Why Don't You Get Back Into Bed?

Apropos of nothing, I was reminded today of one of those stupid "motivational" quotes that you get in some offices in some vain attempt to get us to work harder. It read "There is no happiness except in the realisation that we have accomplished something", said by Henry Ford. To which my reaction would be "bollocks".

Leaving aside Hank's obnoxious views of certain parts of society, it doesn't seem too much of a stretch to see why he'd say such a thing. A rampant capitalist, to the degree he felt world peace would be best achieved by the increase of consumerism, it was in his interests to ensure people felt a sense of achievement - probably by either building a load of Model Ts or working hard enough so that they could afford to buy one.

So, in response, I would like to put forward the idea that happiness can be reached through the simplicity of doing very little, if anything at all. As a chap who freely admits to being something of an idle sod at the best of times, I can quite happily spend an entire day in bed doing sweet FA and feel very good from it. Indeed, I think the need to have time doing jack shit is greatly underestimated in our modern society.

My slacking hero was my grandfather, a man who spent far too much of his life working three miles under the sea digging coal from the earth. Naturally, when he was laid off he elected to chill out for a while and spent the subsequent 30 years of his enforced retirement lying on the sofa, reading the racing form and wondering who to back for the 3.15 at Doncaster. This, to me, seemed a somewhat idyllic way of life, despite my having no love of gambling.

Not that there isn't much to be found from a sense of achievement, it's just that I never seem to find it in the world of paid employment. I'll feel good when I write a song, when I finish a book or even when I finish writing this here article. In fact, I'll probably have me a celebratory beer when I get to the end (now there's motivation...) but I've rarely felt it from whatever counts as actual work. I clock in, do the gig as required, clock out. Some of us get to do jobs that gift us with a real sense of self-worth, most of us just get through it to ensure we don't spend next Christmas down the Sally Army.

Bertrand Russell had the right idea when he wrote In Praise of Idleness. He was no lazy get, being one of the top thinkers this here island has ever produced and he knew the whole idea of work ethics and joy from work was/is a big con to get us plebs out of bed on a rainy winter's morn. We can only hope that technology can continue to evolve to the point where we're free from the working week to the degree we can all actually have a proper go at getting happy on our own terms.