‘Laziness Does Not Exist’: Loyola prof offers persuasive argument
I have good news: You are not lazy. You are not lazy, I am not lazy. The dog that sleeps 20 hours a day is not lazy because the dog actually has the right idea.
Devon Price, a clinical assistant professor at Loyola University’s School of Continuing and Professional Studies, has published “Laziness Does Not Exist” (Atria, $27), which seeks to debunk “the laziness lie.”
It’s a bold claim, and if you’re at all like me and believe laziness must exit, you may bristle at that boldness. Price has seen your objections coming and confronts them clearly (but somehow also gently).
In Price’s formulation, the laziness lie has three core tenets: 1. Your worth is your productivity. 2. You cannot trust your own feelings and limits. 3. There is always more you could be doing.
These principles are reinforced through a society that signals that natural, explicable, even desirable behaviors — rest and relaxation — are instead something to be shunned or ashamed of. If you spend time thinking about all the things you should be doing, rather than recognizing all you’ve done, you’ve been influenced by Price’s laziness lie.
While the exploration in the book is nuanced and thorough, the core of Price’s argument is that much of what we call “laziness” and therefore judge negatively is likely driven by something else, something we should be considering more closely. People who may have a hard time motivating to do anything may be depressed. Apathetic students may not have flawed character, but are responding instead to lessons that are genuinely unengaging. An inability to focus and get things done is more likely due to burnout than a character flaw like “laziness.”
“Laziness” has become a term that allows us to dodge harder questions about the underlying conditions under which we’re working and living. Price came to the topic after a life of relentlessly driving towards success as a student and academic to the point of literal physical collapse.
I see it through a different lens, as a person who was labeled apathetic and a chronic underachiever as a youngster. I thought I was defective because of my inability to dedicate myself to things that were “important” (like school) that didn’t feel important to me. Even though I’m undeniably productive as an adult, I still carry some measure of guilt about the past and wonder if I’m still defective.
My own work as a teacher has taught me the dangers of looking at people through the deficit lens of “laziness.” I recall one of my college students from more than 15
years ago who was constantly behind in his work, showing up to class with redrimmed eyes, falling asleep in class. I was certain this young man was partying excessively, unmotivated and lazy.
In a conference as we talked about the high likelihood of a failing grade, he admitted after much probing that he’d been struggling because his single mother was gravely ill with cancer. He had taken the night shift caring for her at home because they could not afford a 24-hour home health aid.
That moment remains indelible in my mind and shifted my first instinct when dealing with underperforming students. I now ask, “what else could be going wrong?” It is always something other than “laziness.”
Price’s book does not argue that hard work isn’t good or that we are without flaw. Instead, it asks us to go deeper to understand what a world oriented around helping people thrive, rather than dismissing them as lazy, may look like.