We Embraced Psychopathy as Culture—And We Call It Capitalism

The Zionist vilification of Ms. Rachel exposes that love and hate cannot coexist in our economic system. One will inevitably devour the other.

“Our society only leaves people to decide whether they join the abuser or stay abused. What kind of a fucked-up world is this?” — Alon Mizrahi

Watching Alon Mizrahi’s latest video on Ms. Rachel, I was struck by how powerfully it resonated with what I had written three weeks earlier about the connection between pedophilia and capitalism. His insights crystallized something I’d been grappling with: we have built a civilization that mistakes cruelty for strength, exploitation for innovation, and indifference for sophistication. At its core, capitalism demands the systematic suppression of human empathy. It requires us to view other people not as fellow travelers in this brief existence, but as obstacles, competitors, or resources to be extracted from and discarded.

The recent vilification of Ms. Rachel—a children’s educator who dared to show compassion for Palestinian children—exposes the fundamental hostility our economic order has toward love itself. Her sin was not political activism or radical rhetoric. Her crime was demonstrating that care, rather than conquest, might be the organizing principle of human society.

Zionism Hates Love

Ms. Rachel succeeds within capitalism’s framework while refusing to adopt its emotional bankruptcy. She builds an audience, generates revenue, creates content—but she does so from a place of genuine love for children. All children. Even Palestinian children being incinerated in Gaza. This represents an existential threat to a system predicated on selective empathy and manufactured hate.

In a recent conversation with Dimitri Lascaris, we explored how Zionism fundamentally depends on perpetual hatred—how it requires us to live in a constant state of animosity toward one another to maintain its grip on power. As analyst Alon Mizrahi astutely observes, Ms. Rachel embodies an ancient archetype of femininity that represents everything Zionist ideology seeks to destroy. But I would argue we must go even deeper: it is not merely femininity that threatens these systems, but love itself. Love—in its purest, most unconditional form—is the existential enemy of Zionism and all Western imperial supremacist cultures.

Watch our conversation here.

These ideologies cannot survive in an environment where human beings recognize their fundamental interconnectedness, where empathy flows freely across manufactured boundaries of race, religion, and nationality. Ms. Rachel’s simple act of loving Palestinian children as she loves all children strikes at the very heart of a worldview that requires us to fragment our compassion, to love selectively, to reserve our deepest care only for those deemed worthy by systems of power.

Capitalism has always required enemies. It needs us to fear and despise those we might otherwise love, because solidarity among the exploited threatens profit margins. The same imperial logic that justifies bombing Venezuelan fishermen for the crime of existing in proximity to oil reserves also demands we dehumanize Palestinians so we can feel comfortable funding their extermination. These are not separate phenomena—they are manifestations of a single organizing principle.

Capitalism Loves Abuse

The system trains us to worship those who demonstrate the greatest capacity for inflicting suffering. Jeffrey Epstein was not an anomaly but an exemplar—the perfect capitalist success story. He accumulated vast wealth by commodifying human pain, turning vulnerability into profit. The powerful didn’t associate with him despite his predatory nature; they flocked to him because of it. He represented their deepest aspiration: the ability to consume others without consequence. It is no surprise that pedophiles often turn out to be the most successful capitalists. Epstein’s island was full of them.

This same dynamic plays out across every level of society. We celebrate CEOs who slash healthcare benefits, calling it “fiscal responsibility.” We applaud politicians who separate families at borders, labeling it “tough on immigration.” We worship entrepreneurs who profit from private prisons, praising their “business acumen.” Our entertainment reflects these same values: we love movie heroes who brutalize anyone who disagrees with them, we consume pornography where women are violated and degraded, and in video games we wield swords and guns to inflict maximum carnage. The common thread is always the same: success measured by the willingness to cause pain.

The mythology of white supremacy serves the same function. It provides a moral framework for viewing certain humans as inherently less valuable, making their exploitation feel justified rather than criminal. Racism isn’t an unfortunate byproduct of capitalism—it’s essential infrastructure. Without it, working people might recognize their shared interests across ethnic lines and demand a more equitable distribution of resources.

Patriarchy operates through identical mechanics. It teaches us that masculine virtue flows from the ability to dominate, control, and subjugate others—particularly women and children. The “successful man” in capitalist culture is defined by his capacity for emotional detachment, his willingness to prioritize accumulation over connection, his skill at treating relationships as transactions.

In capitalism, a man never cries—he rages, and we worship him for it.

Capitalism Hates Empathy

Zionism represents perhaps the purest distillation of this pathology. It demands unconditional support for a project that requires the ongoing displacement and murder of indigenous people. Any expression of concern for Palestinian suffering—even sympathy for Palestinian children—is treated as heresy. The ideology cannot tolerate competing claims to humanity because it depends on a rigid hierarchy of human worth.

This is why Ms. Rachel’s simple act of acknowledging Palestinian children as deserving of life and dignity triggered such vicious backlash. She reminded people that love recognizes no borders, no ethnic distinctions, no religious boundaries. Children crying from hunger in Gaza are identical to children crying from hunger anywhere else. Their pain matters just as much. Their dreams are just as precious.

But capitalism cannot survive such radical equality of concern. It requires us to care selectively, to reserve our empathy for those deemed worthy by market forces and imperial interests. It needs us to view suffering through the lens of nationality, race, and class rather than shared humanity.

The economic system we inhabit is fundamentally incompatible with love because love is fundamentally incompatible with exploitation. You cannot simultaneously care for someone and profit from their misery. You cannot love your neighbor while supporting policies that impoverish their children. You cannot claim to value human dignity while defending systems designed to crush the human spirit.

As Bell Hooks recognized throughout her writings, love is not merely an emotion but the essential weapon against what she called our “imperialist white-supremacist capitalist patriarchy.”

This is not merely about policy preferences or political orientation. This cuts deeper than electoral politics or legislative agendas. We are witnessing a spiritual war between two incompatible visions of human existence: one based on mutual care and collective flourishing, the other based on competitive consumption and individual accumulation.

Ms. Rachel represents the former—the possibility that we might organize society around nurturing rather than exploitation, around abundance rather than scarcity, around love rather than fear. She demonstrates that another way of being is possible, that success need not require the abandonment of basic human decency. Just imagine for a second how happy our species could be.

Capitalism Fears Happiness

This terrifies those who profit from the current arrangement. If people begin to believe that love is stronger than market forces, that cooperation is more powerful than competition, that solidarity can overcome systems designed to divide us—then the entire edifice of organized cruelty we call modern capitalism begins to crumble.

The choice before us is stark: we can continue worshiping at the altar of accumulation, celebrating those who demonstrate the greatest capacity for causing pain, building a culture that mistakes psychopathy for achievement. Or we can remember that we were made for love, that our deepest satisfactions come from connection rather than conquest, that the measure of a life well-lived is not how much we extracted from others but how much beauty we added to the world.

Ms. Rachel’s radical act was choosing love in a system designed to reward hate. Her punishment reveals everything we need to know about which force currently governs our society—and which force we must nurture if we hope to survive.

- Karim