I’ve named this substack the 8 to 5 philosopher primarily to emphasize that I write from the perspective of someone who earns a living in the normal way most Americans do; by sitting behind a desk, answering emails, making bad spreadsheets, not understanding how semi-colons work, and often calculating how many more years I have left before I can retire or I’m replaced by AI. Or to put it another way, if you still think the working hours of most Americans are 9 to 5, then you’re not in that group.
This distinguishes me, I believe, from the vast majority of people who address political, philosophical, religious, and cultural issues in the public (both physical and online) square. I have nothing against those people, but I do think they have an outsized voice when we discuss basically anything.
My goal is to piece together what might be considered a coherent philosophy of life for the working man. Not in any systematic way, but in an illative manner. I take that to mean that basically we’ll know it when we see it. Ask a question, and see what seems right based on the convergence of all of our life’s experiences.
Unfortunately for me, I majored in Philosophy in college, had a religious conversion, lost the religion (but not the interest in the religion), and became an accountant. I also have a brood of children, a mortgage, a shrinking budget due to inflation, and live in a small town with high crime. And I would love a worldview suitable to that life. One that doesn’t require 40 acres and chickens, or social media, or a six figure salary.
It might be a very small audience who would care about such a philosophy. After all, the ones who make spreadsheets and don’t want to think about much else have plenty of options to avoid an existential crisis. Sports, Dancing with the Stars, alcohol. I’m a fan of all three. And many of those people are extremely content or have found their purpose in religion, social clubs, money, etc.
I hope to even examine these options as well and ask whether they indeed are the best lives to live.
To that end I will lay out the basic problem (as I see it), a few of the answers to those questions (as examples). Each of those answers should/will be a blog unto itself, but I want to set the stage for what you can expect. Along the way I hope to get feedback from my (millions of) readers and maybe, if I’m lucky, get to speak with some people who might have valuable insights.
The Question
I’m no Aquinas, but his method isn’t a bad one to emulate. Though I think I’ll copy Walker Percy and state the question several different ways, each followed by a possible (tongue-in-cheek) answer we might explore in a later post in a far more serious manner.
Can someone who doesn’t want their job to be the most meaningful thing in their life, but who still has to commit the vast majority of their waking hours and brain space to such a job, still be happy, satisfied, and content?
It would seem it is not possible. Instead, following St. Josemaria Escriva, one should accept their job as their primary vocation in life and find a way of sanctifying the world through their work. And preferably find a cool job like investment banking or engineering that people will be impressed with, therefore allowing you to convert them to Christianity through its coolness and impressiveness.
If someone’s children are vastly more important to them than their career, but they have to devote far more time and effort into the thing they don’t really care about to be able to buy Taco Bell for the thing they do, can they still lie on their death bed and feel like they didn’t waste their life?
It would be better to never have children, thus ending the conflict between your job and your progeny.
If I live on .25 acres of land, in a house that would break pintrest, with no chickens or garden, and I’m overweight, am I able to enter the Kingdom of Heaven?
Verily I say unto you, unless your diet is Keto and your egg yolks are farm fresh you shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. It would be easier for a man with a Crossfit membership to pass through the eye of a needle than for a Walmart shopper to enter through God’s gates.
If I own 4,000 books but don’t have the attention span to read any of them and feel guilty for staying up late to try because it makes me irritable towards my family since I never get enough sleep since I have to be up at 7 am to get to my boring job that isn’t the most meaningful thing in my life, and it seems I’d be a better father and husband if I had no academic interests or curiosity, and since I usually just end up watching Youtube videos, should I even attempt to employ my leisure time to read?
From an economic standpoint those are wasted hours. If your opportunity cost for missing out on quality time with your children is higher than your cost of not having read about the Napoleonic Wars, and if reading about the Napoleonic Wars makes you more likely to miss out on non-exhausted time with your children, then you should absolutely never read another book again.
If reading is no longer a valuable or viable activity, should I instead employ my free time to side-hustles? Should I live for the grind?
The grind is what makes you a man. An alpha hustles because an alpha wants to eat. Sleep when you’re dead.
What if I think sports are a dumb, cult-like activity we participate in to fill the void in our being that religion used to occupy, yet I find it keeps my mind at peace, gives me something to care about that isn’t apocalyptic, and opens up communal networks that are way less contentious than those offered by political factions and religious bodies?
All things in moderation. Sports, like movies, can be part of a balanced approach to life, but should always be viewed as mere entertainment.
Etc. etc. So if those questions are ones you ever find yourself thinking, and you want to read thoughts on those questions from someone who doesn’t make a living as an academic, public intellectual/commentator, politician, pastor, priest, monk, nun, mommy blogger, or podcaster, then please subscribe so that maybe one day I can join their ranks!
As another person employed in accounting with a brood of children, who chose the job as a means to a paycheck and not as a life-filling career, suffers through it to buy said kids Wendy's, hasn’t finished a book since those first few weeks of COVID when work was temporarily quiet and schools were on hiatus, but finds sports to be a cult-like waste of time with no redeeming quality, I salute you in your efforts.