In Praise of Idleness — Bertrand Russell

Russell begins inside the old moral training: 'Like most of my generation, I was brought up on the saying: Satan finds some mischief for idle hands to do.' He says he 'acquired a conscience' that kept him working hard, but his opinions underwent 'a revolution.'

The central reversal is that the modern world suffers from too much work, not too little. Russell gives it comic force through the Naples beggars: when a traveler offered a lira to the laziest, eleven jumped up and the twelfth got the coin. > I think that there is far too much work done in the world, that immense harm is caused by the belief that work is virtuous. He then jokes that YMCA leaders should 'start a campaign to induce good young men to do nothing.'

Russell defines work as either 'altering the position of matter' or 'telling other people to do so.' The first is 'unpleasant and ill paid'; the second is 'pleasant and highly paid.' Landowners are not the idleness he praises, because 'their idleness is only rendered possible by the industry of others.'

The gospel of work comes from old systems where the small surplus was taken by warriors and priests. Force came first, but moral teaching was cheaper: persuade workers to serve others in the name of duty. > 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.

Russell does not deny that leisure produced civilization. The injustice is that leisure for a few was bought by labor for the many. His key reversal is that the value lies in leisure, not in toil. > Leisure is essential to civilization, and in former times leisure for the few was only rendered possible by the labors of the many. > Their labors were valuable, not because work is good, but because leisure is good.

Modern technique makes the old slave morality obsolete. Russell says leisure can now be 'not the prerogative of small privileged classes, but a right evenly distributed throughout the community,' and that it could be distributed 'justly without injury to civilization.'

The war accidentally proved that modern societies can maintain comfort with less ordinary labor. Many people were withdrawn into fighting, munitions, spying, propaganda, and government offices, yet wellbeing did not collapse. Finance hid the fact, but Russell insists future goods cannot nourish the present. > Borrowing made it appear as if the future was nourishing the present. But that, of course, would have been impossible; a man cannot eat a loaf of bread that does not yet exist.

Russell's pin-factory example shows how abundance becomes misery. In a sensible world, an invention that doubles output would mean everyone works four hours rather than eight. In the actual world, unemployment and overwork coexist. > There is, in the end, just as much leisure as on the other plan, but half the men are totally idle while half are still overworked. > In this way, it is insured that the unavoidable leisure shall cause misery all round instead of being a universal source of happiness.

The practical conclusion is a four-hour day under sensible organization. The remaining time should not be dictated by moralists; it belongs to the person living it. > If the ordinary wage-earner worked four hours a day, there would be enough for everybody and no unemployment. > Four hours' work a day should entitle a man to the necessities and elementary comforts of life, and... the rest of his time should be his to use as he might see fit.

Russell concedes only a minimal duty to work: because each person consumes the product of human labor, each should provide something in return. But he immediately limits the claim. > Every human being, of necessity, consumes, in the course of his life, a certain amount of the produce of human labor. > To this extent, the duty of work must be admitted, but to this extent only.