The Value of Leisure

“Idle hands are the devil's tool,” I’m told by my high school teachers and classmates each and every day; because of such nonsense, free time for me often becomes little more than a source of guilt and uneasiness. Now that summer has begun, what shall I do without rubrics or multiple-choice scantrons to guide me, I ask. If I’m not systematically producing something, then I feel helpless and lost and insignificant. There’s a moral quota on busyness and occupied time, and I’m tyrannized by the guilt of not filling it.

For the vast majority of human existence, labor was performed out of necessity. A family produced for its own survival: if there was a drought, then a great many farmers starved; if there was a frightful winter, then a great many families froze. This day-by-day sustenance living continued from the birth of civilizations all the way until the Industrial Revolution. Where leisure existed – the class of it, for example, that gave rise to the majestic Athenian culture – it was afforded by the servitude of the slave or the blood and sweat of the peasant. This system, however, is no longer necessary. Leisure is a value that can be enjoyed by all, because modern technology has allowed for great abundance. Modern technology has the potential for bestowing great prosperity and happiness; it can allow for human liberation from the cogs of continuous, exhausting labor.

America’s value system of rugged individualism will have none of that laziness, however. The pre-industrialization daily routine, where work was necessary for survival and idleness quite simply led to death, left a profound impress on the human ethos system. The moral impulse in today’s high-paced society is that leisure is wicked and that work is noble. These values are anachronistic at best and the source of a great deal of unhappiness at worst. The Slave Ethic that work for a profit is morally righteous exists in a society where it is no longer needed. Our industry could cut the employment of all people to four hours a day, and distribute those jobs evenly. It would then produce as much product but employ far more people and afford far more leisure. Instead, we allow some to be drastically over-worked and others to be unemployed and starving. This is patent foolishness, borne out of an antiquated moral system.

Intelligent use of leisure is tremendously important. Work kills our capacity for intellectualism; it makes us passive and beaten-down. As a culture we have nothing more than mindless sitcoms and air-brushed pornography to succor our psyche in a state of exhaustion after strenuous labor; as a culture we crave an escape from reality – liquor and television and vacation – rather than a fundamental enjoyment of it. This passivity and escapism could be cured leisure.

Thus, during my free hours this summer, as the days slowly creep by, with lemonade and birds chirping and sunny skies, I hope to invest my energies in the higher pleasures: maybe I’ll read a little, maybe I’ll write a little, maybe I’ll go to some museums. A good test of a man’s moral character is how he uses his free moments. I hope to remain productive – in a leisurely way, of course.

(The pictures are of Paris. I went with my dad in March.)