Daniel Tutt challenges a comfortable academic consensus by arguing that Friedrich Nietzsche was not merely an apolitical poet of the soul, but a meticulous analyst of political economy whose work demands a reckoning with class struggle and the enduring reality of slavery. This is not a rehabilitation of a controversial figure; it is a demand to read him as a thinker who saw the capitalist system in its totality, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about modern labor and hierarchy. The piece gains urgency by suggesting that ignoring the economic underpinnings of Nietzsche's philosophy leaves us blind to the very mechanisms of subjugation he sought to expose.
Reclaiming the Political Thrust
Tutt begins by dismantling the idea that Nietzsche should be dismissed by the left simply because his reputation is complicated. He writes, "Nietzsche is a robust political thinker whose thought must be assessed in its fullness and when that fullness is brought to the surface the left can learn a whole series of lessons, many of which have been ignored or buried by the Nietzsche industry in academia." This framing is effective because it shifts the burden of proof: the problem isn't Nietzsche's radicalism, but the industry's refusal to engage with it honestly. Tutt argues that scholars often sanitize the philosopher to make him palatable, a move that ultimately distorts his actual insights.
The commentary pivots to a review of Dimitri Safronov's new book, Nietzsche's Political Economy, which Tutt praises for using a method of "triangulation" to connect Nietzsche's writings on slavery, debt, and the division of labor. However, Tutt is quick to point out the limitations of this approach. He notes that while Safronov successfully integrates these themes, he fails to address the question of political subjectivity and the legacy of rights. "The omission of a serious discussion on class in Safronov's wider work reveals the limitations of the more narrow method that he adopts in this book," Tutt argues. This critique is vital; it suggests that even when scholars try to be rigorous, they often stop short of the most dangerous implications of the text.
The non-interpretive bias method of reading Nietzsche typically requires a psychological analysis of the Nietzsche scholar performing this supposed 'neutral reading', caught as they are with certain fetishes that are romantic and idealistic in nature.
Tutt's assertion here is a powerful indictment of academic neutrality. He suggests that the attempt to read Nietzsche without ideological bias is itself a deeply biased act, one designed to protect the philosopher's "genius" from his own "aristocratic radicalism." Critics might argue that this approach risks imposing a modern political framework onto a 19th-century thinker, potentially missing the nuances of his specific historical context. Yet, Tutt's point stands: pretending that a thinker concerned with the hierarchy of human types is "neutral" is a form of intellectual dishonesty.
The Uncomfortable Link Between Slavery and Capitalism
The piece takes its most provocative turn when it examines Nietzsche's view on slavery not as a historical relic, but as a necessary component of modern industrial culture. Tutt explains that for Nietzsche, the abolition of slavery often disguises a deeper, spiritual obsequiousness. He writes, "Nietzsche contends that as a barometer of modern society's physiological well-being, as well as a repository of its externalities, slavery is an integral element of modern industrial culture." This is a difficult pill to swallow for modern readers, but Tutt insists it is essential to understanding Nietzsche's critique of "slave morality."
Tutt highlights Nietzsche's admiration for the Stoic Epictetus, a man who was born enslaved, to illustrate this complex relationship. In a lengthy quote from Dawn, Nietzsche describes Epictetus as an ideal who "defends himself against the outside world and lives in a constant state of supreme bravery," contrasting him with the Christian slave who lives in hope of divine grace. Tutt uses this to argue that Nietzsche believed the burden of living is too heavy without a form of subordination. "Nietzsche suggests that the burden of living will become too heavy without slavery, and that modern slavery can be loosely defined based on vague spiritual and physiological traits," Tutt observes. This interpretation forces the reader to consider whether our modern concepts of freedom are merely a different kind of chain.
If the modern individual 'regards himself as free' largely because 'he no longer perceives the weight of the chains' and any confrontation with freedom necessitates an increasing of inequality, how is Nietzsche's own critique not fostering the 'sublime development of slavery'?
This rhetorical question cuts to the heart of the piece's tension. Tutt acknowledges that Safronov is right to identify Nietzsche's desire to transform the world-economic point of view, but he warns that the result is ambiguous. The argument here is that Nietzsche's solution to the problems of capitalism might not be liberation, but a reorganization of hierarchy that is even more profound. A counterargument worth considering is that this reading risks justifying inequality by framing it as a "physiological necessity," a dangerous leap that could be used to defend oppressive systems. Tutt, however, maintains that ignoring this aspect of Nietzsche's thought is a greater error.
The Philosopher of Big Capital
Finally, Tutt grounds these abstract philosophical debates in the concrete reality of Nietzsche's own life, specifically his financial dealings. The author reveals that Nietzsche was not a detached observer but an active participant in the stock market, investing in risky bonds for railway and mining companies. "In fact, so active was Nietzsche in terms of investments some contemporaries described him as the 'philosopher of the big capital,'" Tutt writes. This biographical detail is not a minor footnote; it reframes Nietzsche's entire critique of the economy as coming from someone who was deeply embedded in it.
Tutt connects Nietzsche's personal financial crisis in 1873 to his philosophical shift, suggesting that his theories were shaped by the volatility of the market and his own attempts to fund his publishing ambitions. This challenges the romantic image of the philosopher as a pure spirit, replacing it with a figure who was "making arrangements to translate 1 million copies of his books into foreign languages" to secure his legacy. The implication is that Nietzsche's critique of modernity was not just theoretical, but a reaction to the very machinery of capital that he was trying to navigate.
Nietzsche's philosophy, as Safronov notes, is 'the history ('Geschichte') of the next two centuries, as though the future's narrative has already been scripted and speaks 'in a hundred signs' that have been seen before.'
Bottom Line
Daniel Tutt's commentary succeeds in stripping away the apolitical veneer often placed over Nietzsche, revealing a thinker deeply concerned with the mechanics of power, class, and economic subjugation. While the argument that slavery is a necessary element of modern culture is deeply controversial and risks being misused to justify inequality, it is a necessary provocation to understand the full gravity of Nietzsche's critique. The strongest part of this analysis is the insistence that we cannot separate Nietzsche's philosophy from his engagement with political economy, a lesson that remains vital for anyone trying to understand the structural dynamics of the modern world.