Idling:
Why It Is So Important Not To Be
Busy All The Time
by Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.
Most of us think being busy consists in doing
some form of work, whether we do it to earn a
living or for some other purpose. The time we spend
when we are not working or busy most of us devote
to some form of play. We also use such words as
"recreation" and "leisure" for the activities that
occupy the time we are not busy or working.
What remains of the time of our lives (the hours
of each day throughout the whole of our lives not
occupied by work, play, and leisure) is occupied in
part by sleeping and other biologically necessary
activities, such as eating, drinking, cleansing,
exercising, and eliminating, or it is filled with
mere idleness.
What I call "idling" is not what is generally
meant by idleness -- empty time or mere
time-killing pastimes. Idling is a very useful form
of activity that should be a part of everyone's
life. To make it a part of one's life requires not
trying always to be busy while awake, or even to be
indulging in the pursuits of play and leisure.
There are, in my view of the matter, six parts
of life: sleeping, toiling, playing, leisuring,
idling, and resting. They are activities that can
occupy the time of our lives. None is mere idleness
-- empty time or pastimes. In order to explain the
two parts of life that are not generally recognized
and properly understood -- idling and rest -- it is
first necessary to distinguish work from play and
then to distinguish two forms of work. There is no
need to explain the one of the six parts which
consists in biologically necessary activities, for
which I use the word "sleeping."
Work and Play
Work consists of all the serious activities that
we perform for some purpose -- for some end that
the work serves as a means of achieving. The
purpose may be to earn a living. In that case, the
work is economically necessary, just as sleep is
biologically necessary. The purpose may be some
form of self-improvement. In that case, the work is
morally necessary, for we are obliged to do what we
can in the direction of self-development. But in
either case, work is never done for its own sake,
but always for the sake of some good that it serves
as a means of obtaining.
In sharp contrast, play is an activity that we
engage in for its own sake -- solely for the
pleasure we enjoy in the act of playing itself. if,
for example, we swim, jog, or engage in other forms
of exercise for the sake of our health, and perhaps
even without enjoying the activity itself, then it
is not play. It belongs with sleep and other
biologically useful activities.
Those who engage professionally in various
sports, such as football, basketball, baseball, and
tennis, and earn money thereby -- often a great
deal of it -- may be playing as well as working,
but only if they derive some pleasure from doing
so. When their sole interest in the game they play
is the money they earn, then it is purely work and
not play.
Pure play is something we do for the sake of the
pleasure inherent in the activity and for no other
reason. When play is recreational in the literal
sense of serving to provide relaxation from the
fatigue, the strains and stresses, of work and to
recreate the energy we need to go on working, then
it is like the playing we do for our health's sake.
It is utilitarian play, not pure play, because in
addition to the pleasure inherent in the activity
itself, which makes it play, there is also some
ulterior purpose at work -- some end to be served
beyond the pleasure enjoyed.
The Two Forms of Work
There are some jobs that people take solely for
the purpose of earning a living. Since they do not
have independent means and need a livelihood, they
must work to obtain it. But the work they do, they
do solely for the sake of the livelihood they must
earn. If they could earn a living any other way,
they would give up such jobs. If, by good fortune,
they inherited enough wealth to exempt them from
the need to earn a living, they would never spend a
moment more doing such work.
That kind of work should be called "toil." Toil
is the kind of work that no one would do except for
the extrinsic compensation -- the pay or wages
obtained by doing it. Exempt from the need to earn
a living or given the opportunity to earn a living
by some other form of work, no one in his or her
right mind would go on toiling.
What shall we call that other form of work, work
which is not toil? The only word I know that serves
to designate it properly is the word "leisure." To
explain why I hold this strange view, I must deal
with the current misuse of the word "leisure" and
also with its etymology and its background in the
tradition of Western thought.
Of all the words in our daily vocabulary,
'leisure" is among the most misused. First of all,
it is used as a synonym for "free time -- time that
is not occupied by work. When, in this sense, we
speak of our leisure time, we are using the word as
an adjective. But the word should be used as a
verb, like the other words that name activities.
Play consists in playing, toil in toiling, sleep in
sleeping. So, too, leisure consists in
leisuring.
Secondly, we misuse the word "leisure" when we
identify leisuring with playing. Most people, when
asked how they spend their free time, the time not
occupied by working and sleeping, respond by saying
that they spend it in the recreational or playful
activities that they think of as pursuits of
leisure. Boating, fishing, hiking, mountain
climbing, all sorts of games, athletic or
otherwise, are, for them, leisure pursuits."
Because they have made the first mistake of
identifying leisure with free time, they are led to
make the second mistake of identifying leisure with
any activity that occupies their free time. Since
it is not work, it must be play.
The ancients distinguished play from work and
leisure from toil. The Greek word that we translate
by the English word "leisure" was the word "skole",
from which we derive the word "school." An
essential note in the connotation of "skole" was
learning -- whatever resulted in human development,
mental, moral, or spiritual. The English word
"leisure" derives from the Latin "licere" and the
French "loisir", meaning what is permissible or not
mandatory. In the sense in which sleep is
biologically necessary and in which toil is
economically necessary for those who cannot obtain
a livelihood in any other way, leisure is optional
or permissible. Yet, as we shall see, it is also
morally necessary for those who recognize their
obligation to make as much of themselves as
possible -- to improve themselves, to achieve
self-development.
Many persons earn a living by teaching, by
nursing, by scientific research, by writing books,
by composing music or performing it, by painting
pictures or sculpturing, and so on. If they would
continue to engage in such activities even if they
had no need to earn a living, then such activities
have the aspect of leisure. If they would
discontinue such activities the moment their need
to earn a living ceased for them, then what they
are doing is pure toil for them, with no aspect of
leisure.
Work is often a mixture of toiling and
leisuring. Work can also be pure leisure, even when
it is compensated by some form of payment, if it is
done for the sake of self-improvement or for the
benefit of society. And when such work is done
solely for self-improvement or for the benefit of
society, it is pure leisuring devoid of any
extrinsic monetary compensation. We engage in such
leisuring when we read in order to learn, when we
perform the duties of citizenship, when we engage
in acts of friendship or love, or when we employ
our skills creatively in any form of artistic
production.
A famous book written by an American economist,
Thorstein Veblen, was mistitled The Theory of
the Leisure Class. What Veblen wrote about was
the idle rich, those with enough wealth to spend
the whole of their waking life either in play or
idleness, with little or no leisure in it.
Idling Is Not Idleness
I said that there are six parts of life. In
addition to the four parts of life already
discussed -- sleeping, playing, toiling, and
leisuring -- there are idling and resting. Rest or
resting is not the same as sleeping. Most people
who say "Go take a rest" mean "Lie down and go to
sleep." But this can hardly be meant by those who
understand what the Bible means when it says that,
after creating the universe, God rested on the
seventh day; or by those who talk of heavenly rest;
or by those who observe the Sabbath as a day of
rest, exempt from working, playing, and even
leisuring.
The way in which members of Orthodox religions
observe the Sabbath as a day of rest indicates the
meaning of that term. They spend the day in
synagogue or church, praying and contemplating God.
Such rest lifts them out of and above the ordinary
pursuits of daily life. It transcends the
exigencies of all other worldly pursuits. For the
nonreligious, an analogous experience, which has an
aspect of rest, occurs in the contemplation of
beauty, either in nature or in works of art.
Finally, we come to idling and its benefits. All
of us understand what is meant by saying that a
motorcar is idling. Its engine is turning over, but
it is not in gear and so it is not going anywhere.
In a similar sense, we are idling when, while
awake, we stop toiling, leisuring, and playing, and
let our minds turn over without using them
purposefully in one direction or another. What
almost always happens then is that things pop into
our minds that are worth considering -- things that
would not have occurred to us if we persisted in
keeping busy by toiling or leisuring, or by
engaging in play.
Why does this usually happen? The answer is that
during the hours of work, either toiling or
leisuring, many things enter our minds that we push
aside or repress because they do not directly serve
the purpose at hand. Though they are pushed aside
or repressed, they are not totally discarded or
annihilated. They remain in our subconscious
waiting for the time of idling when they can pop up
into our waking but purposeless minds. To speak of
minds that are awake but purposeless is to
analogize them with motorcars with engines turning
over but not in gear and so going nowhere. If we
insist upon being busy all of the time, either in
work or at play, we lose the spontaneous creativity
that comes from idling.
The most profitable idling is the idling that
occurs in the waking hours after work is done,
especially if that work has a large component of
leisuring and is not mere toil. We may do such
idling while walking home from work, while driving,
or while taking some other form of transportation.
But if in that process we read newspapers or
magazines, listen to music, or watch television, we
prevent ourselves from idling.
The same holds for the time spent at home after
work and before dinner. If, the moment we have left
work behind and have nothing to do until we sit
down to dinner, we keep ourselves busy by reading,
watching television, or even chitchatting, then we
deprive ourselves of the advantages to be derived
from idling.
A life is poorer by this deprivation, just as it
is poorer if it is not enriched by the pleasure of
play, the profit of leisure, and the joy of rest. A
poor life is one consumed by toil and sleep, with
little or no play in it and little or no leisure,
not to mention idling and rest. A rich life is one
that has little or no toil in it, a great deal of
leisure (both compensated and uncompensated), a
moderate amount of play, and enough moments of
idling and rest to enjoy the benefits that can be
derived from those two very special parts of a
human life.
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