Wellbeing and Utopias

There's a bit of a fashion for dystopian fiction at the moment, even though reality is currently not only stranger than fiction (as ever) but as dystopian as you could wish for (or not wish for.) I've been very, very, very slowly writing a novel for the past few years and nearly fell into the trap myself of creating an alternative, dystopian world as a backdrop, until I thought it might be more interesting to set part of my novel in a utopian, rather than dystopian world. I'd recently read William Morris's delightful 1890 classic 'News From Nowhere' and decided to extend my research into utopias by re-reading the 'Utopia' (Thomas More's 16th century political satire), which I was supposed to have read forty years ago as part of my English degree!

 'Utopia' is one of those books which I've always meant to read (all these years, I've kept my original Penguin Classics copy from 1979) ...and now I have indeed finished it, slow reader that I am. For a book originally written in Latin and first published in 1516, I was surprised to find it both entertaining and thought-provoking.

To complete my reading on utopias, having sampled 16th century and 19th century versions, I brought things right up to date by trying Rutger Bregman's 2017 book 'Utopia for Realists'. Bregman is a Dutch journalist and author of popular books on history, philosophy, and economics. In 'Utopia for Realists' he makes the case for a more productive and equitable society based on three core ideas - a universal and unconditional basic income for everyone, a working week of fifteen hours, and open borders worldwide with the free exchange of citizens between all nations. Brexit and Covid-19 have somewhat scuppered the last of these, at least for now, but Bregman makes a compelling argument for both a guaranteed basic income and a shorter work week. In an entertaining, polemical style he argues that these are necessary and achievable cornerstones for the sustainability of a modern society and for the health and wellbeing of all its citizens.

Bregman points out that the abolition of slavery, suffrage for women and same-sex marriage were all once considered unrealistic, unreasonable and downright impossible. So, why should it not be perfectly achievable to introduce other seemingly utopian ideas? During the pandemic lockdown in the UK, once a week I observed people - including the Prime Minister - clapping in support of healthcare workers and carers. Despite this very recent and very public show of appreciation, the UK government has recently been highly selective with pay awards for health and social care staff. Generally, the lowest paid public servants - including nurses, allied health professionals and care assistants - have not yet seen that grateful applause converted into a tangible pay increase. How can political leaders so easily ignore those members of society who do the really essential work? How can government so quickly forget the debt they owe to workers who have risked their own lives caring for us and our loved ones, often for a very low salary? Bregman rather colourfully describes this situation in his book; as ever, it seems, "the bankers and the lawyers are polishing turds at the expense of waste collectors and nurses."

Bregman partly blames the 'underdog socialists' for this situation; the disempowered left have failed to make the case for a shift in societal values. He even has a go at liberal, left-wing academia: "the greatest sin of the academic left is that it has become fundamentally aristocratic, writing in bizarre jargon that makes simple matters dizzyingly complex. If you can't explain your ideal to a fairly intelligent twelve-year-old, after all, it's probably your own fault. What we need is a narrative that speaks to millions of ordinary people."

The call for a shorter working week, Bregman explains, is not about wanting long, lethargic weekends but about creating more opportunities to spend time on the things that truly matter to us. In keeping with other writers on wellbeing (including me), Bregman is arguing for more meaningful work and more time for more meaningful activity beyond work. He cites, not another aristocratic academic, but the Australian writer and songwriter Bronnie Ware. In 2011 Ware published a memoir, 'The Top Five Regrets of the Dying', based on what she had learnt from her work caring for people with terminal illness. The greatest regrets expressed by people at the end of their lives were, firstly, "I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me" and, secondly, "I wish I hadn't worked so hard."

It may seem utopian to live a life more true to oneself and to spend less time working hard. Many people, especially in times of recession, put up with jobs which lack rewards, meaning or opportunities for creativity. Of course, a shorter working week and a guaranteed basic income would facilitate these goals and Bregman is right to urge us to give these seemingly utopian ideas, and the societal structures standing in their way, serious attention.

 

Further reading

Bregman, R. (2017) Utopia for Realists: And How We Can Get There. London: Bloomsbury.

More, T. (2012) Utopia. London: Penguin Classics.

Morris, W. (1993) News from Nowhere and Other Writings. London: Penguin Classics.

Ware, B. (2019) The Top Five Regrets of the Dying: A Life Transformed by the Dearly Departing (Second Edition). London:  Hay House.

Blogging, caring, grieving

I started this blog in October 2017, in anticipation of the launch of my book 'Creativity, wellbeing and mental health practice'. The idea was to provide a forum to explore and discuss these inter-related ideas in an ongoing way, with the book as a focal point. The blog was also, to my mind at least, a companion to my other already-established blog Passengers in Time, which has now been running for ten years. If the 'Tony Gillam' blog was meant to be serious - even scholarly at times - Passengers in Time was always meant to be free-spirited and light-hearted, hence its tag-line "...Adventures with books, music and time travel." If you like, the 'Tony Gillam' blog was the respectable, high-minded blog while Passengers in Time was its fun-loving, slightly wild older brother. Passengers in Time covered a variety of topics from books that I'd been reading to books that I'd been writing, and from music I'd been listening to, to occasionally music I'd been making. Alongside these adventures with books and music has been a third thread - 'time travel', by which I suppose I've meant a blend of reminiscences, social history and real-life travel. These posts were often written in a voice that suggested they were accounts of solitary adventures but, in reality, through all of these experiences I'd been accompanied by my dear travelling companion - my beloved wife Sue.    

In October 2018, I wrote a post here on this blog called 'Working at being of good cheer again'. I explained that the summer had been a blur, "with my wife becoming unwell in July, her being diagnosed with a serious illness and then spending most of August in hospital 49 miles away." I went on to say, "She is now thankfully at home with me, but needing ongoing support and treatment." In fact, Sue had been diagnosed with a brain tumour. Thankfully, she enjoyed reasonably good health through much of 2019, and I muddled on with my occasional blog posts celebrating creativity and wellbeing, although the shadow of Sue's illness of course continued to have a significant effect on her wellbeing and that of the whole family.   

At the beginning of this year Sue's health deteriorated so that, by the time the coronavirus pandemic had forced everyone into lock-down, Sue and I had already stopped going out and about. Sue was too poorly to go anywhere and I had become a full-time carer. And then, on 25 June, Sue passed away. 

The things that normally console, comfort, energise and enthuse me: reading, listening to music, writing, songwriting and blogging, all feel like an effort at the moment, but I know they still hold the power to sustain and renew me. You may wonder why I've written such a personal blog post. Well, it's partly to explain why my posts have been even less frequent than usual. But, more importantly, it's because it would have been disingenuous, assuming I was still able to muster the ideas and enthusiasm, to go on writing blog posts about creativity and wellbeing without acknowledging the loss of Sue - something that, of course, has had a major impact on my own wellbeing. 

Sue was always very proud of my writing and I'm sure she would have wanted me to continue, so I'm going to try to go on with my blogging and other writing activities. After all, I should practice what I preach; if I believe (as I do) that writing can help promote wellbeing then, after my own recent experience of care-giving and bereavement, now is not the time for me to give up writing! So bear with me and slowly, surely, I hope to be able to continue to share with you ideas and insights that can help us all enjoy a greater sense of wellbeing through creativity.  

In memory of Sue Gillam (1965-2020).