Conscious Capitalism or Spiritual Washing? Vaiṣṇava Philanthro-Capitalism and the Case of Ajay Piramal

Posted on 24th September, 2025 (GMT 04:49 hrs)

ABSTRACT

This article critically examines the intersection of religion, capitalism, and corporate power in contemporary India, using Ajay Piramal and the DHFL scandal as a case study to interrogate the concept of “conscious capitalism” and its spiritualized variants. It argues that ostensibly ethical and Vaishnava-aligned philanthropy—what may be termed “Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism”—often functions as a moral façade for systemic exploitation, environmental negligence, financial expropriation, and political cronyism. The piece highlights Piramal’s alleged expropriation of DHFL investors’ life savings, corporate entanglements, and use of Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPPs) to intimidate dissent, juxtaposed against his projected image as a Paramavaishnava disciple of ISKCON’s Radhanath Swami. Drawing on environmental, socio-political, and cinematic examples, it demonstrates how spiritual rhetoric is deployed to legitimize wealth accumulation, mask structural inequities, and neutralize democratic critique, while philanthropic gestures—though socially visible—fail to address labour hierarchies, ecological harm, or systemic injustice. Situating these phenomena within broader debates on crony capitalism, moral laundering, and ethical branding, the article contends that spiritualized corporate practice risks transforming devotional ethics into instruments of power, leaving social, economic, and environmental vulnerability intact, and calls for a critical reorientation toward structural accountability, redistribution, and the protection of marginalized voices.

“Conscious” Capitalism? Really So?

In an era marked by widening wealth gaps, environmental degradation, and corporate scandals, the concept of “conscious capitalism” has emerged as a proposed antidote to the excesses of traditional profit-driven business models. Coined and popularized by figures like Whole Foods co-founder John Mackey and academic Raj Sisodia, conscious capitalism posits that businesses can—and should—integrate ethical considerations, stakeholder well-being, and societal impact into their core operations. It emphasizes a higher purpose beyond mere shareholder returns, advocating for a harmonious blend of profit, people, and planet (Chatterjee & Maira, 2019).

Yet, the very phrase—conscious capitalism—is oxymoronic. Capitalism, by definition, thrives on accumulation, competition, and the exploitation of labour and resources (Weber, 2002; Harvey, 2005). To prefix it with “conscious” risks rebranding a predatory system as enlightened, a form of moral laundering where compassion and ethics are advertised but systemic inequities remain intact. Critics argue that conscious capitalism becomes a softer language for the same underlying structures of extraction and inequality, soothing public anxieties without dismantling power asymmetries (McGoey, 2015; Brunsson, 2002).

Satyajit Ray’s Sakha Prasakha (1981) offers a cinematic meditation on the figure of the ostensibly “good” capitalist, a man whose wealth and enterprise are portrayed as morally upright, socially responsible, and insulated from corruption. The film juxtaposes the values of integrity, familial duty, and social conscience against the temptations of greed and opportunism, framing the patriarch as a steward of resources who invests not merely for personal accumulation but for the welfare of dependents and society at large. Yet the film deliberately omits structural critique—of systemic inequalities, labor exploitation, or political entanglements—mirroring the discourse of “conscious capitalism” itself and presenting a sanitized image of the benevolent industrialist.

This tension becomes visible in the figure of Ajay Piramal, Indian industrialist and billionaire philanthropist, and his alignment with the Vaishnava tradition as embodied by Radhanath Swami. This intersection of business, spirituality, and philanthropy—what may be termed “Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism”—offers a revealing case of how religion can serve as a legitimizing façade for capitalist power (Sharma, 2020; Fuller & Narasimhan, 2014).

In the following video, Mr. Piramal and Sri Radhanath Swami are seen talking about this very paradoxical, oxymoronic concept:

Ajay Piramal: The Crony Capitalist with Alleged Controversies

Ajay Piramal chairs the Piramal Group, a sprawling conglomerate spanning pharmaceuticals, financial services, real estate, and glass packaging across more than 30 countries. His personal wealth, estimated in the billions, is the product of decades of aggressive acquisitions and market expansion. Piramal frames his public philosophy around Gandhi’s trusteeship and references to ancient Indian scriptures, presenting the capitalist not as an owner but as a steward of wealth for society’s benefit (Gandhi, 1940/1997; Mukherjee, 2019). Yet this framing reads more as rhetorical veneer than structural reality: his repeated claim that “capital is the oxygen for doing good” signals a conditional morality, where philanthropy is only possible after wealth has been amassed, leaving intact a system that prioritizes accumulation over distributive justice.

Piramal’s legacy is not without controversy. His companies have faced allegations of environmental negligence, particularly pharmaceutical pollution in Digwal, Telangana, where effluents devastated local ecosystems (Kohli, 2012). Communities have accused Piramal-associated firms of leaving toxic legacies while projecting a socially responsible image (Ganguly & Banerjee, 2022).

Beyond environmental concerns, critics highlight a pattern of alleged crony collusions, questionable financial maneuvers, and political entanglements:

• DHFL acquisition in 2021 under India’s ill-conceived IBC 2016
• Insider trading investigations (SEBI, 2016)
• Shriram Finance stake sale (2024)
• Flashnet scandal
• Electoral bond and PM CARES donations to the BJP
• Exploitative real estate practices and loans to Omkar Developers
• Consumer deception via Piramal Realty and so on.

In addition, Mr. Piramal has reportedly used Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPPs) to target voices of democratic dissent, including DHFL scam victims, leveraging the legal system to intimidate and harass critics. Collectively, these controversies illustrate a recurrent nexus of wealth, influence, and regulatory evasion, raising questions about whether Piramal’s philanthropic posturing masks structural exploitation (Ganguly, 2021; Narayanan, 2021).

While his philanthropic foundation funds education, healthcare, and clean water initiatives, these gestures risk functioning as reputational shields—offsetting or distracting from deeper structural harms. Herein lies the paradox: philanthropy becomes both the salve and the smokescreen for capitalism’s wounds (McGoey, 2015; Brunsson, 2002).

Vaiṣṇava Philanthro-Capitalism: Organized “Spirituality” Meets Profiteering Commerce

Vaishnavism emphasizes compassion, stewardship, and service. Figures like Radhanath Swami articulate this ethos as “Earn with integrity and spend with compassion,” framing wealth as a sacred trust rather than private possession (Bhaktivedanta, 1972). His projects—massive food distribution networks, eco-villages, hospitals, and schools—translate this ethic into tangible social impact.

However, Radhanath Swami’s legacy is not unproblematic. In the 1980s, he was linked to Kirtanananda Swami, who was convicted of racketeering and mail fraud. Although cleared of wrongdoing, Swami’s association raised questions about judgment and affiliations (ISKCON News, 2007). Additional allegations within ISKCON—such as arranged marriages of underage girls to older devotees—further complicate his ethical standing (ISKCON Watch, 2016).

Piramal, himself a devotee of the Bhagavad Gita, aligns his business practices with this worldview. Collaborations between his group and Vaishnava initiatives—meal programs, sustainable community projects—are presented as evidence that billionaire wealth and monkish compassion can converge.

Yet the ethical and spiritual precepts of the Gita are often recast into managerial frameworks, where karma-yoga, detachment, and selfless action are translated into productivity metrics, leadership strategies, and corporate KPIs. The call for dharmic duty becomes a template for efficiency, risk management, and brand-building; humility and stewardship are reframed as corporate governance tools or public relations strategies. In this process, the Gita’s radical critique of attachment and greed is domesticated, its moral and spiritual radicalism subordinated to profit-driven imperatives. Vaishnava philosophy, when filtered through managerial rationality, risks becoming a disciplinary technology for capital, aligning ethical rhetoric with the imperatives of accumulation rather than challenging them.

At its best, Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism humanizes markets, reinfuses business with ethical responsibility, and challenges Milton Friedman’s dictum that “the business of business is business” (Friedman, 1970; Sharma, 2020).

Yet this synthesis is structurally fraught. The Gita’s call for detached action and Vaishnava emphasis on humility are at odds with the logic of wealth accumulation and empire-building. By appropriating devotional ethics into corporate practice, the radical critique of material attachment risks dilution, reduced to a spiritual veneer over profit motives (Fuller & Narasimhan, 2014; Bhaktivedanta, 1972).

The Critique: Structural Blindness

1. An Oxymoron at Heart: Capitalism privileges accumulation, competition, and growth, often at ecological and human expense. Making it “conscious” resembles imagining “benevolent exploitation” (Weber, 2002; Harvey, 2005).
2. Philanthropy as Power Consolidation: Philanthro-capitalism allows elites to shape policy and preserve influence under the guise of altruism. Piramal’s foundation uplifts communities while simultaneously entrenching his role as gatekeeper of resources (McGoey, 2015; Jain, 2020).
3. Spiritual Washing: Just as corporations greenwash, billionaires adopt religious frameworks as moral cover. Piramal’s invocation of Vaishnavism risks turning profound spiritual teachings into corporate branding, legitimizing inequities under the guise of dharma (Sharma, 2020; Fuller & Narasimhan, 2014).
4. Avoidance of Structural Reform: Conscious capitalism focuses on ethical entrepreneurs but leaves systemic issues—wealth concentration, corporate impunity, ecological overreach—largely unaddressed (Narayanan, 2021; Singh, 2022).
5. Surplus Labour Exploitation: From a Marxist perspective, capital accumulation inherently relies on the extraction of surplus labour, whereby workers’ contributions produce more value than the socially necessary labour (Marx, 1867/1990). The DHFL case exemplifies how such surplus extraction extends beyond direct labor—financialized instruments, investor savings, and pensioners’ funds become sites of economic expropriation, demonstrating that capitalist morality cannot mitigate the structural imperative to extract surplus. This mode of accumulation can be read as a form of primitive sin, wherein the moral transgression of exploiting others is embedded in the economic system itself. It is also a contemporary echo of primitive accumulation, in which wealth is historically concentrated through dispossession, coercion, and legal or financial manipulation. Notably, the discourse of “conscious capitalism” seeks to foreclose this structural critique, presenting ethical veneers over inherently extractive practices, thereby naturalizing surplus expropriation while obscuring its historical and moral dimensions.
   • Conscience Sold for a Rupee! The Cannibalism of “Conscious” Capitalism: In the stark theatre of contemporary capitalism as it manifests in India, the DHFL saga crystallizes a grim paradox: what is hailed as “conscious capitalism” often masks the deliberate surrender of conscience. Ajay Piramal’s reported acquisition of DHFL assets—valued at ₹45,000 crore—for a nominal ₹1 epitomizes this moral bankruptcy. Small depositors, pensioners, and investors—whose savings were the product of decades of labour and prudence—were systematically stripped of their rightful dues, rendering human toil a consumable commodity. Here, the rhetoric of “consciousness” becomes grotesquely ironic: while corporate discourse markets ethical awareness and social responsibility, the practice enacts a cannibalistic expropriation, devouring the very stakeholders whose welfare it ostensibly protects. In effect, consciousness becomes performative while conscience is sold, a chilling inversion where moral rhetoric conceals structural predation. Where is the “conscious” capitalism here, in Mr. Piramal’s alleged act of takeover?
   • This act is not merely an isolated transgression; it is emblematic of the capitalist mode of production itself, whose structural imperative is the extraction of surplus labour—a primitive cardinal sin encoded into the system. In this sense, the sale is less a legal transaction than a symbolic gesture of conscience sold off at the altar of accumulation, a stark testament to how capitalist morality, even when clothed in ethics or spirituality, remains incapable of resisting its foundational imperative to exploit, expropriate, and appropriate.
   • This moral inversion scenario echoes the dystopian vision presented in Jean-Luc Godard’s Alphaville (1965), where the totalitarian computer Alpha 60 eradicates concepts like “love” and “conscience” to enforce a society governed solely by logic and efficiency. When the character Natacha says “le conscience”, Lemmy Caution corrects her: “la conscience”. In Alphaville, the suppression of human emotion and ethical consideration mirrors the commodification of human labour in capitalist systems. Just as Alpha 60’s regime strips individuals of their humanity, the DHFL acquisition strips depositors of their financial security and dignity. The film’s protagonist, Lemmy Caution, represents the intrusion of human conscience into a mechanized world, challenging the dehumanizing forces of Alphaville. Similarly, the DHFL case calls for a reassertion of ethical responsibility in the face of corporate machinations that prioritize profit over people. Both narratives compel us to question: when does the pursuit of capital become a betrayal of human values?
6. Corporate Schizophrenia: Using Deleuze & Guattari, Piramal exemplifies a “schizo-capitalist” subject, deterritorializing ethics and spirituality, then reterritorializing them as symbolic capital (Deleuze & Guattari, 1983; Mukherjee, 2019).
7. Structural Violence: DHFL acquisition demonstrates systemic harm without overt physical violence. Retail depositors and pensioners bore the brunt of financial malfeasance, revealing the collision between Vaishnava rhetoric and corporate practice (Galtung, 1969; Ganguly & Banerjee, 2022).

Beyond Spiritual Capitalism: Toward Structural Consciousness

Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism highlights ethics, care, and stewardship but risks being a palliative ideology if confined to individual virtue. True systemic change demands redistributive policies, labor protections, environmental regulation, and alternative ownership models like cooperatives (Harvey, 2005; Singh, 2022). Spiritual wisdom, if genuine, should democratize resources, dissolve hierarchies, and confront inequality (Bhaktivedanta, 1972; Gandhi, 1940/1997).

Political, Environmental, and Social Blind Spots

Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism operates not only as ethical branding but also as a mechanism of political and economic influence. Piramal’s donations, alliances, and corporate maneuverings interact with state policies and regulatory frameworks, raising questions about crony capitalism and elite capture. Philanthropic interventions—food distribution, schools, and eco-villages—while socially visible, do not redress the systemic ecological harms caused by industrial operations, such as pharmaceutical effluent pollution in Digwal, Telangana. Likewise, these initiatives leave labour hierarchies, economic inequities and wealth concentration unchallenged, reinforcing the social authority of billionaire trustees while structural inequality persists.

Viewed globally, Piramal’s model mirrors broader trends in “philanthro-capitalism,” where elite actors—like Gates, Rockefeller, or Tata—leverage ethical or spiritual rhetoric to sanctify capital accumulation. In practice, Vaishnava philanthro-capitalism risks transforming spiritual virtue into a disciplinary technology for corporate legitimacy, masking systemic injustice while celebrating individual moral performance. Symbolic ethics replace structural reform, leaving markets, labor relations, and environmental stewardship largely subordinated to profit and influence.

Through the CSR-initiative called Piramal Foundation, Ajay Piramal has partnered with the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation on initiatives like the Tribal Health Collaborative, aiming to improve health and nutrition among India’s tribal populations. While commendable in intent, this collaboration underscores a dissonance between the professed values of conscious capitalism and the exploitative practices that underpin it. The juxtaposition of philanthropic efforts with corporate actions that strip vulnerable communities of their financial security reveals a troubling paradox: the same entities that advocate ethical responsibility may simultaneously perpetuate systems that erode it. From a Marxist perspective, such philanthropy can be read as the last cry of the dying capitalist, a palliative gesture designed to assuage social tensions and moral anxiety, while leaving intact the status quo structural imperatives of accumulation, surplus extraction, and systemic exploitation (Marx & Engels, 1848/1990).

Conclusion: Conscious Capitalism’s Double Bind

Ajay Piramal’s rise—from textile mills to a sprawling, billion-dollar conglomerate adorned with Vaishnava philanthropy—illustrates that business can be portrayed as a vehicle for social good. Yet a closer examination exposes a troubling dissonance: crony alliances, opaque financial maneuvers, environmental degradation, and consumer exploitation persist alongside his philanthropic gestures. In effect, conscious capitalism here functions less as ethical practice and more as moral camouflage, borrowing religious rhetoric to legitimize wealth accumulation while leaving structural exploitation untouched (Deleuze & Guattari, 1983; McGoey, 2015).

Far from challenging systemic inequities, such spiritualized philanthropy risks sanctifying the very hierarchies and market logics that generate social harm. The ethical veneer of trusteeship and devotional alignment obscures the extraction, regulatory evasion, and political entanglements that underpin contemporary corporate power.

In the spirit of the Bhagavad Gita, truly conscientious action would demand redistribution, structural reform, and accountability—not symbolic gestures that moralize accumulation. Wealth, privilege, and enterprise must be interrogated, not sanctified; social life must be oriented toward justice for all jīvas, rather than the preservation of crony-monopoly capitalist prerogatives (Bhaktivedanta, 1972; Gandhi, 1940/1997).

If there can be anything called “conscious capitalism,” it is nothing more than a conscious appropriation of surplus labour. To conceal this truth, corporations sugarcoat exploitation through philanthropy and CSR initiatives—mechanisms that not only serve as tax shields but also secure further privileges. Beneath this sugarcoated veneer lies the same old logic of primitive accumulation: treating both soil and worker as free gifts to be mercilessly exhausted, their vitality extracted for profit under the guise of benevolence.

Selected References

Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, A. C. (1972). Bhagavad-gītā as it is. Los Angeles: Bhaktivedanta Book Trust.

Brunsson, N. (2002). The organization of hypocrisy: Talk, decisions and actions in organizations. Copenhagen: Copenhagen Business School Press.

Chatterjee, P., & Maira, S. (2019). The everyday life of capitalism in South Asia. New Delhi: Oxford University Press.

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1983). Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and schizophrenia (R. Hurley, M. Seem, & H. R. Lane, Trans.). Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Fuller, C. J., & Narasimhan, H. (2014). Tamil Brahmans: The making of a middle-class caste. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Gandhi, M. K. (1997). Trusteeship. Ahmedabad: Navajivan Publishing House. (Original work published 1940)

Ganguly, S. (2021). Insolvency and Bankruptcy Code in India: A critical analysis of corporate resolution. Company Law Journal, 2(3), 45–59.

Ganguly, S., & Banerjee, R. (2022). Resolution of financial firms under IBC: Lessons from the DHFL case. Economic & Political Weekly, 57(11), 32–39.

Harvey, D. (2005). A brief history of neoliberalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Jain, S. (2020). CSR in India: Philanthropy, hypocrisy, and accountability. Journal of Business Ethics, 164(2), 285–302.

McGoey, L. (2015). No such thing as a free gift: The gates foundation and the price of philanthropy. London: Verso.

Mukherjee, A. (2019). Rethinking Gandhi’s trusteeship in contemporary India. Economic & Political Weekly, 54(15), 23–29.

Narayanan, A. (2021). Crony capitalism in contemporary India: Structures and practices. South Asia Journal of Political Economy, 3(1), 15–36.

Rao, K. (2021). The menace of SLAPP suits in India. The Wire. Retrieved from https://thewire.in

Sharma, R. (2020). Business, religion, and morality: The Vaishnavite entrepreneur in contemporary India. South Asian Studies, 36(2), 211–229.

Singh, G. (2022). Oligarchic democracy in India: Corporate power and political economy. Journal of Contemporary Asia, 52(4), 598–616.

Weber, M. (2002). The Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism (P. Baehr & G. C. Wells, Trans.). London: Penguin. (Original work published 1930)

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