. But what’s really happening here is a deep identification with the carrot: the hope that they too might one day be at the top.

This is what philosophers like Gramsci called cultural hegemony: the ability of a dominant class to embed its values so deeply into the culture that people see them as natural. Even when those values go against their own interests. This creates a form of false consciousness: people defend the system not because it works—but because they want to believe it could work for them.

As a Dutch saying goes: “A dime will never become a quarter.”

3. The hierarchy of labor

In a healthy system, essential professions are valued. But in today’s capitalism, status and visibility often matter more than social contribution. Jobs in healthcare, education, or logistics—vital to the functioning of society—are systematically underpaid and undervalued. Meanwhile, careers as influencers or financial consultants are increasingly idealized.

When labor is no longer appreciated for its necessity or humanity, but for its profit potential or public appeal, cracks begin to show in the foundation of society. A world where everyone wants to be famous and no one wants to be a nurse becomes unbalanced.

4. The exodus of the essential

If this pattern continues, we will face growing shortages in vital sectors. Teachers are leaving education, healthcare workers are burning out, and young people are choosing jobs with prestige but little collective value. And all the while, inequality deepens.

The carrot keeps swinging, but the horse grows tired. Society begins to strain because the engine—the labor of ordinary people—is being drained, while the rewards flow upward.

5. The mask of moral superiority

The West often presents itself as the moral guardian of the global order: democracy, human rights, free markets. But that image becomes hard to sustain when the same countries profit from global exploitation. Multinationals outsource to low-wage nations, aid is tied to terms that benefit the West, and debt burdens press on generations in developing countries.

Is capitalism truly a system that helps everyone advance—or primarily a tool through which wealthy countries maintain dominance? What we see today is a new form of imperialism, not with weapons, but through contracts, property, and market dominance. And as long as the carrot is believed in, the system sustains itself.

6. Beyond dogma: the contours of ‘limited capitalism’

Perhaps it’s time not to abolish capitalism—but to place limits on it. A system that allows for competition and innovation, but within clear ethical boundaries. Call it limited capitalism: a free market that works, but does not rule.

In such a model:

• Profits on basic services (healthcare, education, energy) are capped to prevent greed.

• Extreme wealth is redistributed through global public projects serving the greater good.

• Ownership limits are imposed—not to punish, but to preserve the human dimension of economics.

This is not an easy proposal. It requires global cooperation. It is vulnerable to corruption. And it will face resistance from entrenched power. But it acknowledges a core truth:

Freedom without responsibility is not freedom.
Wealth without redistribution is not success.
And a system fueled by the exhaustion of many in exchange for the hope of a few is not sustainable—but destructive.

Final word

The dream of the carrot is powerful. But a society cannot build itself on a promise that only works as long as people don’t ask too many questions. What’s needed is a reevaluation of what we value, who we reward, and why we live together at all.

Capitalism has changed the world. Now it is up to us to decide whether it still serves us—or whether we are merely serving it. The carrot is not enough. It’s time to choose the human over the system.