Gordon Brown's inclination to spend his way out of the recession seemed paradoxical—inspiring belt-tightening in many of us and, most recently, in himself too. His government's latest budget has emphasised the need for efficiency savings. But is thrift a virtue—or just a smokescreen for brutal cuts when times turn tough?
The case for thrift has a long pedigree. "Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants," argued Epictetus, a 1st century Stoic. In other words, freed from the desire to acquire, you won't be upset if you lack what others covet. Besides, tying happiness to changeable circumstances is unwise. Base it, instead, on your state of mind, which you yourself control, and calmly accept whatever comes your way.
As Aristotle had already noted, thrift as a virtue hangs awkwardly between profligacy and miserliness; it's constantly at risk of tipping into obsessive spending or neurotic saving. In a recession you can avoid a "latte leak," by refusing to squander hard-earned pennies on inessential gratifications. Yet you may end up miserable and friendless, all for the smug satisfaction of saving £2.05.
This is the danger John Stuart Mill saw in asceticism: relishing austerity for its own sake can be destructive. Something goes wrong, Mill thought, when abstinence becomes the only goal. There will always be those who are willing to wear hairshirts, but, he argued, unless this increases overall happiness, it deserves no more admiration than the actions of Simeon Stylites the Elder, who pointlessly spent 37 years living on top of a pillar.
Public avoidance of pleasure is no model of the good life—and it usually isn't even interesting to watch (think of David Blaine suspended in a box above the Thames). In Mill's wise words, anyone who spends life embracing pain with no payoff for humanity is "an inspiriting proof of what men can do, but assuredly not an example of what they should." Whether Brown's form of austerity is merely pain-inducing or eventually beneficial remains to be seen. If in the worst case it's the equivalent of sitting on a pillar in a hairshirt, stoicism may be our only resort.
