Skip to main content

Saving the Time of Our Lives



Thinking in the wake of Martin Hägglund’s This Life: Secular Life and SpiritualFreedom
If we had all the time in the world, if we were immortal, then it wouldn’t matter how we spent our time, for there would always be more of it. But if life is short, then it matters a lot. If we and the people we love are mortal and can die at any moment – and will die at some moment – then every day and every minute of our finite lives is supremely important. How, then, should we arrange our lives together so that the time of our brief lives is well spent?
In view of our mortality, wouldn’t we want  to spend as much of our allotted time as possible doing things we want to do, that are worth doing for their own sake, and to minimize the time we spend doing things we have to do? There is the realm of freedom and the realm of necessity. The realm of necessity is what we have to do whether we want to or not; it includes the activities necessary for maintaining life: cleaning; caring for children, the ill, the injured, and the aged; building and maintaining dwellings and infrastructure; and growing and preparing food belong to the realm of necessity. Some people may enjoy this work, but it has to be done whether we enjoy it or not. The realm of freedom, on the other hand, consists of the activities we choose to do because they are valuable in themselves: athletic activities, art, music, literature, science, and philosophy are examples.[1]
The realm of necessity is unavoidable in any society: stuff that has to be done regardless of whether anyone would choose to do it. There are different ways of getting people to do such work. The Greeks and Romans built their empires with the power of people they enslaved; so did American capitalism. Thus citizens, especially the elites, were free to engage in the arts, sciences, and, of course, politics. Then there are various ways of tying the lower classes to the land, as in feudalism and sharecropping, in which what peasants produce must be shared with upper classes, again leaving the well-born with time to pursue what seemed to them most valuable, such as explaining why God wanted things to be this way.
Does capitalism give us all the right to choose how we shall spend our time? Capitalism got its wealth in the first place by means of slavery in the US and the Caribbean, rapacious colonialism in Africa and Central and South America, and the dispossession of native peoples in the US and elsewhere. Wage labor, though, became the primary way for capital to make money. But although wage labor is called “free” labor, to set it apart from slavery, it is more perceptive to call it wage slavery. Whatever job we do for a wage becomes part of our realm of necessity, not only because we have to do it to stay alive, but because while we’re at work, we are under the dictatorship of our employer. Even the owners and managers of capital, in spite of their wealth, are not free from the demands of capital which requires them to grow their capital by ceaselessly competing for investment opportunities – more land, more resources, more labor and more consumers to exploit. Where can you rest your eyes on things and activities that are not in some way exploited by capital? Like a cancer on the living earth, capital sucks everything, including the time of our lives, into its grasp to the point that the survival of life, and certainly civilized life, is in question.
Is there a way of organizing a society that would expand the realm of freedom and shrink the realm of necessity, so that more of our time would be our own and not under control of others whose interests are opposed to our own? Let’s consider Democratic Socialism as it is laid out in three principles by Martin Hägglund in his book This Life.
First, we make it the purpose of our society to liberate our time from the realm of necessity, to expand the time in which we do what we, individually and collectively, choose to do.
Second, the means of production, the goods and resources we need to maintain our lives together, must be owned and managed democratically, for otherwise we do not control the valuable time of our lives as the first principle requires.
The third principle is familiar: From each according to our abilities, to each according our needs. Unless we know our needs will be met, we cannot freely choose how to spend our time, and we cannot know that our needs will be met unless we cooperate in meeting these needs to the best of our ability. What are our needs? Not only what we have to have just to live, but what we need to flourish, and flourish together. We need the means to develop our abilities – our abilities to do the things we find satisfying and the abilities to work together as citizens of a fully democratic society.
Such a society will reduce and transform necessary labor in three ways:
First, a great deal of necessary labor can be done in the realm of freedom when we no longer have to worry about making a living by selling the time of our lives to others. Child care, gardening, and architecture are socially necessary activities, but many people love to do them for their own sake, and would do so in a free society.
Second, the problem with unpleasant but necessary labor today is that those who do it do it because they need the money in order to survive; that makes it hard to “identify with the social purpose of what they are doing.” In a cooperative society, socially necessary labor is “shared by members of society on the basis of their abilities and commitments, with the explicit purpose of contributing to a common good that everyone can recognize as” making their lives better.[2]
Third, since we all participate in necessary labor, we will have good reason to develop and deploy labor-saving technology, whose purpose now would not be to eliminate jobs that people need, but to decrease and enhance the amount of time we spend doing things we have to do.
In capitalist society, most people at some level feel alienated from a society in which so much of the short time we have to live must be given over to doing things that we do not choose to do. We cannot feel at home in a society that is governed, economically and politically, by forces unconcerned with our welfare. People do what they can to carve out a space in this unfriendly space where they can feel more or less safe and comfortable – though many millions of us, some of whom you can see living on our streets, are unable to achieve even this. But very few of us feel any sense of owning or belonging to this society. Democratic Socialism will be the first  society that is truly of the people, by the people, and for the people. 
Only such a society has a shot at not perishing from the earth.


[1] Any of these can become necessary. For example, if one’s job is making music, then you have to produce music whether you want to or not. Conversely, something that typically belongs to the realm of necessity can become enjoyable and done for its own sake: gardening or childcare, for example. But from the perspective of society as a whole, growing and preparing food is socially necessary: someone has to do it, while music, art and philosophy can and will be done by those who choose them.
[2] Hägglund, This Life, p. 310.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MEANINGLESSNESS AND DESPAIR

In Woody Allen’s film “Crimes and Misdemeanors,” a wise European existentialist, Professor Levy, appears on video reflecting on the difficulties of living well in a universe without God. Here is one clip: Professor Levy : We must always remember, that when we are born, we need a great deal of love, in order to persuade us to stay in life. Once we get that love, it usually lasts us. But, the universe is a pretty cold place. It's we who invest it with our feelings and, under certain conditions, we feel that the thing isn't worth it any more. What are these “certain conditions” in which we feel that life “isn’t worth it anymore”—conditions in which love dries up? How about a world in which there is no place for us, where we don’t matter, where there is nothing we can do that has value? Is this not the world in which so many people now find themselves, the world from which they flee from their lives into a stupor brought on by alcohol or opioids, or escape ...

An Epidemic of Despair

An Epidemic of Despair There is an epidemic of despair in the United States. The visible part is the increase in what have been called “deaths of despair” -- deaths by drugs, alcohol, and suicide. Among people who have not gone to college and for whom a traditional middle-class life is more and more out of reach, such deaths are rising steadily. The increases are connected to “a measurable deterioration in economic and social wellbeing.” [1] In a West Virginia town where textile plants and woolen mills that once provided good jobs now stand empty, a journalist who used to live there was asked why so many people there are struggling with opioids, including heroin.. He responded , “In my opinion, the desperation in [this area], and places like it, is a  social  vacancy,” he said. “People don’t feel they have a purpose.” … “Many drug addicts, he explained, are “trying to escape the reality that this place doesn’t give them anything. That’s really hard to live with...