In the world of politics, it’s rarely a good idea to do nothing. How could you when there are such pressing issues to address? But Jenny Odell’s book, “How to Do Nothing,” contrary to the title, is neither a how-to guide nor a suggestion that we do nothing. Instead, she offers a compelling case that resisting the urge to act rashly or constantly make progress can actually be the greatest catalyst for change.
“How to Do Nothing” reflects on how the modern economy, which capitalizes on our attention, has conditioned us to prioritize sometimes needless productivity over introspection. It inspires a call to action for individuals hoping to reclaim their autonomy and reimagine their relationship with the world around them. “I would be surprised,” Odell says, “if anyone who bought this book actually wants to do nothing. Only the most nihilist and coldhearted of us feels that there is nothing to be done.”
The book itself acts as a case study of what Odell means by doing nothing — “to hold yourself still so that you can perceive what is actually there.” Odell explains that she finds “existing things infinitely more interesting than anything I could possibly make,” and she stays true to her word. By drawing from a wide variety of sources, including indigenous philosophy, contemporary art, and numerous books and essays, she pieces together the collage that is “How to Do Nothing.” Each section brings something new, and there is something for a wide variety of audiences to connect with, ranging from activists and artists to those in the tech and business world.
For those of us who feel the urgency of social action, calling for less productivity may seem confusing. Odell provides an example: In 2015, San Clemente decided to remove a dam that had stood for over 100 years and restore the natural habitat. This demolition did not provide instant gratification but was rather a slow and arduous process of dismantling the dam and putting the environment back together piece by piece. Odell argues that perceptions of this decision as regressive destruction have it all wrong. What if, instead, the construction of the dam was seen as destruction of the ecosystem? Viewing land as a blank slate for development is often blocking the way for the more careful remediation that should really be happening. In approaching such a project with intention and forethought, the city was able to restore a lost habitat.
Similarly, Odell lauds intentional civil disobedience. To explain this, she tells the story of Diogenes, a fourth-century Greek philosopher who aimed to shock people out of their mindless habits through public displays of refusal. He claimed that, although many of his actions may have seemed insane to a passerby, any “sane” person is insane for continuing to uphold systems and standards that perpetuate the world’s wrongs. Following politics can lead to despair, and it can be tempting to leave it all behind. But Diogenes demonstrates that there are ways to participate in the world that challenge the systems in power. Although sometimes difficult, he shows that we must continue to invest ourselves in working towards a more just world.
Jumping forward to the 1934 West Coast Waterfront Strike, Odell provides a more modern example of refusing injustice. Subject to the whims of their bosses and the economy at large, longshoremen created the International Longshoremen’s Association and began to build up workers’ power. Their determination ultimately inspired 150,000 people to walk off the job. This refusal to assimilate and belief in the power of community is still applicable to today’s politics, with ongoing wage debates and union struggles. We must learn from the activists of the past in order to be successful in the modern-day fight for labor rights.
Odell sees social media as an important aspect of this modern collective action. She explains that social media platforms are a way for people to communally share what they believe is important without regulation. So why has it become so difficult to focus and connect with others? Odell argues that “context collapse,” the need to appeal to a wide-ranging audience without background information, is what has ruined these platforms, particularly for political discussion. Further, the engineering of our attention has made these platforms incredibly addictive. She recommends that we work on returning to the one-on-one conversations, closed group chats and meetings, and slow speed communication that political activists have continually found to be the most effective throughout history.
Despite her argument, Odell admits that this way of doing nothing is not accessible to everyone. She acknowledges that it is a privilege to be able to sit still, listen to the birds, and spend hours admiring contemporary art. Many of us have to act without much time for contemplation, and this isn’t always a bad thing. But at the end of the day, the book is not one about retreat from the world, which is what makes it so accessible.
Odell asserts that we must approach today’s most pressing issues, from technological advancement to climate change, with purpose. Yet in order to do this, the book teaches that we must learn to appreciate indigenous environmental wisdom, philosophical and artistic models of civil disobedience, organizing strategies of historical movements, and the power of our community. Ultimately, “How to Do Nothing” is a call to stop doing something just to do something and, instead, to understand what has already been done and where we can go from there. Odell concludes, “if we have only so much attention to give, and only so much time on this earth, we might want to think about reinfusing our attention and our communication with the intention that both deserve.”
