Free: Brought to You by Capitalism

How capitalism has tainted the ways we receive gifts

It’s been close to 15 years now that I’ve been living into the Gift Economy. Over the years, I’ve collaborated with countless communities and organizations who have hosted workshops that I’ve facilitated. Often, because I asked them to extend the Gift experiment and not charge anyone to attend, they would advertise the workshop as “free.”

And something about that always bothered me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the framing of a “free” workshop never felt right.

The other night, during a meeting with the residents of Canticle Farm—the community where I live—a beautiful conversation unfolded about the Gift Economy and the mutual responsibility we share if we are to make our collective experiment sustainable. And I had an insight that I’ve been sitting with since:

The concept of something being “free” is a construct of capitalism.

When something is offered for “free,” it’s defined in contrast to something that costs money. It’s still operating within the logic of capitalism and transactional exchange. But the generosity and reciprocity of the Gift Economy don’t simply oppose capitalism—they exist on a fundamentally different paradigm. They inhabit a different plane of existence, grounded in an entirely different set of values.

An invitation into the Gift Economy is not an invitation to take something for nothing. It’s an invitation into a reciprocal relationship that creates sustainability for all. A gift offered in the Gift Economy is not part of a transaction—it’s part of a relationship.

The Gift Economy Myth

Many people mistake an offering in the Gift Economy as being “free.” In my experience, this is one of the most common—and one of the most dangerous—misunderstandings of what the Gift Economy is.

When something is labeled as “free,” it often invites people to take the offering. This is completely different from being invited into a relationship of reciprocity, which is at the heart of the Gift Economy.

Yes, a crucial aspect of the Gift Economy is separating the act of giving from any expectation of payment. It transforms what is typically a transactional exchange into a relationship grounded in generosity. But generosity cannot be a one-way street if the system is to be sustainable.

This is especially important because we’ve been so deeply conditioned by the market economy. We’re constantly, often unconsciously, looking for the best bargain. When something is “free,” many of us can’t help but get in on the “good deal.” We accept the gift offered in the spirit of the Gift Economy, but often we receive it with a market economy mindset. We celebrate what we’ve received without considering the needs of the giver.

A gift offered in the Gift Economy is not an invitation to take for self-interest. It’s an invitation into an ongoing relationship that nurtures sustainability.

Even saying “pay what you can” may not be enough. When I hear “pay what you can” without any further context, I focus on how much I, as an individual, feel I can or want to offer. It’s about me, rather than about the relationship. There’s not enough information about the needs of the giver or the larger ecosystem—and without that, there’s not enough for a relationship.

A bee and a flower are in a reciprocal relationship - part of a sustainable ecosystem.

What Happens Without Information

I recently learned another valuable lesson about this. I was doing a book talk, and because it wasn’t organized by a bookstore, I brought a stack of Fierce Vulnerability copies that I had purchased myself.

The event was for a small cohort at a public university, so I brought about 15 books. At the end of the event, I shared about the Gift Economy for about three minutes. I mentioned that the books cost me around $9 each, that the market price is $18.95, and that I was offering them to everyone as a gift. I added that, if they chose, they could offer a donation—not in exchange for the book, but as a way to support my living and my work.

All the books were given out, and—surprisingly—no one gave or even asked how to offer a donation.

And I wasn’t disappointed. Sure, since most of our lives still operate within a market system, there was a part of me that felt I had “lost” close to $150. But I learned an important lesson: we are so deeply conditioned by the market system that—even with the best intentions—a three-minute explanation of an alternative system isn’t enough to shift that conditioning. Even if people genuinely appreciate my work and want to support me (which I believe they did), they heard me offer a gift and instinctively received it—without thinking about reciprocity.

I realized that if I’m inviting people into a reciprocal relationship, I need to do more than talk about the Gift Economy for three minutes. I need to offer them enough information about me, my life, my work, and my financial needs to begin forming a relationship.

We live in a capitalist market. It’s the water we swim in. When I offer something in the Gift Economy, I’m not just giving away a “free” product. I’m trying to create a small container—a tiny island—of true reciprocity, into which I’m inviting others. And to do that, I need to create that container carefully and intentionally.

Nonviolent Global Liberation, a community that in my opinion is engaging in some of the most radical practices of the Gift Economy, puts it beautifully:

Operating in the gift economy means that what we give is neither given for free nor in exchange for anything. It is given freely in complete willingness and trust that when we share what it is that we need to thrive, within a group of people who share our vision, resources will organically flow to meet those needs. This is the fundamental trust that drives all those who choose to embrace the gift economy.

Notice the difference between something given “for free” and something given “freely.” It’s only the difference of two letters, but the latter sounds so much more liberating.

This journey is teaching me that real giving—giving that nurtures sustainability—requires more than intention. It demands courage to be transparent, vulnerability to ask for what we need, and trust in the collective to meet those needs. It asks us to slow down, to listen, and to build relationships where reciprocity is possible.

This is where the possibility of true sustainability lives.