Tuesday, May 11, 2004

So, as promised, a post on Utility. Part of the reason I've been procrastinating on this post is that as I've been thinking about the topic I realize I'm using the label of Utility to tie together several modern cans of worms (I'll leave that metaphor for you to sort out!). But nonetheless I think there is a common thread, even if a better label could be used.

By Utility I mean the widespread assumption that any pursuit or activity is justified by its usefulness: usefulness being defined by the thing's ability to make money. A corollary (I think) to this assumption is that everything is (or, at least, should be) marketable and one has a duty to market anything one can. This focus, although rarely put in such simple and crude terms, leaves little room for the pursuit of something for an intangible, unmarketable gain or end. I have repeatedly run into this assumption, especially in the years since I've graduated from college and everyone, from family and friends to total strangers, wants to know what I'm going to "do" with my rather expensive education.

For those of you who might not know, I went to a small, liberal arts college whose curriculum is based on the Great Books of Western Civilization. We start with Homer and the Greek philosophers and playwrights and, in the course of four years, take a whirlwind tour of the philosophy, literature, math, science and music that has shaped the Western World, ending with Einstein and quantum physics. I could go on for quite a while about the program, it's advantages and disadvantages, etc., but for the narrow purposed of this post, all you need to know is that the program is antithetical to this notion of Utility. Most of the students come to the college for immaterial gain: pursuing truth, finding the meaning of life, wrestling with the ideas that have intrigued mankind for many years, becoming more human. These goals are not means to a good (i.e well-paying) job but are ends in themselves. Given this mindset, it's not hard to understand the frustration when we hear, "Wow, that sounds really great, but what are you going to do with an education like that?" What do you mean, what am I going to do with it? Isn't it enough that I did it? Although I'm sure most people wouldn't put it in these words, the underlying question is, "How is that education going to justify itself, how is it going to 'pay off'"? The thing that that question misses is that education does not necessarily have anything to do with a vocation or how you pay the bills.

But education is not the only place I see Utility rearing it's sleek, efficient head. The same assumption has radically changed how we view what were once called leisure activities and the arts. Today many children participate all kinds of classes in music, dance, sports, and many other activities. But those activities, with the exception of sports, find little place in the adult world. Many people, as they get older and this utilitarian mentality creeps in, begin to think something like, "Well, I'm not going to ever be a professional singer, dancer, painter, violinist, so why should I bother if I'm not ever going to 'do' anything with it." As a practical example along these lines, one of my roommates teaches music at the above-mentioned college. She regularly sees students who have an incredible natural talent for singing, but who have little inclination to refine that talent, or whose parents won't support them in any training of that talent. I'm talking about $25 a week voice lessons, not something elaborate or expensive. And the reason for this is, you guessed it, that the student is not planning on "doing" anything with the talent, that is, not making money professionally with the talent.

As another example, a few months ago I was privileged to sing at my friends' wedding, not as a job or as a "professional" but because they're my friends. Just yesterday at work a fellow server asked if I had been the one singing at their wedding. When I said I was she said, "What are you doing here? You could be making a million dollars!" Although I appreciated the compliment the underlying assumption there again was if you had something that could be marketable you had a perverse duty to focus on that thing and market it. I speak of music because that is what I am most familiar with, but I would be surprised if the mentality wasn't the same in other arts: writing, theater, fine arts, etc.

When applied to the arts, this mentality makes art inaccessible to people and more of a sterile, elitist, boring snobbery. In a community where singing, playing music, or writing are a part of everyday life, an especially talented singer, instrumentalist or writer can be all the more admired, not as a god or an idol (American Idol nonsense) but as a truly talented artist. The appreciation would come not only from a pleasurable response to the art but also from a knowledge of how hard it is to play/sing/write well. Today we get our music and entertainment prepackaged and predigested from professionals because God forbid one of us commoners should aspire to tread on such sacred ground.

This might seem like a stretch, but I see this Utilitarian mentality creeping into how we view ourselves and each other. As with education and art, beauty and personality are becoming a commodities as we subscribe to the myth that we are, in actuality, masters of nature and can, through diet, exercise, drugs, dye, and plastic surgery control and normalize how we look, talk and act. Those lucky few that naturally have the body, face or personality that is deemed beautiful find themselves facing the same expectation of "doing" something with that commodity. Hence the comments,"She's so pretty, why doesn't she have a boyfriend? He's such a great person, why isn't he dating anyone?" or, "She has such a great figure, why does she always wear such baggy clothes?" Like I said this might be a bit of a stretch, because in this instance I think there might be more at work than just utilitarian mentality; here might also be an underlying desire for beauty to be seen (revealing a beautiful figure) or rewarded (having a boy/girlfriend). But with the utilitarian mentality pervading so much of today's thought, it's understandable why such talk would be suspicious.

In all of these manifestations I see a flattening of life. We've exalted the means and forgotten about the ends, those things that make the daily grind worthwile and bearable. I've heard that people today have more leisure time than ever before. Yeah, I find this hard to believe too, but imagine what would happen if all those hours spent mindlessly in front of inane sitcoms were spent doing beautiful, enjoyable things.

I'm tempted to end on that note, or worse yet, indulge in some Lennin-like rapsodie about how beautiful the world would be and perhaps someday you'll join us and it'll all be wonderful with rainbows and singing bunny rabbits, but I'll spare you. The problem with talking about this non-Utilitarian approach is that it rapily falls into sentimentalism and cheap cliches: money can't buy everything, there's more to life than a paycheck, etc. I think the sayings have become cliches precisely because we have forgotten what they mean. We've forgotten the real and manly power of beauty and other intangible, unmarketable things and so they're consigned to the same category as those hideous inspirational calendars, Oprah's self help guides and the Chicken Soup for the whatever-ridiculous-category-you-can-think-of Soul books.

As an example of someone who is not subscribing to this mentality, I pesent a friend of mine, Kirsten. Kirsten is a wonderful singer who has trained and sung professionally and, if she chose, could have a very successful career as a professional singer. But she lives here in Santa Fe, raises her daughter, keeps a luscious garden (a real accomplishment in Santa Fe) and gives voice lessons. In the eyes of Utility it's just hippie nonsense to think that living a simple, if beautiful life, can make up for not pursuing a successful career if one is able. But by making that choice Kirsten has given Santa Fe many small beautiful moments it would not have otherwise had. For example I've been working with her for a couple years now, fighting this Utilitarian mindset all the way. She worked with me for months on the songs I sang for my friends' wedding. If it hadn't been for her, that singing would not have been as good as it could have been and that wedding would have had a little less color and beauty than it had. Small, yes, I said small moments of beauty, but that doesn't make them less important. My friends could have played a CD of a professional singer singing the same songs, but even though the quality of singing would have been much better, it would have made for a less colorful, less memorable event. And that's only one example of who knows how many?

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