'
No one should ever work.
Work is the source of nearly all the misery in the world. Almost any
evil you'd care to name comes from working or from living in a world
designed for work. In order to stop suffering, we have to stop working.
That doesn't mean we have to stop doing things. It does mean creating
a new way of life based on play; in other words, a *ludic*
conviviality, commensality, and maybe even art. There is more to play
than child's play, as worthy as that is. I call for a collective
adventure in generalized joy and freely interdependent exuberance. Play
isn't passive. Doubtless we all need a lot more time for sheer sloth and
slack than we ever enjoy now, regardless of income or occupation, but
once recovered from employment-induced exhaustion nearly all of us want
to act. Oblomovism and Stakhanovism are two sides of the same debased
coin.
The ludic life is totally incompatible with existing reality. So much
the worse for "reality," the gravity hole that sucks the vitality from
the little in life that still distinguishes it from mere survival.
Curiously -- or maybe not -- all the old ideologies are conservative
because they believe in work. Some of them, like Marxism and most brands
of anarchism, believe in work all the more fiercely because they
believe in so little else.
Liberals say we should end employment discrimination. I say we should
end employment. Conservatives support right-to-work laws. Following
Karl Marx's wayward son-in-law Paul Lafargue I support the right to be
lazy. Leftists favor full employment. Like the surrealists -- except
that I'm not kidding -- I favor full *un*employment. Trotskyists agitate
for permanent revolution. I agitate for permanent revelry. But if all
the ideologues (as they do) advocate work -- and not only because they
plan to make other people do theirs -- they are strangely reluctant to
say so. They will carry on endlessly about wages, hours, working
conditions, exploitation, productivity, profitability. They'll gladly
talk about anything but work itself. These experts who offer to do our
thinking for us rarely share their conclusions about work, for all its
saliency in the lives of all of us. Among themselves they quibble over
the details. Unions and management agree that we ought to sell the time
of our lives in exchange for survival, although they haggle over the
price. Marxists think we should be bossed by bureaucrats. Libertarians
think we should be bossed by businessmen. Feminists don't care which
form bossing takes so long as the bosses are women. Clearly these
ideology-mongers have serious differences over how to divvy up the
spoils of power. Just as clearly, none of them have any objection to
power as such and all of them want to keep us working.
You may be wondering if I'm joking or serious. I'm joking *and*
serious. To be ludic is not to be ludicrous. Play doesn't have to be
frivolous, although frivolity isn't triviality: very often we ought to
take frivolity seriously. I'd like life to be a game -- but a game with
high stakes. I want to play *for* *keeps*.
The alternative to work isn't just idleness. To be ludic is not to be
quaaludic. As much as I treasure the pleasure of torpor, it's never
more rewarding than when it punctuates other pleasures and pastimes. Nor
am I promoting the managed time-disciplined safety-valve called
"leisure"; far from it. Leisure is nonwork for the sake of work. Leisure
is the time spent recovering from work and in the frenzied but hopeless
attempt to forget about work. Many people return from vacation so beat
that they look forward to returning to work so they can rest up. The
main difference between work and leisure is that work at least you get
paid for your alienation and enervation.
I am not playing definitional games with anybody. When I say I want
to abolish work, I mean just what I say, but I want to say what I mean
by defining my terms in non-idiosyncratic ways. My minimum definition of
work is *forced* *labor*, that is, compulsory production. Both elements
are essential. Work is production enforced by economic or political
means, by the carrot or the stick. (The carrot is just the stick by
other means.) But not all creation is work. Work is never done for its
own sake, it's done on account of some product or output that the worker
(or, more often, somebody else) gets out of it. This is what work
necessarily is. To define it is to despise it. But work is usually even
worse than its definition decrees. The dynamic of domination intrinsic
to work tends over time toward elaboration. In advanced work-riddled
societies, including all industrial societies whether capitalist of
"Communist," work invariably acquires other attributes which accentuate
its obnoxiousness.
Usually -- and this is even more true in "Communist" than capitalist
countries, where the state is almost the only employer and everyone is
an employee -- work is employment, i. e., wage-labor, which means
selling yourself on the installment plan. Thus 95% of Americans who
work, work for somebody (or some*thing*) else. In the USSR or Cuba or
Yugoslavia or any other alternative model which might be adduced, the
corresponding figure approaches 100%. Only the embattled Third World
peasant bastions -- Mexico, India, Brazil, Turkey -- temporarily shelter
significant concentrations of agriculturists who perpetuate the
traditional arrangement of most laborers in the last several millenia,
the payment of taxes (= ransom) to the state or rent to parasitic
landlords in return for being otherwise left alone. Even this raw deal
is beginning to look good. *All* industrial (and office) workers are
employees and under the sort of surveillance which ensures servility.
But modern work has worse implications. People don't just work, they
have "jobs." One person does one productive task all the time on an
or-else basis. Even if the task has a quantum of intrinsic interest (as
increasingly many jobs don't) the monotony of its obligatory exclusivity
drains its ludic potential. A "job" that might engage the energies of
some people, for a reasonably limited time, for the fun of it, is just a
burden on those who have to do it for forty hours a week with no say in
how it should be done, for the profit of owners who contribute nothing
to the project, and with no opportunity for sharing tasks or spreading
the work among those who actually have to do it. This is the real world
of work: a world of bureaucratic blundering, of sexual harassment and
discrimination, of bonehead bosses exploiting and scapegoating their
subordinates who -- by any rational-technical criteria -- should be
calling the shots. But capitalism in the real world subordinates the
rational maximization of productivity and profit to the exigencies of
organizational control.
The degradation which most workers experience on the job is the sum
of assorted indignities which can be denominated as "discipline."
Foucault has complexified this phenomenon but it is simple enough.
Discipline consists of the totality of totalitarian controls at the
workplace -- surveillance, rotework, imposed work tempos, production
quotas, punching -in and -out, etc. Discipline is what the factory and
the office and the store share with the prison and the school and the
mental hospital. It is something historically original and horrible. It
was beyond the capacities of such demonic dictators of yore as Nero and
Genghis Khan and Ivan the Terrible. For all their bad intentions they
just didn't have the machinery to control their subjects as thoroughly
as modern despots do. Discipline is the distinctively diabolical modern
mode of control, it is an innovative intrusion which must be interdicted
at the earliest opportunity.
Such is "work." Play is just the opposite. Play is always voluntary.
What might otherwise be play is work if it's forced. This is axiomatic.
Bernie de Koven has defined play as the "suspension of consequences."
This is unacceptable if it implies that play is inconsequential. The
point is not that play is without consequences. This is to demean play.
The point is that the consequences, if any, are gratuitous. Playing and
giving are closely related, they are the behavioral and transactional
facets of the same impulse, the play-instinct. They share an
aristocratic disdain for results. The player gets something out of
playing; that's why he plays. But the core reward is the experience of
the activity itself (whatever it is). Some otherwise attentive students
of play, like Johan Huizinga (*Homo* *Ludens*), *define* it as
game-playing or following rules. I respect Huizinga's erudition but
emphatically reject his constraints. There are many good games (chess,
baseball, Monopoly, bridge) which are rule-governed but there is much
more to play than game-playing. Conversation, sex, dancing, travel --
these practices aren't rule-governed but they are surely play if
anything is. And rules can be *played* *with* at least as readily as
anything else.
Work makes a mockery of freedom. The official line is that we all
have rights and live in a democracy. Other unfortunates who aren't free
like we are have to live in police states. These victims obey orders
or-else, no matter how arbitrary. The authorities keep them under
regular surveillance. State bureaucrats control even the smaller details
of everyday life. The officials who push them around are answerable
only to higher-ups, public or private. Either way, dissent and
disobedience are punished. Informers report regularly to the
authorities. All this is supposed to be a very bad thing.
And so it is, although it is nothing but a description of the modern
workplace. The liberals and conservatives and libertarians who lament
totalitarianism are phonies and hypocrites. There is more freedom in any
moderately deStalinized dictatorship than there is in the ordinary
American workplace. You find the same sort of hierarchy and discipline
in an office or factory as you do in a prison or monastery. In fact, as
Foucault and others have shown, prisons and factories came in at about
the same time, and their operators consciously borrowed from each
other's control techniques. A worker is a par-time slave. The boss says
when to show up, when to leave, and what to do in the meantime. He tells
you how much work to do and how fast. He is free to carry his control
to humiliating extremes, regulating, if he feels like it, the clothes
you wear or how often you go to the bathroom. With a few exceptions he
can fire you for any reason, or no reason. He has you spied on by
snitches and supervisors, he amasses a dossier on every employee.
Talking back is called "insubordination," just as if a worker is a
naughty child, and it not only gets you fired, it disqualifies you for
unemployment compensation. Without necessarily endorsing it for them
either, it is noteworthy that children at home and in school receive
much the same treatment, justified in their case by their supposed
immaturity. What does this say about their parents and teachers who
work?
The demeaning system of domination I've described rules over half the
waking hours of a majority of women and the vast majority of men for
decades, for most of their lifespans. For certain purposes it's not too
misleading to call our system democracy or capitalism or -- better still
-- industrialism, but its real names are factory fascism and office
oligarchy. Anybody who says these people are "free" is lying or stupid.
You are what you do. If you do boring, stupid monotonous work, chances
are you'll end up boring, stupid and monotonous. Work is a much better
explanation for the creeping cretinization all around us than even such
significant moronizing mechanisms as television and education. People
who are regimented all their lives, handed off to work from school and
bracketed by the family in the beginning and the nursing home at the
end, are habituated to heirarchy and psychologically enslaved. Their
aptitude for autonomy is so atrophied that their fear of freedom is
among their few rationally grounded phobias. Their obedience training at
work carries over into the families *they* start, thus reproducing the
system in more ways than one, and into politics, culture and everything
else. Once you drain the vitality from people at work, they'll likely
submit to heirarchy and expertise in everything. They're used to it.
We are so close to the world of work that we can't see what it does
to us. We have to rely on outside observers from other times or other
cultures to appreciate the extremity and the pathology of our present
position. There was a time in our own past when the "work ethic" would
have been incomprehensible, and perhaps Weber was on to something when
he tied its appearance to a religion, Calvinism, which if it emerged
today instead of four centuries ago would immediately and appropriately
be labeled a cult. Be that as it may, we have only to draw upon the
wisdom of antiquity to put work in perspective. The ancients saw work
for what it is, and their view prevailed, the Calvinist cranks
notwithstanding, until overthrown by industrialism -- but not before
receiving the endorsement of its prophets.
Let's pretend for a moment that work doesn't turn people into
stultified submissives. Let's pretend, in defiance of any plausible
psychology and the ideology of its boosters, that it has no effect on
the formation of character. And let's pretend that work isn't as boring
and tiring and humiliating as we all know it really is. Even then, work
would *still* make a mockery of all humanistic and democratic
aspirations, just because it usurps so much of our time. Socrates said
that manual laborers make bad friends and bad citizens because they have
no time to fulfill the responsibilities of friendship and citizenship.
He was right. Because of work, no matter what we do we keep looking at
out watches. The only thing "free" about so-called free time is that it
doesn't cost the boss anything. Free time is mostly devoted to getting
ready for work, going to work, returning from work, and recovering from
work. Free time is a euphemism for the peculiar way labor as a factor of
production not only transports itself at its own expense to and from
the workplace but assumes primary responsibility for its own maintenance
and repair. Coal and steel don't do that. Lathes and typewriters don't
do that. But workers do. No wonder Edward G. Robinson in one of his
gangster movies exclaimed, "Work is for saps!"
Both Plato and Xenophon attribute to Socrates and obviously share
with him an awareness of the destructive effects of work on the worker
as a citizen and a human being. Herodotus identified contempt for work
as an attribute of the classical Greeks at the zenith of their culture.
To take only one Roman example, Cicero said that "whoever gives his
labor for money sells himself and puts himself in the rank of slaves."
His candor is now rare, but contemporary primitive societies which we
are wont to look down upon have provided spokesmen who have enlightened
Western anthropologists. The Kapauku of West Irian, according to
Posposil, have a conception of balance in life and accordingly work only
every other day, the day of rest designed "to regain the lost power and
health." Our ancestors, even as late as the eighteenth century when
they were far along the path to our present predicament, at least were
aware of what we have forgotten, the underside of industrialization.
Their religious devotion to "St. Monday" -- thus establishing a *de*
*facto* five-day week 150-200 years before its legal consecration -- was
the despair of the earliest factory owners. They took a long time in
submitting to the tyranny of the bell, predecessor of the time clock. In
fact it was necessary for a generation or two to replace adult males
with women accustomed to obedience and children who could be molded to
fit industrial needs. Even the exploited peasants of the *ancien*
*regime* wrested substantial time back from their landlord's work.
According to Lafargue, a fourth of the French peasants' calendar was
devoted to Sundays and holidays, and Chayanov's figures from villages in
Czarist Russia -- hardly a progressive society -- likewise show a
fourth or fifth of peasants' days devoted to repose. Controlling for
productivity, we are obviously far behind these backward societies. The
exploited *muzhiks* would wonder why any of us are working at all. So
should we.
To grasp the full enormity of our deterioration, however, consider
the earliest condition of humanity, without government or property, when
we wandered as hunter-gatherers. Hobbes surmised that life was then
nasty, brutish and short. Others assume that life was a desperate
unremitting struggle for subsistence, a war waged against a harsh Nature
with death and disaster awaiting the unlucky or anyone who was unequal
to the challenge of the struggle for existence. Actually, that was all a
projection of fears for the collapse of government authority over
communities unaccustomed to doing without it, like the England of Hobbes
during the Civil War. Hobbes' compatriots had already encountered
alternative forms of society which illustrated other ways of life -- in
North America, particularly -- but already these were too remote from
their experience to be understandable. (The lower orders, closer to the
condition of the Indians, understood it better and often found it
attractive. Throughout the seventeenth century, English settlers
defected to Indian tribes or, captured in war, refused to return. But
the Indians no more defected to white settlements than Germans climb the
Berlin Wall from the west.) The "survival of the fittest" version --
the Thomas Huxley version -- of Darwinism was a better account of
economic conditions in Victorian England than it was of natural
selection, as the anarchist Kropotkin showed in his book *Mutual* *Aid,*
*A* *Factor* *of* *Evolution*. (Kropotkin was a scientist -- a
geographer -- who'd had ample involuntary opportunity for fieldwork
whilst exiled in Siberia: he knew what he was talking about.) Like most
social and political theory, the story Hobbes and his successors told
was really unacknowledged autobiography.
The anthropologist Marshall Sahlins, surveying the data on
contemporary hunter-gatherers, exploded the Hobbesian myth in an article
entitled "The Original Affluent Society." They work a lot less than we
do, and their work is hard to distinguish from what we regard as play.
Sahlins concluded that "hunters and gatherers work less than we do; and
rather than a continuous travail, the food quest is intermittent,
leisure abundant, and there is a greater amount of sleep in the daytime
per capita per year than in any other condition of society." They worked
an average of four hours a day, assuming they were "working" at all.
Their "labor," as it appears to us, was skilled labor which exercised
their physical and intellectual capacities; unskilled labor on any large
scale, as Sahlins says, is impossible except under industrialism. Thus
it satisfied Friedrich Schiller's definition of play, the only occasion
on which man realizes his complete humanity by giving full "play" to
both sides of his twofold nature, thinking and feeling. As he put it:
"The animal *works* when deprivation is the mainspring of its activity,
and it *plays* when the fullness of its strength is this mainspring,
when superabundant life is its own stimulus to activity." (A modern
version -- dubiously developmental -- is Abraham Maslow's
counterposition of "deficiency" and "growth" motivation.) Play and
freedom are, as regards production, coextensive. Even Marx, who belongs
(for all his good intentions) in the productivist pantheon, observed
that "the realm of freedom does not commence until the point is passed
where labor under the compulsion of necessity and external utility is
required." He never could quite bring himself to identify this happy
circumstance as what it is, the abolition of work -- it's rather
anomalous, after all, to be pro-worker and anti-work -- but we can.
The aspiration to go backwards or forwards to a life without work is
evident in every serious social or cultural history of pre-industrial
Europe, among them M. Dorothy George's *England* In* *Transition* and
Peter Burke's *Popular* *Culture* *in* *Early* *Modern* *Europe*. Also
pertinent is Daniel Bell's essay, "Work and its Discontents," the first
text, I believe, to refer to the "revolt against work" in so many words
and, had it been understood, an important correction to the complacency
ordinarily associated with the volume in which it was collected, *The*
*End* *of* *Ideology*. Neither critics nor celebrants have noticed that
Bell's end-of-ideology thesis signaled not the end of social unrest but
the beginning of a new, uncharted phase unconstrained and uninformed by
ideology. It was Seymour Lipset (in *Political* *Man*), not Bell, who
announced at the same time that "the fundamental problems of the
Industrial Revolution have been solved," only a few years before the
post- or meta-industrial discontents of college students drove Lipset
from UC Berkeley to the relative (and temporary) tranquility of Harvard.
As Bell notes, Adam Smith in *The* *Wealth* *of* *Nations*, for all
his enthusiasm for the market and the division of labor, was more alert
to (and more honest about) the seamy side of work than Ayn Rand or the
Chicago economists or any of Smith's modern epigones. As Smith observed:
"The understandings of the greater part of men are necessarily formed
by their ordinary employments. The man whose life is spent in performing
a few simple operations... has no occasion to exert his
understanding... He generally becomes as stupid and ignorant as it is
possible for a human creature to become." Here, in a few blunt words, is
my critique of work. Bell, writing in 1956, the Golden Age of
Eisenhower imbecility and American self-satisfaction, identified the
unorganized, unorganizable malaise of the 1970's and since, the one no
political tendency is able to harness, the one identified in HEW's
report *Work* *in* *America*, the one which cannot be exploited and so
is ignored. That problem is the revolt against work. It does not figure
in any text by any laissez-faire economist -- Milton Friedman, Murray
Rothbard, Richard Posner -- because, in their terms, as they used to say
on *Star* *Trek*, "it does not compute."
If these objections, informed by the love of liberty, fail to
persuade humanists of a utilitarian or even paternalist turn, there are
others which they cannot disregard. Work is hazardous to your health, to
borrow a book title. In fact, work is mass murder or genocide. Directly
or indirectly, work will kill most of the people who read these words.
Between 14,000 and 25,000 workers are killed annually in this country on
the job. Over two million are disabled. Twenty to twenty-five million
are injured every year. And these figures are based on a very
conservative estimation of what constitutes a work-related injury. Thus
they don't count the half million cases of occupational disease every
year. I looked at one medical textbook on occupational diseases which
was 1,200 pages long. Even this barely scratches the surface. The
available statistics count the obvious cases like the 100,000 miners who
have black lung disease, of whom 4,000 die every year, a much higher
fatality rate than for AIDS, for instance, which gets so much media
attention. This reflects the unvoiced assumption that AIDS afflicts
perverts who could control their depravity whereas coal-mining is a
sacrosanct activity beyond question. What the statistics don't show is
that tens of millions of people have heir lifespans shortened by work --
which is all that homicide means, after all. Consider the doctors who
work themselves to death in their 50's. Consider all the other
workaholics.
Even if you aren't killed or crippled while actually working, you
very well might be while going to work, coming from work, looking for
work, or trying to forget about work. The vast majority of victims of
the automobile are either doing one of these work-obligatory activities
or else fall afoul of those who do them. To this augmented body-count
must be added the victims of auto-industrial pollution and work-induced
alcoholism and drug addiction. Both cancer and heart disease are modern
afflictions normally traceable, directly, or indirectly, to work.
Work, then, institutionalizes homicide as a way of life. People think
the Cambodians were crazy for exterminating themselves, but are we any
different? The Pol Pot regime at least had a vision, however blurred, of
an egalitarian society. We kill people in the six-figure range (at
least) in order to sell Big Macs and Cadillacs to the survivors. Our
forty or fifty thousand annual highway fatalities are victims, not
martyrs. They died for nothing -- or rather, they died for work. But
work is nothing to die for.
Bad news for liberals: regulatory tinkering is useless in this
life-and-death context. The federal Occupational Safety and Health
Administration was designed to police the core part of the problem,
workplace safety. Even before Reagan and the Supreme Court stifled it,
OSHA was a farce. At previous and (by current standards) generous
Carter-era funding levels, a workplace could expect a random visit from
an OSHA inspector once every 46 years.
State control of the economy is no solution. Work is, if anything,
more dangerous in the state-socialist countries than it is here.
Thousands of Russian workers were killed or injured building the Moscow
subway. Stories reverberate about covered-up Soviet nuclear disasters
which make Times Beach and Three-Mile Island look like elementary-school
air-raid drills. On the other hand, deregulation, currently
fashionable, won't help and will probably hurt. From a health and safety
standpoint, among others, work was at its worst in the days when the
economy most closely approximated laissez-faire.
Historians like Eugene Genovese have argued persuasively that -- as
antebellum slavery apologists insisted -- factory wage-workers in the
Northern American states and in Europe were worse off than Southern
plantation slaves. No rearrangement of relations among bureaucrats and
businessmen seems to make much difference at the point of production.
Serious enforcement of even the rather vague standards enforceable in
theory by OSHA would probably bring the economy to a standstill. The
enforcers apparently appreciate this, since they don't even try to crack
down on most malefactors.
What I've said so far ought not to be controversial. Many workers are
fed up with work. There are high and rising rates of absenteeism,
turnover, employee theft and sabotage, wildcat strikes, and overall
goldbricking on the job. There may be some movement toward a conscious
and not just visceral rejection of work. And yet the prevalent feeling,
universal among bosses and their agents and also widespread among
workers themselves is that work itself is inevitable and necessary.
I disagree. It is now possible to abolish work and replace it,
insofar as it serves useful purposes, with a multitude of new kinds of
free activities. To abolish work requires going at it from two
directions, quantitative and qualitative. On the one hand, on the
quantitative side, we have to cut down massively on the amount of work
being done. At present most work is useless or worse and we should
simply get rid of it. On the other hand -- and I think this the crux of
the matter and the revolutionary new departure -- we have to take what
useful work remains and transform it into a pleasing variety of
game-like and craft-like pastimes, indistinguishable from other
pleasurable pastimes, except that they happen to yield useful
end-products. Surely that shouldn't make them *less* enticing to do.
Then all the artificial barriers of power and property could come down.
Creation could become recreation. And we could all stop being afraid of
each other.
I don't suggest that most work is salvageable in this way. But then
most work isn't worth trying to save. Only a small and diminishing
fraction of work serves any useful purpose independent of the defense
and reproduction of the work-system and its political and legal
appendages. Twenty years ago, Paul and Percival Goodman estimated that
just five percent of the work then being done -- presumably the figure,
if accurate, is lower now -- would satisfy our minimal needs for food,
clothing, and shelter. Theirs was only an educated guess but the main
point is quite clear: directly or indirectly, most work serves the
unproductive purposes of commerce or social control. Right off the bat
we can liberate tens of millions of salesmen, soldiers, managers, cops,
stockbrokers, clergymen, bankers, lawyers, teachers, landlords, security
guards, ad-men and everyone who works for them. There is a snowball
effect since every time you idle some bigshot you liberate his flunkeys
and underlings also. Thus the economy *implodes*.
Forty percent of the workforce are white-collar workers, most of whom
have some of the most tedious and idiotic jobs ever concocted. Entire
industries, insurance and banking and real estate for instance, consist
of nothing but useless paper-shuffling. It is no accident that the
"tertiary sector," the service sector, is growing while the "secondary
sector" (industry) stagnates and the "primary sector" (agriculture)
nearly disappears. Because work is unnecessary except to those whose
power it secures, workers are shifted from relatively useful to
relatively useless occupations as a measure to assure public order.
Anything is better than nothing. That's why you can't go home just
because you finish early. They want your *time*, enough of it to make
you theirs, even if they have no use for most of it. Otherwise why
hasn't the average work week gone down by more than a few minutes in the
past fifty years?
Next we can take a meat-cleaver to production work itself. No more
war production, nuclear power, junk food, feminine hygiene deodorant --
and above all, no more auto industry to speak of. An occasional Stanley
Steamer or Model-T might be all right, but the auto-eroticism on which
such pestholes as Detroit and Los Angeles depend on is out of the
question. Already, without even trying, we've virtually solved the
energy crisis, the environmental crisis and assorted other insoluble
social problems.
Finally, we must do away with far and away the largest occupation,
the one with the longest hours, the lowest pay and some of the most
tedious tasks around. I refer to *housewives* doing housework and
child-rearing. By abolishing wage-labor and achieving full unemployment
we undermine the sexual division of labor. The nuclear family as we know
it is an inevitable adaptation to the division of labor imposed by
modern wage-work. Like it or not, as things have been for the last
century or two it is economically rational for the man to bring home the
bacon, for the woman to do the shitwork to provide him with a haven in a
heartless world, and for the children to be marched off to youth
concentration camps called "schools," primarily to keep them out of
Mom's hair but still under control, but incidentally to acquire the
habits of obedience and punctuality so necessary for workers. If you
would be rid of patriarchy, get rid of the nuclear family whose unpaid
"shadow work," as Ivan Illich says, makes possible the work-system that
makes *it* necessary. Bound up with this no-nukes strategy is the
abolition of childhood and the closing of the schools. There are more
full-time students than full-time workers in this country. We need
children as teachers, not students. They have a lot to contribute to the
ludic revolution because they're better at playing than grown-ups are.
Adults and children are not identical but they will become equal through
interdependence. Only play can bridge the generation gap.
I haven't as yet even mentioned the possibility of cutting way down
on the little work that remains by automating and cybernizing it. All
the scientists and engineers and technicians freed from bothering with
war research and planned obsolescence would have a good time devising
means to eliminate fatigue and tedium and danger from activities like
mining. Undoubtedly they'll find other projects to amuse themselves
with. Perhaps they'll set up world-wide all-inclusive multi-media
communications systems or found space colonies. Perhaps. I myself am no
gadget freak. I wouldn't care to live in a pushbutton paradise. I don't
what robot slaves to do everything; I want to do things myself. There
is, I think, a place for labor-saving technology, but a modest place.
The historical and pre-historical record is not encouraging. When
productive technology went from hunting-gathering to agriculture and on
to industry, work increased while skills and self-determination
diminished. The further evolution of industrialism has accentuated what
Harry Braverman called the degradation of work. Intelligent observers
have always been aware of this. John Stuart Mill wrote that all the
labor-saving inventions ever devised haven't saved a moment's labor.
Karl Marx wrote that "it would be possible to write a history of the
inventions, made since 1830, for the sole purpose of supplying capital
with weapons against the revolts of the working class." The enthusiastic
technophiles -- Saint-Simon, Comte, Lenin, B. F. Skinner -- have always
been unabashed authoritarians also; which is to say, technocrats. We
should be more than sceptical about the promises of the computer
mystics. *They* work like dogs; chances are, if they have their way, so
will the rest of us. But if they have any particularized contributions
more readily subordinated to human purposes than the run of high tech,
let's give them a hearing.
What I really want to see is work turned into play. A first step is
to discard the notions of a "job" and an "occupation." Even activities
that already have some ludic content lose most of it by being reduced to
jobs which certain people, and only those people are forced to do to
the exclusion of all else. Is it not odd that farm workers toil
painfully in the fields while their air-conditioned masters go home
every weekend and putter about in their gardens? Under a system of
permanent revelry, we will witness the Golden Age of the dilettante
which will put the Renaissance to shame. There won't be any more jobs,
just things to do and people to do them.
The secret of turning work into play, as Charles Fourier
demonstrated, is to arrange useful activities to take advantage of
whatever it is that various people at various times in fact enjoy doing.
To make it possible for some people to do the things they could enjoy
it will be enough just to eradicate the irrationalities and distortions
which afflict these activities when they are reduced to work. I, for
instance, would enjoy doing some (not too much) teaching, but I don't
want coerced students and I don't care to suck up to pathetic pedants
for tenure.
Second, there are some things that people like to do from time to
time, but not for too long, and certainly not all the time. You might
enjoy baby-sitting for a few hours in order to share the company of
kids, but not as much as their parents do. The parents meanwhile,
profoundly appreciate the time to themselves that you free up for them,
although they'd get fretful if parted from their progeny for too long.
These differences among individuals are what make a life of free play
possible. The same principle applies to many other areas of activity,
especially the primal ones. Thus many people enjoy cooking when they can
practice it seriously at their leisure, but not when they're just
fueling up human bodies for work.
Third -- other things being equal -- some things that are
unsatisfying if done by yourself or in unpleasant surroundings or at the
orders of an overlord are enjoyable, at least for a while, if these
circumstances are changed. This is probably true, to some extent, of all
work. People deploy their otherwise wasted ingenuity to make a game of
the least inviting drudge-jobs as best they can. Activities that appeal
to some people don't always appeal to all others, but everyone at least
potentially has a variety of interests and an interest in variety. As
the saying goes, "anything once." Fourier was the master at speculating
how aberrant and perverse penchants could be put to use in
post-civilized society, what he called Harmony. He thought the Emperor
Nero would have turned out all right if as a child he could have
indulged his taste for bloodshed by working in a slaughterhouse. Small
children who notoriously relish wallowing in filth could be organized in
"Little Hordes" to clean toilets and empty the garbage, with medals
awarded to the outstanding. I am not arguing for these precise examples
but for the underlying principle, which I think makes perfect sense as
one dimension of an overall revolutionary transformation. Bear in mind
that we don't have to take today's work just as we find it and match it
up with the proper people, some of whom would have to be perverse
indeed. If technology has a role in all this it is less to automate work
out of existence than to open up new realms for re/creation. To some
extent we may want to return to handicrafts, which William Morris
considered a probable and desirable upshot of communist revolution. Art
would be taken back from the snobs and collectors, abolished as a
specialized department catering to an elite audience, and its qualities
of beauty and creation restored to integral life from which they were
stolen by work. It's a sobering thought that the grecian urns we write
odes about and showcase in museums were used in their own time to store
olive oil. I doubt our everyday artifacts will fare as well in the
future, if there is one. The point is that there's no such thing as
progress in the world of work; if anything it's just the opposite. We
shouldn't hesitate to pilfer the past for what it has to offer, the
ancients lose nothing yet we are enriched.
The reinvention of daily life means marching off the edge of our
maps. There is, it is true, more suggestive speculation than most people
suspect. Besides Fourier and Morris -- and even a hint, here and there,
in Marx -- there are the writings of Kropotkin, the syndicalists Pataud
and Pouget, anarcho-communists old (Berkman) and new (Bookchin). The
Goodman brothers' *Communitas* is exemplary for illustrating what forms
follow from given functions (purposes), and there is something to be
gleaned from the often hazy heralds of
alternative/appropriate/intermediate/convivial technology, like
Schumacher and especially Illich, once you disconnect their fog
machines. The situationists -- as represented by Vaneigem's *Revolution*
*of* *Daily* *Life* and in the *Situationist* *International*
*Anthology* -- are so ruthlessly lucid as to be exhilarating, even if
they never did quite square the endorsement of the rule of the worker's
councils with the abolition of work. Better their incongruity, though
than any extant version of leftism, whose devotees look to be the last
champions of work, for if there were no work there would be no workers,
and without workers, who would the left have to organize?
So the abolitionists would be largely on their own. No one can say
what would result from unleashing the creative power stultified by work.
Anything can happen. The tiresome debater's problem of freedom vs.
necessity, with its theological overtones, resolves itself practically
once the production of use-values is coextensive with the consumption of
delightful play-activity.
Life will become a game, or rather many games, but not -- as it is
now - -- a zero/sum game. An optimal sexual encounter is the paradigm of
productive play, The participants potentiate each other's pleasures,
nobody keeps score, and everybody wins. The more you give, the more you
get. In the ludic life, the best of sex will diffuse into the better
part of daily life. Generalized play leads to the libidinization of
life. Sex, in turn, can become less urgent and desperate, more playful.
If we play our cards right, we can all get more out of life than we put
into it; but only if we play for keeps.
No one should ever work. Workers of the world... *relax*!'
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