The need for leisure

This post emerges from a particularly hectic period when personal and professional life of the author collided, bringing into focus a familiar yet profound truth: these two dimensions of life are in constant tension. More than that - professional life always prevails unless actively countered by a conscious effort to reclaim the balance.

This isn’t a groundbreaking revelation; we all know that work—those activities we engage in for money—will always find ways to demand more from us. The system hinges on the concept of productivity: we must offer something of value in exchange for something of value. In practical terms, this means sacrificing our time and attention for a salary.

And that’s fine. It’s the way the world functions, and there's nothing inherently wrong with sacrificing some of our time to secure the means for survival. Compared to the labour conditions of Victorian factory workers or the serfs of medieval Europe, modern capitalist model is undoubtedly an improvement. Unlike those eras, we now have the opportunity, at least in theory, to improve our material circumstances.

Furthermore, work can provide a sense of purpose and meaning. The Christian view of work for instance, regards it as intrinsically valuable—a form of service, not just to God but to fellow human beings. This perspective can and does give individuals a sense of contributing to something greater than themselves.

And yet we all know that there is a problem with the nature of modern work. We are conditioned—often subtly, but relentlessly—to believe that prioritising productivity above all else is virtuous. We’re inundated with messages that urge us to do more, not less. Productivity "cults" and self-help influencers preach the gospel of efficiency, urging us to "hack" our bodies to squeeze out more energy, all in the service of work. The ideal they promote is a life in constant motion—work without pause, 24/7, where every moment is subordinated to work’s demands.

This relentless pressure from the workplace is everywhere. Work demands our full focus from at least 9 to 5, and often much more. During those eight hours, we’re expected to surrender ourselves entirely to the requirements of line managers, corporate policies, key performance indicators, and company balance sheets. But that's the deal, right? After all, we signed the employment contract.

The trouble is that personal and family life—the domain where we truly have agency—often has to take a back seat. Aristotle referred to the household as oikos, the most basic unit of society, where civic virtues are nurtured and tested. Within the family, our decisions have the most direct and immediate impact. They influence those closest to us—our spouses, children, even our neighbours. This IS the domain where we exercise the greatest level of control and responsibility, where our actions shape the everyday lives of those we care for.

Yet, in modern society, this essential space of family life is being eroded by the overwhelming demands of work. As we devote more and more time and energy to our professional obligations, the time available for meaningful engagement with family diminishes. How often have we postponed time with loved ones to finish a report or take an unexpected work call? How frequently do we find ourselves too exhausted after a long day at work to properly engage with those who rely on us emotionally and practically? Over time, this dynamic leads to a situation where personal life becomes secondary, reduced to a series of fleeting moments in between work commitments.

The effects of this imbalance are profound. When family life is neglected in favour of professional achievement, the bonds of intimacy and trust that hold households together begin to fray. Relationships with spouses can suffer as meaningful conversations are replaced by hurried exchanges of logistical details. Children, in particular, feel the absence of parental attention, and neighbours remain unfamiliar faces on the periphery of our increasingly work-centred existence. It is not just our professional selves that demand time and attention; our relationships also need nurturing, and without time to cultivate these bonds, they wither.

If left unchecked, this imbalance can devolve into a form of tyranny. The employee, who initially agreed to exchange time for money, gradually loses autonomy and becomes a pawn in a larger system, driven by forces beyond their control. The subtle shift begins when we accept the increasing encroachment of work into personal life as the norm. What starts as an occasional sacrifice—working late or over the weekend—soon becomes expected behaviour. Employers, consciously or not, begin to push for more, knowing that workers are often too burdened by financial and social pressures to resist.

In such a relationship, the employee's sense of agency diminishes over time. They are no longer in control of their work-life balance, and the boundaries between personal and professional life blur. What should be a fair exchange of time for wages becomes a form of exploitation, where the worker's personal life is consumed by the insatiable demands of labour. The more work takes precedence, the less time is left for activities that provide meaning and joy outside of the workplace. Leisure, rest, and even the simple act of being present with loved ones are sacrificed on the altar of productivity.

This growing subordination of personal life to work leads to a kind of existential crisis. We find ourselves asking: for what purpose are we working so hard? Is the pursuit of professional success worth the personal cost? Are we truly fulfilled by the work we do, or are we merely fulfilling the expectations of a system that values profit over people? These are difficult questions, but they are essential if we are to reclaim the balance between work and leisure, between the demands of labour and the needs of the self.

In conclusion, the need for leisure is not a frivolous luxury but a vital aspect of human existence. It is through leisure that we reconnect with ourselves and others, recharging our mental, emotional, and physical energy. It is in these moments of respite that we can reflect on our lives, our relationships, and our goals. Without adequate time for leisure, we risk becoming cogs in a machine, disconnected from the very things that make life worth living.

To truly live, we must resist the relentless pressure to prioritise work over everything else. By reclaiming our time for personal and family life, we safeguard our autonomy, protect our relationships, and, most importantly, preserve our sense of self. In a world that increasingly values productivity above all, choosing to rest, to spend time with family, and to engage in leisure is, perhaps, the most radical act of all.