Revisiting Thoreau’s Walden

Every so often, I like to pick up books I haven’t glanced at in a while and lose myself in the words of a sagacious writer. One author I find myself constantly revisiting is Henry David Thoreau—in particular, his book Walden.

Most have probably heard of Thoreau, even though his message of simplicity may sound passé. Nowadays, smartphones inundate us with text messages. Social media bombard us with endless notifications. Many consumers are buying the latest digital devices, from tablets and fitness trackers to commercial drones. Simple living seems to be a thing of the past.

Thoreau would beg to differ. As a writer who professed the value of simplicity almost two centuries ago (he lived from 1817 to 1862), he was a contrarian for his time. He lived during the height of the Industrial Age, distinguished by the rise of gigantic factories, expanding urban developments, and powerful machines such as steam engines.

Turned off by the incessant busyness of this time, Thoreau withdrew from city life to live alone in the woods. He brought with him only the necessities of life and wrote about this adventure in his book Walden.

The meaning of ‘Walden’

Thoreau named his book after his retreat in the woods. As he explains,

Near the end of March, 1845, I borrowed an axe and went down to the woods by Walden Pond, nearest to where I intended to build my house, and began to cut down some tall, arrowy white pines, still in their youth, for timber (p 37).

Walden, however, is more than a place. It’s a symbol of living a meaningful life. Thoreau reveals Walden’s significance beautifully in one of my favorite passages from his book:

I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear (p 82).

Do we control technology or vice versa?

In Walden, Thoreau is basically making a philosophical statement. We are not living deliberate or meaningful lives, thanks (or no thanks) to modern technology. We created powerful machines to make life more convenient. Unfortunately, these machines have done the opposite. In his words,

men have become the tools of their tools (p 34).

That is to say, we are not the ones controlling technology. Technology is controlling us. If that sounds hyperbolic, let me try updating Thoreau’s message with a couple 21st-century examples.

On smartphones and social media

Making life more high-tech can sometimes seep it of meaning. Take smartphones and social media.

Every few minutes, smartphones may distract us with messages. At least half of Americans check their phones several times an hour, according to Gallup.
Meanwhile, information overload from social media can erode our concentration and heighten confusion. Studies show that many can’t distinguish authentic journalism from fake news on platforms like Twitter or Facebook.

When technology causes that much distraction and confusion, it may be healthy to simplify life by curtailing these technological excesses. Personally, I’ve done so in two ways.

First, I use very little data on my phone. For instance, I usually keep it offline (unless, of course, I need to connect to the Internet for an emergency). I also keep the apps on my phone to a minimum (an idea I got from digital minimalism). The vast majority of the time, I only use my phone to call or text.
Second, I quit most social media (see my article “On delete Facebook“). As a result, I’m not distracted by social media notifications, messages, alerts, and other gratuitous forms of information overload.

Sure, those two things aren’t as drastic as Thoreau retreating to the woods. Nevertheless, they’re realistic moves I can make toward living a more meaningful life.

If you’re on the fence about that approach, try an experiment next time you’re out with a friend. See if you can enjoy his or her company without disrupting the conversation by checking your smartphone or social media. That will tell you whether or not you’re living deliberately. To wit, does your technology control you, or are you in control of technology—and, thus, of your own life?

Walden: a repudiation of technological consumerism, but not technology itself!

One final clarification: Thoreau’s message of simplicity isn’t about rejecting all technology—a position known as Luddism. It is, however, a repudiation of technological consumerism, or compulsively buying more technology for the sake of having more technology (what economist Thorstein Veblen called “conspicuous consumption”).

In sum, Walden is a defense, not of Luddism, but of simplicity. It’s about minimizing material distractions to maximize life’s meaning.

Agree or disagree with Thoreau? Feel free to leave a comment below, or check out other Recommended Reading on this site.

References

Thoreau, Henry David. (1950 [1854]). Walden. New York: Doric Books.