I used to teach in a boys’ boarding school in France, run by a fundamentalist order of Catholics-More-Catholic-Than-The-Pope. The boys were sullen and unhappy, but usually compliant with the routine of a place run by well-meaning homosexuals and decrepit nuns.
One remark from the boys that comes to mind was that the French word for work (travail) is related to the Vulgar Latin word for torture (tripaliare). This is entirely true; the same word also gives us the English word ‘travel’. Airports, indeed, are hell. I had praised work in the hope of getting them to strive more. This may have worked. The somewhat Epicurean priest-headmaster, who rarely seemed to work or teach, acknowledged that the boys did indeed work hard. One fruit of my education was to learn the art of extracting work from others. My education, in one sense, made me an effective torturer.
The boys’ attitude to work was entirely healthy. Work, historically, has been seen as a regrettable necessity, a curse from God (in Biblical terms) for the sin of Adam and Eve. Yet what was once a practical necessity for peasants and serfs has now become a measure of status and even morality. The Calvinist work ethic, or at least the appearance thereof, has spread far beyond the unlovely Calvinists.
Working to earn a living is, alas, both natural and necessary for most. Yet it should be confined within its bounds as much as possible. Reducing what one needs to live well (this does not mean living on the bare necessities, but merely living without unnecessary luxury) helps to confine work to its necessary bounds. Likewise, some work is more agreeable than others. Our simple aim is to make work as bearable and as brief as possible. The thumb screws are better than the rack!