Indefinite extension
Despite all the progress we have made in our building of institutions and technologies, we are yet to guarantee security and opportunity for every person born to this planet. Many continue to live their lives in perpetual hunger and insecurity as others outside the poverty trap overwork themselves to make ends meet. All of this while the leisure class saturates in splendor, well sheltered from the harsh realities of their neighbors.
This was an insight made by the mathematician and philosopher, Bertrand Russell, nearly a century ago, in his book In Praise of Idleness. Yet his observations remain as pertinent today as it did back then. What we have now is a global society with the means to cure all of our worldly hardships. Yet we have opted instead for a system that channels the populous to desiring and manufacturing things that we do not really need.
In the past, the scope for overwork and overproduction was constrained in part by the limitations of technology. After all, there was only so much that hunter gatherers or early agrarian societies could do. But with the advent of civilization came work of another kind. From the building of pyramids to the crusades, political and religious elites began to exploit the populous for self-serving enterprises of increasing proportions.
Alongside all that was the rise of large bureaucracies and companies. And while such developments were necessary for managing and organizing ourselves at newfound scales, it was also the type of work that can, to paraphrase Russell, be extended indefinitely. Today, every manager has a manager of his or her own—a near endless chain of officialdom. We must wonder sometimes to what end these things should go.
Misguided vigor
Indeed, it is Russell’s contention that economies today do too much work. That is, many people mistake their busyness for productivity when their work is, in reality, more unproductive than they’d care to admit. Yet here we all are, squirreling away without a moment for pause and introspection.
Part of the issue, Russell argues, stems from the unquestioned industrial belief that work itself is inherently virtuous, dutiful and admirable. Many in turn derive their sense of self-worth from the relative size of their paycheck and the fancifulness of their job title. We ought to wonder, however, why such edicts and desires exist in the first place, and to whom they benefit the most. It seems to have been forgotten, Russell observes, that work is valuable not because work is good, but because leisure is good.
“The conception of duty, speaking historically, has been a means used by the holders of power to induce others to live for the interests of their masters rather than for their own. Of course the holders of power conceal this fact from themselves by managing to believe that their interests are identical with the larger interests of humanity.”
Bertrand Russell. (1935). In Praise of Idleness.
Topsy-turvy economics
The profit-motive in a capitalistic economy likewise is mind-flaying. In Russell’s view, “[it] has made everything topsy-turvy”, for we have emerged as a society to obsess over profits and production above all else. Anyone who spends enough time chatting with their neighbors or colleagues will see the conversation turn eventually to the real estate and investment fads. Just how much of our global attention, I wonder, is allocated to our thirst for accumulation?
The philosopher points similarly to the state of advertising. And while it might be individually rational and sensible for each firm to dedicate resources to the convincing of the masses that their products are worthwhile, the collective result from this arms race is arguably asinine. Surely society can do better as a whole than to employ so many bright, young minds to the art of marketing, peddling, and persuading, right?
For another case, we need only to look to the zeal with which we mine for gold and other minerals. As Russell observes, “gold is dug out of the earth in South Africa [for example], and is conveyed, with infinite precautions against theft and accident, to London or Paris or New York, where it is again placed underground in the vaults of banks. It might just as well have been left underground in South Africa… [Yet] it is still supposed that, by some mysterious hocus-pocus, everybody’s financial stability depends upon a hoard of gold in the central bank”.
Strange no?—That our sense of economic order depends not only on our trust in each other, but in our shared beliefs in the arbitrary value of the elements that we keep painstakingly deep below ground. As Russell adds, “the only relevant difference between Robinson Crusoe and a whole nation is that Robinson Crusoe organizes his time sensibly and a nation does not.”
Leisure and civilization
More than that, the mindless busyness of the modern world has turned the people into a passive population. Many of us today spend much of our leisure time engaged in the idle viewing of cinema, television, sports, and social media, for we lack the energy to pursue our own hobbies after an exhausting week on the job.
Russell believes, however, that if we minimize counterproductive work, reduce the average hours of the workweek, and employ a greater fraction of idle workers, we might be able to realize the untapped passions and potentials that lay dormant inside us. Such a world might bring about more painters, dancers, singers, gardeners, hikers, travelers, writers, educators, and scientists who practice their craft not for the foodstuffs and rents that wages buy, but for the joys and wonders of their vocation. Leisure, Russell reminds, “is essential to civilization”.
A habit of mind
It is also possible, of course, that many would simply use their newfound time to live even more frivolously, for modern society is yet to cure itself of excessive gambling, drinking, addiction, and general hooliganism. The “wise use of leisure” then, as Russell sees it, depends mightily on the institutions and education we put forth. But therein lies the dilemma, for we ourselves are products of the institutions and education that shape our wants and actions. And who’s to say what is and is not a wise use of time?
In any case, what Russell is advocating for is a “contemplative habit of mind”—“a habit [for] finding pleasure in thought rather than in action.” It reflects an understanding that calm contemplation is the only “safeguard against unwisdom… and the blind march of nations into unnecessary disaster.” Such habits, of course, are not so easy to form. They require a dogged cultivation of perspective. One must be able to see our affairs against the backdrop of history, evolution, and the cosmos. That’s not to say, however, that our preoccupations are insignificant, only that we might behave better as a collective species if we possessed a more holistic conception of our place in the Universe.
“Hamlet is held up as an awful warning against thought without action, but no one holds up Othello as a warning against action without thought… I think action is best when it emerges from a profound apprehension of the universe and human destiny, not from some wildly passionate impulse of romantic but disproportioned self-assertion.”
Bertrand Russell. (1935). In Praise of Idleness.
Educate our masters
It goes without saying that it is important to ensure that the people we put into power are intelligent and contemplative. But even the peculiarities here are many. Society demands, for instance, that people undergo years of training before one can pilot a plane, practice medicine, or educate a child. Yet at the same time, society remains content with hiring executives with no industry experience, politicians with no sense for democracy, and financiers who lack any skin in the game.
As Russell writes, “causation in the modern world is more complex and remote in its ramifications than it ever was before. But those who control these organizations are [usually] ignorant men who do not know the hundredth part of the consequences of their actions… The rulers of the world have always been stupid, but have not in the past been so powerful as they are now.”
The only prescription, as the philosopher sees it, is “the old one advocated by [the statesman] Disraeli: [We must] educate our masters.” But this sort of education, one that incorporates the ideals and values of humanity, one that goes beyond the simple goals of profit-making and politicking, is still probably out of reach. Reforms of this magnitude will require herculean efforts, not only of our teachers, but from ourselves, our parents, our communities, our administrations, and everybody in between.
If I were a comet
Russell concedes that “it is impossible to make the whole of life soft and pleasant”. But it need not be the case that we live as hurriedly, painfully, and foolishly as we have before, for we already have the means, potential, and good nature to set things anew. And while it is a longshot, security and opportunity can indeed be made available to every child if we are careful and considerate. The question, really, is whether enough of us will slow down to reorient this enterprise we call humanity; and whether this will be done swiftly enough before too many of us lose our way. On this, a damning rumination from Russell:
“If I were a comet, I should consider the men of our present age a degenerate breed… In our day, it is difficult to imagine a world in which everybody… was preoccupied with comets, and filled with terror whenever one appeared. Most of us [today] have never seen a comet. The cause of the change in our attitude is not merely rationalism, but artificial lighting. In the streets of a modern city the night sky is invisible… We have blotted out the heavens, and only a few remain aware of stars and planets, meteorites and comets. The world of our daily life is more man-made than at any previous epoch. In this there is loss as well as gain: Man, in the security of his dominion, is becoming trivial, arrogant, and a little mad.”
Bertrand Russell. (1935). In Praise of Idleness.
Sources and further reading
- Russell, Bertrand. (1935). In Praise of Idleness.
- Diamond, Jared. (1997). Guns, Germs, and Steel.
- Schelling, Thomas. (1978). Micromotives and Macrobehavior.
- Thomas, Lewis. (1974). The Lives of a Cell.
- Krugman, Paul. (1995). The Self Organizing Economy.
- Levitsky, Steven., & Ziblatt, Daniel. (2018). How Democracies Die.
- Acemoglu, Daren., & Robinson, James. (2012). Why Nations Fail.
- Thoreau, Henry David. (1854). Walden.
- Galbraith, John Kenneth. (1983). The Anatomy of Power.
- Johnson, Fenton. (2020). At the Center of All Beauty.
- De Botton, Alain. (2004). Status Anxiety.