On Labor and Leisure in America

America’s obsession with dull, post-industrial labor remains a mystery to my sensibilities. I spent ages five through fifteen in the tiny town of San Marcos, Nicaragua, where most residents make a living through agriculture or small-scale, local businesses. I later moved to Miami, the city where I was born, and experienced great culture shock due to its fast pace and adherence to the American work ethic. My classmates at the small parochial school I had attended in Nicaragua perceived careers as a means to an end: work is the pillar that secures the stability of the family and thus of the community. By contrast, my new classmates in suburban Miami thought of careers as an end in themselves: labor itself generates fulfillment and inner harmony. After a few years of observing such a theory in practice, I came to the opinion that the service economy’s atomization of work creates a negative environment for children and badly weakens their sense of social responsibility as adults. Such an environment pressures children to over-specialize early in order to maximize capital in the future, often neglecting important concepts like the good life or the good of the community. When new generations are deprived of an ideal environment in which to pursue human excellence, young people, whether successful or unsuccessful as adults, have a poor understanding of personal fulfillment that goes beyond an empty cycle of production and consumption.

Unquestionably, both standards of living and capital generation in my Nicaraguan home town are much lower than almost anywhere in the United States. And varying degrees of poverty and hard ceilings for progress exist throughout the region. Although they live in a state of poverty, the people of San Marcos, or sanmarqueños, do not lament it, but relish the simple pleasure of socializing, talking, and sharing views with friends and neighbors. Work is secondary in their lives, understood to be unfortunately necessary, an attitude perhaps more common in Catholic societies. Leisure is ultimately considered more important than labor: it is the sacred time when people socialize in ways that promote the excellence of the body, mind, and soul.

Among the many memories I have that exemplify the importance of leisure are ones of children playing soccer on the streets, adults bringing out rocking chairs and talking about politics and genealogy, and families participating in almost-daily processions of the Catholic Church. In contrast, I find that Americans have a disordered sense of what leisure truly entails. Rather than being a matter of simple daily life and communitarian, American leisure is a brief luxury to be enjoyed in private. Given the nature of careers in the age of the service economy, it is unsurprising that American leisure, although manifested in diverse ways, is so consumerist. The individual who watches television or plays video games consumes entertainment that rarely nourishes the mind or soul, never mind the body. There is also a type of leisure in which potentially rich experiences are consumed in a shallow way: the vacation. I believe the vacation to be the greatest perversion of leisure. In modern commodified travel, there is little meaningful experience to be had. Instead, travelers tend to separate themselves from the places they visit, failing to do more than follow a sightseeing script. In addition, the concept of a vacation restricts leisure to a specified number of days and occasions, rather than letting it happen spontaneously and frequently.

Work is important too, partly because it satiates humanity’s innate desire to create. In disavowing work, I would be disavowing its own ability (not just leisure’s) to express beauty and the wonder of life. Nevertheless, I am unsure as to how employment in the increasingly fragmented service and “gig” economy reflects a passion for creation. For this reason, I believe we shouldn’t view careers as the ultimate end, but as necessary building blocks for healthy societies. These societies themselves must be fostered through the inseparable bonds between leisure, the communal pursuit of virtue, and a shared appreciation of beauty.

Conservatives Conserve

Most people will probably agree that the politicization of the environment is unfortunate. The Left now holds a near-monopoly on environmentalism and is often at the forefront of national and international efforts to conserve the environment. They rightly attack the Right for excusing legislative inaction on the issue with appeals to anthropocentric arguments (the view that only the human species—for example, its economic prosperity—counts). The contemporary Right ignores the existence of intergenerational obligations and similarly neglects long-term obligations to nature. They have convinced themselves that fluctuating numbers on a screen can replace the planet’s objective and finite beauty, arguing that the momentary generation of wealth and employment explains away any mismanagement of the soil we all share. It is the progressives, those who wish to do away with many long-held conventions and bring about a new world, who wish to serve as stewards of the environment. In terms of nature, the self-described conservatives are conserving nothing.

Rather than serve the interests of the American plutocracy, conservatives should actually lead in the preservation of this country’s national heritage. Given its shift toward stronger anti-immigration policies in recent years, the Republican party has once again demonstrated political ineptitude and greed. In terms of its political self-interest, it should be ripe for greener policies because they can be used along with anti-immigration rhetoric. But corporate interests tend to favor both more immigration and cuts in regulations, so Republicans have rejected the opportunity to add pro-environment policies to their agenda, opting to keep appeasing their donors through America’s natural defilement. The party could easily have argued that lax immigration policies burden the environment. Immigrants do overwhelmingly move to urban cores, leading to more urban sprawl, oil consumption, and strain on infrastructure. An opponent from the Left would cite studies which indicate that immigrant populations place a smaller strain on the environment than native populations. But there is an easy, common-sense counter-argument the Right could make: immigrants will not live like immigrants forever. Like all people, they will reproduce and create a new generation of American citizens, which will strive toward their native-born counterparts’ greater prosperity. In addition, there is no question that first-generation immigrants themselves wish to attain the comfortable living standards of the average American. Although these notions may prove extremely controversial among today’s environmentalists, they might stimulate a malleable conservative base to care more about the soil we stand on. There is more to conserve than the wallets of usurers.

 The Left is correct in its view that the living standards of the average American are environmentally harmful and decadent. The only socially unifying concept left in this country is seems to be that everyone loves to consume and, more often than not, consume beyond their means. The once-conservative value of thrift is no more. (Ironically, this is another value that progressives have brought into their socio-political culture.) If they do not want to adopt environmentalist policies as a result of their position on immigration, then Republicans could make the case that the conservative values of self-restraint and love of family should lead to a cultural shift that benefits the environment. They should advocate less reliance on large corporations and emphasize the importance of communitarianism and setting down roots. “Hard” or uncompromising individualism must cease to exist if American consumerism is to be defeated. And consumerism ought to be defeated, since it is antithetical to serious environmental efforts. Conservatives who truly wish to conserve must restrain themselves from consuming the products of the factory farm, or the cheap plastic trinkets imported on gas-guzzling ships. Moreover, they must understand the relationship between the soil they stand on and their duty to future generations.

 Today’s American professional class is rootless: it moves restlessly and selfishly around the country in an attempt to maximize its income without apparent regard to the communities it exploits. Its members seem to view themselves solely in overarching, global terms. Republican party leaders should urge the professional-class people in their base to settle down and become part of a tangible community. Only then will they feel a responsibility to maintain the breathtaking landscapes of North America for their descendants. Whatever their politics, American environmentalists and conservationists are the people who most truly love  their country.