Entrepreneurship — not labour alone, nor capital alone — is the true engine of wealth creation. Labour provides effort; capital provides means. But neither can transform ideas into value without the spark of enterprise. It is the entrepreneur who combines risk, imagination, and coordination to turn stagnant resources into productive assets. In every civilization, progress has come not from those who owned resources, but from those who re-imagined their use.

Modern discourse often mistakes ownership for innovation. The billionaire monopolist who controls a market is celebrated as a “visionary,” while the genuine creator — the one who risks obscurity, failure, and ridicule to build something new — remains invisible. Monopolies extract; entrepreneurs create. The former consolidate privilege, the latter expand opportunity. A society that forgets this distinction rewards rent-seeking instead of risk-taking, and slowly corrodes its moral legitimacy.

Even global institutions that preach fairness often glorify the very monopolies they should question. A peace prize granted to those advocating privatization of natural resources, for instance, ignores that true peace rests on equitable prosperity — and that equitable prosperity depends on creativity, not control. Norway’s own welfare and stability came not from unrestrained markets, but from disciplined, collective stewardship of its resources.

Entrepreneurship deserves moral recognition not because it makes individuals rich, but because it makes societies dynamic. It converts inequality into aspiration and turns stagnation into movement. To honour entrepreneurship is to honour courage, foresight, and service — the qualities that bind freedom with responsibility.

Wealth without innovation breeds resentment; innovation without conscience breeds chaos. Real peace lies in the balance — where human creativity is free, but not exploitative; ambitious, yet accountable. That balance is the essence of moral economics — and the soul of entrepreneurship.