Donni Wang | Democracy Without Separation: Why the Ancient Greeks Never Believed in “The Economy”

Note：This essay is based on a presentation delivered at the conference Degrowth: Bridging Green and Just in Central and Eastern Europe (Kraków, Poland, June 2026).Many critics argue that modern economics can impede urgently needed social and political change by concealing questions of justice, equality, and social cohesion within the language of scale, optimization, and equilibrium. A fundamental reason for this is that the economy is formally treated as a distinct, value-neutral, expert-led sphere. This essay therefore turns to ancient Athens, the earliest democracy in the West (albeit a deeply flawed one), as a concrete illustration of a society in which economic life was not allowed to remain independent.In Athens, financial decisions were understood as part of broader deliberations about collective flourishing rather than a conduit for competing self-interests. A close reading of evidence on public finance, employment, and wealth accumulation suggests that material activities were aligned with the democratic goals of mutual aid, communal wellbeing, and public honor in a consistent manner, resulting in non-separation between politics and economics.Through juxtaposition with Athens, the special jurisdiction claimed for economic life in the modern era must contend not only with many Indigenous and non-Western traditions, but also with the democratic heritage of the West itself. Revisiting this important historical precedent forces adherents of modern economics to confront their own intellectual anomaly.Part 1Part 2On the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s posting of his Ninety-Five Theses on a church door in Germany, a carefully staged reenactment took place in England. This time, a group of students and professors posted a long list of grievances at the entrances of the London School of Economics, calling for a fundamental overhaul of the economic discipline.The symbolism was unmistakable. The protesters saw a direct relationship between mainstream economic theory on one the hand and widespread social inequality and ecological crisis on the other. Yet the field continues to enjoy special authority, enabled by an a priori assumption that economics operates according to objective rules and criteria. Yet for such a self-proclaimed science, its lack of basic predictive power was laid bare by the 2008 financial crisis, when some of the highly trained economists “failed” to anticipate the catastrophe. While afterwards they excused themselves by citing glitches in their mathematical models, the result was the suffering of millions and the bailout of irresponsible banks—results that were both politically devastating and ethically troubling.Yet this separation of economics from society and politics represents a profound departure from the self-identified traditions of the West. This rift becomes especially apparent when modern economic thinking is placed alongside the ideas and practices of Athenian democracy. In Athens, wealth, power, and status were understood to carry meaning only within a strong polity, thus constituting a model of non-separation. It turns out that even though economic activity was robust in ancient Greece, much of it was integrated into political life and household management rather than unfolding in a distinct and autonomous sphere. This integration of economics and politics will hereafter be referred to as non-separation, while modern economic theory constitutes a model of separation.However, a caveat about ancient Greece is due. In most Greek city-states, citizenship was restricted to adult male citizens, excluding women, enslaved people, and resident foreigners (metics) and depriving them of basic rights and dignity that we take for granted today. However, modern democracies are also not free from letdowns. In the United States, for example, women did not gain the right to vote until 1920, and racial segregation under Jim Crow persisted well into the 1960s and beyond. Some scholars even argue American democracy is under severe oligarchic influence today. Therefore, neither period can claim automatic moral superiority; both must be examined critically within their historical contexts.With these qualifications, a fundamental contrast emerges: the Greek system submerges economic matters within the political framework of the polis, in which human flourishing is defined first and foremost through public life and civic participation. By contrast, modern economic thought posits self-interested, discrete individuals who loves to compete for utility and output in the market place. The divergent outlooks of non-separation and separation are vividly reflected in areas of public finance, work and career, and wealth accumulation, producing social and political outcomes that are remarkably different.Public spending in Athens was devoted in large part to the construction of monumental buildings. The Parthenon, a magnificent architectural wonder, exemplifies how this was achieved in the model of non-separation. Conceived in the Assembly (ekklēsia), the central institution where citizens directly deliberated and governed, the Parthenon a material statement on civic pride, collective identity, and public glory. As the historian Thucydides remarks, the monument ensured that “future ages will wonder at us, as the present age wonders at us now.” The Parthenon’s public character is further illustrated by an episode recorded by Plutarch, in which Pericles, the leading statesman at Athens, faced criticism for the extravagance of the building program. In response, Pericles reportedly declared that if the people objected, he would finance the project himself—though his name would be inscribed upon it. This proposal was immediately rejected. The Assembly instead voted to fund the works from public revenues, preferring that the honor and prestige belong to the citizenry rather than to a benefactor. Public spending, in this sense, was not guided by calculations of cost and benefit, return on investment, or stimulus to consumption in the modern economic sense, but rather democratic pride. While a significant boost of revenue in some periods derived from imperial tributes, insofar as the purpose and vision of the Parthenon are concerned, the nonseparation model stands in sharp contrast to the workings of modern public finance.Today, governments typically spend heavily on infrastructure—airports, highways, rail networks, and pipelines—on the basis of either measurable or inflated material benefits. Under the logic of separation, key public spaces such as universities, airports, stadiums, and cultural institutions adopt corporate brands and donor names in recognition of their financial contributions. This practice serves as a visible reminder of the reliance on private partnerships and patronage. Whereas the Athenians claimed collective honor, modern societies celebrate individuals who excel in private enterprise. Equally noteworthy were the high levels of decentralization and public accountability that characterized construction projects in Athens. As a rule, oversight was not entrusted to a bureaucratic body; instead, the Assembly appointed commissioners (epistatai) on a project-by-project basis, thereby eliminating the need of professional managerial staff. Moreover, despite the scale of these undertakings, construction work was divided into smaller portions. Independent craftsmen and workshops either competed for or were assigned specific tasks based on cost, reputation, and civic trust. The terms of these contracts were publicly displayed through inscriptions, enabling citizens to scrutinize the process and take legal action if necessary. Because jobs were allocated directly to identifiable individuals and groups rather than delegated through layers of management, accountability remained relatively high. By contrast, contemporary infrastructure projects are often entrusted to large general contractors operating through an extensive network of global supplies and vendors. The complexity of these arrangements can render it difficult for ordinary citizens to trace progress, monitor expenditures, or prosecute waste and fraud. As a result, the design, financing, and implementation of major public works can be opaque and the decisions made by specialized administrators and professional bureaucrats can evade public control.In addition to spending lavishly on public works, the Athenian also surprised contemporary observers by how much they allocated to religious fesitvals, dramatic performances, and other civic celebrations. In some periods, these expenditures even rivaled military spending. It is thus evident that communal events were not treated as luxuries to be enjoyed only after securing economic prosperity and military strength; rather, they were regarded as essential components of civic life. In fact, the cultivation of democratic identity, civic honor, and political engagement was one of the best uses of revenue in the model of non-separation.In comparison, modern liberal economies typically devote only a small fraction of public resources to the arts, civic events, and cultural programs, because these expenditures are hard to justify in direct economic terms. Yet some might point out that modern state budgets are equally generous, because they allocate vast sums to social welfare programs and thus prioritize collective wellbeing in a more practical way. However, many of the most extensive welfare systems emerged historically as remedies to social crisis and political conflict. The welfare reforms introduced under Otto von Bismarck in nineteenth-century Germany and the expansion of federal programs during the Great Depression in the United States, for example, emerged in response to the profound upheavals generated by industrial capitalism. In addition, markets can advance independently without extensive welfare, as demonstrated by countries like China and Russia. From this perspective, modern social spending has been either epiphenomenal or expendable, underscoring that fact that public resources still either serve the needs of the market or placate its disruptions in the aftermath.In Athens, the ethos of democratic politics dominated not only public spending but also labor and work—a domain typically considered personal rather than political in modern economies. In the mode of separation, work is primarily understood as an individual matter of choosing utility and an exercise of personal freedom. This important choice is not required to answer the questions of larger purpose and enduring impact. Athenian society, by contrast, openly ranked occupations according to their explicit effect on the community. Rather than worshipping utility—a function of monetary return and individual satisfaction—the Athenians constantly asked whether one’s pursuits enhanced democratic virtues or the common good.In the democratic world of peer recognition, public service, though voluntary in nature, was essential. A citizen seeking honor and prestige would devote substantial time and energy to public affairs, such as deliberating in the Assembly, serving on juries, holding office, participating in local administration, and defending the city against enemies. These activities were self-financed, though poorer citizens who faced the loss of wages received modest compensation. The high status accorded to public service reflected the belief that activities contributing to the well-being of the community constitute the worthiest use of one’s abilities and time. The playwright Aeschylus, or at least the ancient perception of him, provides a revealing example. According to the ancient biographical tradition, his epitaph allegedly commemorated not a single one of his celebrated tragedies but only his participation in the Battle of Marathon, where a small force of Greek citizen-soldiers defeated the invading army led by the Persian king. Whether this reflects the historical Aeschylus or the ancient understanding of his character is a separate matter, but the message is clear: public service, rather than personal achievement, was the defining measure of a life’s accomplishment.Only after fulfilling civic responsibilities would a citizen turn to livelihood, among which landholding occupied a privileged position. The idealized life of a self-sufficient yeoman farmer was closely associated with the qualities of contentment, perseverance, and dedication, virtues that strengthened democratic citizenship, although in reality many elites employed slaves rather than working the land themselves. Nevertheless, some of today’s most prestigious and highly compensated professions in business, finance, and entrepreneurship would be viewed ambivalently, for commercial pursuits encouraged a mindset made for fickle gains and fast transactions, one unsuited to uphold ethical principles and moral integrity. Yet under shareholder capitalism from the 1970s, a particularly, long-term social considerations gave away to short-term profiteering. Milton Friedman, a major architect of Neoliberalism, claimed that social responsibilities imperiled American businesses, for they should have one goal, that is, “to increase profit” (The New York Times Magazine, September 13, 1970). In this model, cutting back on training and wages, striking deals with unscrupulous regimes, lobbying for tax loopholes, and shifting jobs overseas all serve to increase shareholder value. Fast forward to the present, and the same separationist mentality drives the strategy of private equity firms, which bankrupt service providers in key sectors for profit, as though the decline of society would not have consequence for themselves. These community-destroying business practices, which would be incompatible in the non-separation model, are justified as rational and even productive by economic theories built on separation.Even some of the most esteemed liberal occupations—such as medicine, science, law, and banking, which place a high value on skill and education—would have been regarded in Athens as insufficient for a proper citizen. However accomplished, such professionals can still work without full autonomy and control. A scientist may excel at research, only to discover that their findings are being used by a corporation in ways they never intended. A lawyer may draft impeccable contracts, yet be bound by a client’s instructions to exploit tax loopholes, regardless of personal judgment. For Athenians, technical expertise alone was therefore not enough—especially in the form of wage labor or hired employment. Working under the direction of others was regarded as akin to servitude, regardless of pay or personal satisfaction, because citizens should not enter into positions in which they cannot fully set the agenda or control the outcomes of their work. Freedom from domination and the ability to take social responsibility, which were central to political participation, also applied to economic pursuits. A society composed of highly competent specialists who work only in their confined areas as they are paid to do so would fail to generate the proper collective deliberation over the goals their expertise serves.Despite valuing career skills less than political virtues, the level of individual achievement in ancient Greece was by no means inferior. The towering achievements in literature, philosophy, and science suggest that the prioritization of civic life did not hinder individual development. If anything, the democratic culture of Athens was conducive to intellectual and creative pursuits, fostering extraordinary public spaces and platforms while cultivating a citizenry accustomed to grappling with complex societal issues rather than burdened by drudgery or preoccupied with personal gratification.When it comes to individual wealth and spending, the contrast is equally stark. In countries like the US and the UK, becoming rich is a sign of successful entrepreneurship and hard work, qualities that automatically command respect and admiration. From this perspective, taxation is often seen as a necessary evil at best: a transfer from the most productive members to fund societal functions that the market is unable to fulfill. Charity, meanwhile, becomes an act of generosity bestowed upon the “losers” in economic competition. Philanthropic funds are channeled through foundations, private think tanks, and non-profit organizations according to the priorities of their donors, bypassing public review and, at times, as public-relations gigs to advance private interest.In Athens, however, the expectations placed upon the rich were much more pronounced. Those who possess wealth were expected to openly, consistently, and directly strengthen and support civic institutions and public events. This obligation was so central to the Athenian political culture that it acquired its own name: the liturgy (leitourgia). In countless court speeches, defendants cited their liturgical contributions as evidence of their commitment to the city, hoping to gain favor with citizen juries. The Athenian legal system allowed litigants’ character and civic reputation to influence the outcome of trials, turning public service into a valuable form of social capital. In this system of liturgy, recipients were not passive beneficiaries and the wealthy were not merciful patrons; rather, both were stakeholders within an exchange network through which material goods, reputation, and civic standing circulated. Wealth remained private, but its use and responsibility were placed under public watch, thus blurring the distinction in a manner of non-separation. Perhaps most strikingly, this civic culture was sufficiently strong that the Athenian state could rely on voluntary giving rather than mandatory taxation for its needs. Because elite citizens possessed a deep sense of belonging, public generosity was both a civic duty and, more broadly, an investment in the well-being of the community on which they themselves depended.As we have seen, in public finance, career pursuits, and wealth accumulation, Athenian democracy perfected the non-separation model that did not allow economics to establish a separate kingdom apart from democratic principles. None of this is to suggest that in real life Athens was always free from commercial ambition, status competition, or private interest. Admittedly, the city sometimes failed to live up to its own ideals, but such imperfection does not obscure the fact that, conceptually and normatively, economic activity was a means to civic and political ends rather than an end in itself. At the heart of non-separation and separation lie competing views of human nature. Are people motivated more by material incentives, or honor, justice, and civic recognition? Do they naturally seek to compete with one another, or to cooperate and mutual assist? Should they devote themselves primarily to advancing their careers and private interests, or co-governing the political community as equals? One may prefer one vision over the other, but it is certainly not a choice between what is scientific and objective on the one hand, and what is political, biased, and non-universal on the other.Ironically, despite placing such emphasis on the individual, modern economic systems of separation have not produced widespread empowerment. More than two centuries after the Industrial Revolution, millions are still being forced into precarious competition for housing, education, healthcare, and economic security—goods that can be easily made abundant and broadly available through democratic provisioning. The professional middle class may enjoy comfortable living standards and meaningful careers and yet are powerless against the erosion of democratic institutions and public life. Even the wealthy need to bend themselves constantly to shifting market trends and political winds while navigating the tensions and resentments generated by staggering inequality. It is therefore difficult to maintain that the separation model provides for the full realization of human potential.By contrast, the Athenian non-separation model helped to create the conditions of collective wellbeing under which individualism could blossom, in so far as judged by the artistic and intellectual personalities of ancient Greece. In other words, public commitment and personal excellence should not be treated as opposing goals but are mutually reinforcing ones, just as one might expect from the model of non-separation.Today, economic logic not only claims its own territory but also attempts to colonize social and political spheres. In the best-case scenario, European social democracies rely on government institutions to contain the excesses of separation though there are signs of decreasing efficacy in recent years; in the worst case, market forces increasingly overwhelm and erode democracy itself in the US. The ancient Greek model offers a different possibility altogether: one in which economic life is not allowed to run wild but is fully integrated into the semiosis between individual flourishing and collective well-being. Without romanticizing Athens, we can still appreciate its central insight of non-separation, which resonates with many Indigenous and non-Western traditions. In this light, the modern separation model is the one that appears historically contingent, and its place in the twenty-first century warrants serious reconsideration. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit inbetweenreview.substack.com/subscribe