Several years ago, early in the era of reality television, the Fox television network introduced a show called “The Simple Life.” It featured wealthy heiresses Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie traveling around the country and engaging in, well, the simple life. Paris and Nicole participated in a variety of tasks from farming to fast food work. There was an underlying premise that these jobs were “beneath” our nation’s pseudo aristocracy that we call “celebrities.” Nonetheless whether it intended to or not, it also revealed the value of these jobs and the value of simplicity.
We have lives of complexity and clutter. Our daily tools are now utterly useless if their internal computer fails, be it a telephone or automobile. The newest generation of appliances are deemed “smart” with internet connectivity and advanced options. The smart fridge is a far cry from the “icebox” of a few generations back. This complexity and clutter has its merits (you need only plug in your fridge, not continuously purchase blocks of ice), but it also weighs us down and stresses us out.
Pete McBride is a stunningly talented photographer, filmmaker, and writer. In 2022, he released the book “Seeing Silence: The Beauty of the World’s Most Quiet Places.” He discussed this project on the Mountain and Prairie podcast, with a sobering discussion of the proliferation of noise in our world. During the COVID—19 shutdown of 2020, the decline of human noise became palpable in the wild, and so did the positive impacts on wildlife. Outside of a global pandemic, it is almost impossible to free yourself of human sound. Don’t believe me? Sit inside your ostensibly “quiet” house and you hear the hum of electric appliances. Go outside, even in the “country” and see how long it takes to hear a passing automobile, a jet flying overhead, or clanking machinery in the distance. In wild places that enjoyed fifteen minutes of uninterrupted silence just a few years ago, it is very difficult to experience only five minutes of silence today. Our systems are so calibrated to the idea of “background noise” that we almost feel compelled to turn on a television or play some music when we’re in the quiet at home or in the office.
Amidst the clutter and noise, we yearn for something different. When did you ever hear someone aspire to be busier, have more clutter in life, or have more noise? We don’t. We long to get through those phases of life, telling ourselves that it will be worth it afterwards. We’re busy now to relax later. We suck it up and accept it because it is part of a “modern life” or whatever phrase you use. Must it be, though? Why do we have to enjoy life “later”? What if we are too tired to fully enjoy it later? What it if wasn’t worth it? What if later never comes?
I am over the complexity, the clutter, and the noise. I am over sucking it up and dealing with it. My wife suggests that I have hoarder tendencies, so she might question whether I’m over the clutter, but in the aftermath of our housefire and unexpected home renovation in 2022, we have worked to reduce the unnecessary “stuff” in our life. It is an ongoing project, probably a lifetime one, but the results have been very freeing.
My idea of “counterculture” relates to a deep feeling that we as humans are not meant to live in the ways that we are conditioned to accept. The inertia of societal, economic, and technological forces have pushed us to a place that is not healthy, physically or mentally. In his book research, Pete McBride found that the proliferation of noise has tangible impacts on physical health. We need only look at the news to see that we are not mentally healthy. We need something different. We are in a man-made trap of complexity, clutter, and noise.
We are not trapped. This is a choice. This might sound glum, but it’s not. I have discovered how much in life just really does not matter. We need the fundamental provisions of food, water, shelter, and clothing. We need healthy connection with other humans. Beyond that? There’s a whole lot of life that is optional and negotiable, even if we’re conditioned to believe otherwise. There is no perfect, stress-free life, but we can absolutely pursue quiet and simplicity.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have weeds to hoe in the okra patch.
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the West of 98 website and podcast. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com and subscribe to West of 98 wherever podcasts are found.
thanks for the Mountain and Prairie recommendation!