The assumption behind utilitarian pragmatism is that human endeavors are only deemed worthwhile if they are useful to the whole, whether that be a company, family or community. In such a world, those who are disabled, those who are oppressed, or those who are without voice are seen as ‘useless’ and disposable. We have a disposable culture that has made usefulness the sole measure of value. This metric declares that the arts are useless. No—the reverse is true. The arts are completely indispensable precisely because they are useless in the utilitarian sense. — Makoto Fujimura

When productivity becomes our highest ideal, we eliminate everything from our lives that isn’t deemed “useful” or “practical.” — Mark Casper

I watch higher education easily diminished because “you don’t get a ‘return’ on what you pay for tuition.” It’s like a spreadsheet for life now.

Yes, college tuition is too high. Things can be done. But to dismiss degrees because they don’t “pay back” what you put in is far too utilitarian. Education is not a zero sum game. I remember a professor I had in college who was asked about his PhD. He had picked a fairly obscure subject for his dissertation and people asked what good that subject was. He replied, “It’s not what I can do with that education. It’s what that education does to me.”

There are things in life that seem like “wastes” by today’s utilitarian standards. Art. Novels. Music.

I am terrible at novels. I like a good mystery or spy thriller. I need a conclusion. In this, I am utilitarian. So, I try to listen more to novels. It has helped tremendously. It has aided me in engaging with books like The Color Purple and The Great Divorce. I have come to really like Nathan Hill’s books because the audio version is so engaging.

My mind is really engaged with a couple of older novels right now: The Sparrow and its sequel, The Children of God. They engage my mind in a different way. There is a bit of science fiction to them as well, and I rarely engage science fiction.

I am engaging fiction more not for what I get out of it, but what it may do to me. The Sparrow, for instance, was a tragic surprise. I was truly undone by the ending. It was shattering. And I needed that reminder. We don’t get happy endings all the time. We get tragedy, and I need to absorb that impact, even in a novel.

Strict utilitarian living is dull. Maybe it gets you a stack of cash at the end of the game, but that’s not the game I want to play. Life is far more full and rich and colorful.

I don’t want a utilitarian faith, either. I don’t pray to “get something” from God. I don’t worship to gain access to God.

I want a lifelong journey of wasting time with God. I learn from him. He teaches me. I learn to hear his voice. I learn to enjoy wandering.

Take in the sunset. Enjoy meandering conversations. Have friends who have political opinions or theological stances you don’t know. You just enjoy being with them.

The affections of Christ are found in the world around us when we stop and observe. Take it in. Rest. Breathe.