“Hi, Alina! I hope you had a productive weekend!” was the opening line of an email that, to me, encapsulated a whole misguided philosophy of life.
No, I hadn’t had a productive weekend at all. I spent Saturday with friends I hadn’t seen since their children were babies; now, lo and behold, they’re in school. We laughed, cried, ate whatever we wanted, and slept to our hearts’ content, from 10 pm to 7 am. On Sunday, I spent time with my family, and apart from making some basic sour soup, I didn’t actually “produce” anything. We talked, laughed at our imperfect lives, made small plans, and shared memories. It wasn’t productive at all, but it was so good!
Of course, Monday came and my responsibilities crowded my mind from the moment I opened my eyes and saw the sun’s rays through the blinds. But it was so nice to have a weekend where nothing in my life was related to what actually comes out of my hands! And who or what infected us with this “productivity” that even contaminates the little rest we manage to plan?
Economic roots
The most obvious culprit is probably the type of economy in which we live: one based on productivity and speed because these ensure a competitive advantage and, implicitly, increased profitability. But it wasn’t always like this. Before the Industrial Revolution, people’s lives were lived in cycles, largely synchronised with the rhythms of nature and the seasons. Activities were seasonal, and men and women worked side by side on the farm. Industrialisation brought the factory schedule and modern concepts such as efficiency and measurable results. It also gave rise to the idea that “time is money”.
Scientific management, as conceived by Frederick Taylor at the end of the 19th century, meant that productivity became the measure of success. Since then, capitalist economies have continued to rely on continuous growth, with productivity remaining the main mechanism by which businesses maximise their profits and nations measure their prosperity. It is no coincidence that we talk about gross domestic product. Productivity has cemented its status as a synonym for progress for many societies, both individually and collectively.
Cultural aspects
The popularity of productivity also has cultural and moral dimensions. The sociologist Max Weber famously linked capitalism to Protestant religious values, which included the virtues of diligence and efficiency. For the first time, productivity emerged as a spiritual duty. This mentality has survived to this day, with productivity still being equated with reliability, responsibility, and professionalism even in secular contexts. Culturally, when someone produces something, whether it is art, work, or any kind of intellectual contribution, they derive personal value from that product. This is how “being busy” has become a symbol of individual importance. Social media has only exacerbated this glorification of busyness.
Psychological layer
There are also several psychological factors that push us towards placing a higher value on productivity. The need for control and purpose makes us cling to completing tasks as evidence of our progress and competence. Productivity gives us a sense of personal power, which is reinforced as we achieve goals and acts almost like addictive behaviour. We like to feel that we are the agents of our own existence. At the opposite end of the motivational spectrum is the fear of irrelevance, which can motivate us to be productive in order to protect ourselves from failure, exclusion from social circles, or even job loss. Although this motivation is negative, the psychological drivers behind it are very powerful in idolising productivity.
Existential premises
Equally powerful, yet perhaps easiest to ignore, are the existential or philosophical underpinnings of the issue. People instinctively seek meaning in things, and creation and contribution are ways in which we approach that meaning. Productivity is often seen as a way to leave something behind, to make our mark on the world and build something that will outlive us. Similarly, productivity can be a means of avoiding existential emptiness; a way of passing the time so that individuals do not have to confront unsettling questions about life’s meaning and morality. In such a context, productivity becomes a distraction from existential angst.
Productivity and identity often complement each other in a dangerous dance, where excess can lead to psychological and spiritual collapse. Burnout, with its characteristic physical exhaustion, is often accompanied by apathy and abulia.
Countercultural dimensions
Faith gives us a moral compass, which is very important because without it, work could become a spiritually corrupting factor. Christianity is countercultural in this respect, as I wrote in a previous article, because it establishes God’s love for humanity as the basis for identity. This establishes the measure of human value, as humans are valuable because they are desired and loved by the Creator.
John Swinton, a Scottish theologian and the Chair in Divinity and Religious Studies at the School of Divinity, History, and Philosophy, University of Aberdeen, where he founded a Centre for Spirituality, Health and Disability, is a proponent of the idea that our human dignity precedes any activity we may undertake and is rooted in our likeness to God. Swinton says that deviating from this belief leads to the “instrumentalisation” of humanity, whereby its value is calculated in terms of what it produces. The theologian emphasised that this is not the way to weigh things in the Kingdom of God: “Everything that lives lives because God’s breath is within it. We are all held in our existence by the very breath of God. The only thing that seems to mark us out as different [to animals] is that God decides to talk to Adam. So, the image of God is God’s gift to Adam of God’s relationship to Adam. That’s what makes human beings different. Not their physical or psychological [aspects], just the fact that God just loves people and speaks to people. And nothing ever changes that. Paul talks about the idea that ‘nothing can separate us from the love of God.’ He doesn’t feel in brackets: ‘except for this, except for that.’ Nothing can separate [us from His love].”
The theologian recalled that, from the beginning, humans have been responsible for caring for the world created by God. In the cycle of life, this duty puts humans in a position where they both offer and receive care from others. This state of affairs does not diminish human value; it is simply one of the ways of being in the world. Swinton, whose contributions to discussions on disability are often inspiring, has also addressed the issue of the devaluation of lifestyles that differ from the norm: “Why is it that we assume that certain ways of being in the world are a waste of time?” he asked.
Spiritual performance
Unfortunately, Christian vocabulary also has spiritualised synonyms for productivity. The pinnacle of the manifestation of these synonyms is legalism, which we recognise in clichés such as: “God helps those who help themselves,” and “Pray as though everything depended on God; work as though everything depended on you”. Such phrases imply a theology of personal effort, where grace is seen as something that must be activated through spiritual performance and faith becomes a kind of bilateral contract: God gives, but only if we fulfil our part correctly.
With this mindset, spiritual disciplines become akin to corporate performance indicators. Rather than opening our souls to God, they become personal duties and mandatory tasks, either performed out of fear (“What if God is not satisfied with my efforts?”) or pride (“I deserve to be blessed and for nothing bad to happen to me because I am a good Christian”). The image of God becomes distorted into that of a cosmic leader, and salvation becomes a project of self-improvement.
The ethics of spiritual productivity bring spiritual fatigue, constant guilt, and an inability to enjoy God’s presence without feeling the need to do something to deserve it. This is a chronic restlessness, radically opposed to the rest promised by Christ: “Come to me… and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
Rest as a testimony of faith
To genuinely recover grace in our spiritual lives, we must give up these spiritualised synonyms for productivity and adopt a different vocabulary in which gift, rest, and relationship are fundamental concepts. Perhaps the most countercultural testimony a Christian can offer today is not spiritual hyperactivity, but embracing rest as an act of faith. This conveys the idea that the world does not ultimately depend on our work. The greater reality is that in the Kingdom of God, the only measure of things is the immeasurable love of the Creator.
