What Is Leisure, Really?

What is leisure? The answer seems obvious: it’s what you do when you’re not working. But that’s a negative definition. What is leisure, really? What are its essential characteristics?

An initial response might be that leisure is like rest, something quiet and sedate, like lounging in a hammock, reading or working a crossword puzzle. Maybe leisure is more to do with pace than type of activity, so it could be unhurried activity like gardening too. But what about faster paced pursuits like jogging or water-skiing -- surely those are leisure? If so, why not a trip to the bowling alley, the ballpark, or the racetrack? If so, so much for quiet and sedate.

Further, does the kind of racetrack matter – horse track or NASCAR? How is playing baseball or the piano different for the little leaguer or amateur than it is for the professional major-league player or musician? Which is more leisurely, playing music or listening to it? Is bowling alone (see Putnam, Bowling Alone) leisure, or are teams and leagues required? Were Aristotle and Veblen right to introduce the idea of class into the discussion of leisure, and if so, how does it affect our thoughts? Is the jazz I prefer at low volume on my screen porch any more leisurely than the hard rock my neighbor blasts in his back yard? Though we drink the same brand of beer, is there a leisurely difference between the one I sip on my porch, and the twelve or more my neighbor pounds every weekend? Does brand or expense matter – is my single malt Scotch more or less leisurely than his cheap whiskey? Is a mixed drink more leisurely than a shot? Is drinking wine innately more leisurely than drinking beer or spirits? If so, where does box wine fit in?

The error here – and there is a grievous error – lies in the initial question: what is the essence of leisure. There is no such essence. Leisure is not a category of activity or a particular quality of action or existence. Leisure is where you find it, even at work. It is utility-based; material does not affect it, nor does the nature of the pursuit. What’s leisure for you may not be for me, and vice-versa. It’s that simple. This means that leisure is not the province of any socio-economic class. It is accessible to anyone. Your wine and my beer are equivalent – as they should be, for they are physical substances, and how either one of us appreciates either one of them is decided individually. You don’t get to decide for me, nor I for you. The rub, here, is that we still don’t know what leisure is. In the next post, we’ll define it.