Applying a religion such as
Hinduism to business is laudatory. Undercutting any benefits of doing so,
however, is the advocation of religious principles that are so unrealistic in
the business world that they undercut the credibility of the project itself.
John D. Rockefeller was a Baptist who taught Sunday school at his church even
as he pushed competitors out of business who refused to be bought out by Rockefeller’s
refining monopoly, Standard Oil Company. To be sure, after retiring, he gave
away about half of his $800 million (1913 dollars), but he did not claim that
his personal generosity justified his earlier restraint of trade as a
monopolist. Rather, he claimed to be more of a “Christ figure” as a monopolist
than he was next as a philanthropist. In my study on Rockefeller, I concluded
that he was delusional, yet to some extent well-intended, given the destructive
competition that was ravaging small businesses in the refining industry during
the 1860s. Rockefeller thought of his giant as saving the otherwise
presumably drowning competitors, but Jesus in the Gospels does not drown people
who are unwilling to be converted. Clearly, the application of religion to
business can be abused, including in being much too idealistic, even utopian,
and in being used to justify egregious economic tactics and even greed itself.
Although G.D. Birla, a Hindu
industrialist when India was trying to achieve political and economic independence
from Britain, sought to integrate religious principles both in the
establishment and running of his steel company and his later philanthropy,
whereas most Christian titans at the time in the West saw their religious
principles as pertaining only to charitable giving after having become
rich, the application of Vedic knowledge to business is not without its own
drawbacks. Specifically, I contend that lofty sounding principles such as bhakti
and dharma can sail right over the real world of business, the
former being too high to make a dent in the latter. It does the profane no good
if the sacred treats the profane as “fly-over territory” between two coasts.
Speaking at a Bhakti Yoga
conference hosted by Harvard University in March, 2025, Rajeev Srivastava, a
Hindu entrepreneur, advocated applying the Vedic teachings of being a custodian
of wealth and giving back as a form of service, including in making donations
to charities. That is, he was asserting that the Vedic teaching of trusteeship
includes giving back to society as an integral part of business. Doing business with a purpose that includes
profit, but without greed, is key. Srivastava stressed having a spiritual
teacher who can teach a business practitioner how to serve. Presumably serving
enables a practitioner to include profitability in one’s business purposes and
yet without being motivated by greed.
It is ironic, therefore, that business
practitioners who can control pride and greed and are motivated by service to
God and humanity and seek mentoring by spiritual teachers are, according to
Srivastava, more likely to succeed in work tasks and to have profitable
businesses. For example, demonstrating integrity and character facilitates
raising capital from investors because it is important to them to be able to trust
the people who manage their investments through business strategy and
operations. The following terms are relevant:
loka-sangraham means having profit as an outcome but not as the purpose;
loka-saudhnyam is wealth as entrusted (trustee-oriented); loka-saumitram
is the establishment of relationships of love with all stakeholders; sakhya-priti
is caring for stakeholders; and jaget-priti is caring for the planet (i.e.,
accepting the limits of finite natural resources). Admittedly, the notion that
managers of a business would come to love stakeholders, which includes
employee union heads and government regulators, as well as the media, is
far-fetched.
Once in a business seminar on
theory construction, I proposed a theory that includes love. Looking back on
the assignment and my presentation years later, I felt utterly embarrassed for
having come up with such a ridiculous theory of business; the marketing
professor had been very charitable towards me in not checking me into a psyche
ward so anti-psychotic medication could be applied. I doubt it would have
helped. So, I have some “skin in the game” in being critical when religion
applied to business goes too far, for I have committed that very sin.
In applying Hinduism, even jaget-priti
seems utterly unrealistic. At the very least, even ethical managers of a
business naturally are oriented to profitability; even those who are not greedy
are oriented, or compartmentalized, to the practice of management, and
thus to its mind-frame. In fact, being
oriented to a firm’s profitability is part of the fiduciary responsibility of a
management. Of course, if a majority of the ownership of a business, whether
private or publicly-owned, wants to use its wealth to care for, and even love
stakeholders, fiduciary duty (assuming the rights of minority stockholders are
not impaired) can include diverting resources, attention, and even profits to
stakeholder groups. In short, applying religion to the business world should
not be so unrealistic that the only real application is for marketing purposes.
The term, servant leadership, is commonly bandied about for just such a purpose,
as is corporate “social responsibility.”
Also speaking at the Bhakti
Yoga conference, Prakash Govindan discussed the application of the business jargon,
servant leadership, to Hinduism. He said that three terms apply. Dama is
the finding inner balance (emotional mastery, inner resources are infinite); daya
refers to the mood of compassion (ontological humility); and dana is the
joy of giving. Finding inner balance is more realistic than loving and caring
for stakeholders, and finding inner peace may actually result in greater
compassion if inner security and stability naturally enable a person to feel
compassion deeper and more often. Applying Bhakti Yoga to business
practitioners, including CEOs, Govindan said that because “the material world
and material life [which includes business] is like banging your head against
the wall,” he tried silent meditation focused on his heartbeat. Out of that
came an orientation to serve, in part to stay humble and not get entitled. It’s
not about how much is given; rather, it is the intention that counts.
In Spiritual
Leadership in Business (2017), I argue that by engaging in a regime of
regular religious experience, whether in prayer, liturgy, or meditation, a manager
may be more inclined to be compassionate at work, even in leading an organization.
I reason that the enhanced sensitivity to the world, including suffering, happens
naturally from engaging in prayer or meditation because yearning experientially
in transcendence beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and
emotionality (sensibility) involves enhanced sensitivity. Even just the residue
of it can stay with a person back in the world, meaning that one’s sensitivity
generally, and including to other living beings, is greater than without having
experienced religious transcendence. This application of spirituality (being
practiced regularly) to business is much preferable to dogmatic preaching of religious
tenets. In fact, regular religious experience may naturally result in that
which the tenets intentionally prescribe. What happens automatically is,
I submit, more reliable than what depends on intention. This is not to say,
however, that regular religious practice will cause business managers to love stakeholders,
but relations could improve by being naturally more sensitive to the other. Smoothing
the rough edges rather than turning things upside-down in attempting to instill
a utopian dream may be how religion can be relevant in the world of business. For
to simply whitewash the profane with the sacred would make heaven a tautology.
