OPINION: From Deadwood to Davos: The Capitalism of George Hearst Is Still With Us
But there are still some Al Swearingens holding the line
By Todd Epp, Northern Plains News
“The world ends when you’re dead. Until then, you’ve got more punishment in store.”
—Al Swearengen, Deadwood
In HBO’s Deadwood, George Hearst arrives not as a villain twirling his mustache, but as something more chilling: a quiet force with vast resources, political reach, and no regard for human collateral. He’s not there to shoot up the town. He’s there to buy it — or grind it into submission.
The man was real. So was the mine. And so is the capitalism he represents.
More than 150 years after Hearst carved his fortune out of the Black Hills, we’re still living in the system he helped define — where power consolidates, workers scramble, and extraction is the goal, whether it’s gold, data, or labor hours.
Capitalism, Then and Now
Hearst’s version of capitalism was simple: Own what others need. Use it to control them. He used Pinkertons and politicians. Today’s tycoons use hedge funds and algorithms.
He broke unions. Today’s firms use no-compete clauses and “contractor” loopholes.
He dominated railroads and mines. Today’s CEOs dominate supply chains, server farms, and app stores.
The language has softened, the branding has improved, but the logic remains: Accumulate. Consolidate. Deny.
The Farnum Factor
Deadwood also gave us E.B. Farnum — the simpering hotelier desperate to stay close to power, even if it meant betraying his neighbors. He didn’t need to understand the plan. He just needed to be useful.
Modern capitalism is full of Farnums: consultants, middle managers, influencers — the ones who parrot corporate lines and call it strategy. They don't build. They don't lead. They just want a piece of the claim before the next consolidation swallows them whole.
Northern Plains News graphic.
The Swearengen Warning
And then there’s Al Swearengen — a violent, complex man who still bled for the town he ran. He understood that capitalism without community is just conquest.
Swearengen was no hero. But he understood one thing Hearst never did: if the street dies, everyone loses.
He built the Gem Saloon not just for profit, but as infrastructure — a place to gather, to scheme, to survive. Hearst wanted Deadwood buried beneath his mine. Swearengen wanted it to stand.
In the end, it wasn’t the better man who prevailed. It was the one with deeper pockets.
The Legacy
Capitalism today still bears Hearst’s name — sometimes literally. His descendants built a media empire that shaped national politics for decades.
But his real legacy is structural. He taught us that the system isn’t broken — it was built this way.
And unless we remember Swearengen’s lesson — that people matter more than profit, and places more than claims — we’ll keep repeating the cycle.
From Deadwood to Davos, the players change. The rules do not.
—30—