Recently, I stumbled upon a YouTube shopping haul from around 2010, now shared on TikTok, a platform known for its rapid content. One of the most popular comments on the video read, "I can't believe we once thought these videos were fast-paced."

While the video is indeed quick, when contrasted with today’s 15-second TikToks or even shorter clips that flash images before our eyes, it feels slow. Currently, TikTok videos average between 35 to 55 seconds, whereas just a few years ago, in 2017, the typical YouTube video ran about 15 minutes, now reduced to just over 11 minutes. YouTube has even introduced a segment for videos lasting under a minute, known as YouTube Shorts.

It appears that everything around us is accelerating, doesn’t it? Numerous apps and websites condense entire books into digestible summaries that can be consumed in minutes. Social media and Spotify are brimming with sped-up renditions of popular songs. Television shows, advertisements, and movie scenes are all becoming shorter. Add to that the fast fashion industry producing new styles almost hourly and same-day delivery options, which compress waiting times into mere hours, and the picture becomes clear.

Our modern world is characterized by speed, bite-sized content, and immediate satisfaction, leaving little space for contemplation or depth.

Perhaps this is precisely what we desire.

But if so, why is that the case? Is it truly beneficial?

When my partner expressed the need to visit his hometown of Milan for a few days in August, I eagerly asked to join. He cautioned me that the city would be nearly deserted during that time, and indeed it was.

Most restaurants, shops, bakeries, and other businesses shut down for the entire month. Beyond a few tourist attractions like the Duomo and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, the streets felt as empty during the day as they do at midnight.

In Italy, similar to many regions in Europe, August is a month for workers to take a break. This phenomenon, sometimes labeled 'Euro Laziness,' originated in the early 20th century, particularly during the interwar years. Historian Gary Cross elaborates:

> "The holiday-with-pay reflected a consensus that the modern world necessitated compensatory leisure to 'recover' lost values of family and community."

However, this isn't universally applicable. The tranquility of Milan in August sharply contrasts with the ceaseless hustle of London, where we reside. Here, time seems to perpetually race ahead. Even now, most of my friends continue to work, perhaps only pausing for the bank holiday at the month's end.

Moreover, the concept of 'Euro Laziness' is largely absent in many parts of the globe, particularly in the United States. Just before my trip to Italy, I asked my brother, who has spent most of the last two decades in the U.S., if he intended to take any time off this summer. His typical response was 'no.' I often feel as if I've 'lost' my brother to a culture of overwork. He doesn't necessarily agree with it; he just feels he lacks options.

It seems absurd that one of the wealthiest nations does not mandate paid vacation days, forcing millions of Americans to work for years without a break. While many countries worldwide require paid time off, whether individuals can actually take and enjoy this time is another issue entirely.

A recent report from Expedia revealed that nearly two-thirds of workers globally are 'vacation deprived,' with Generation Z feeling the brunt of this deprivation. In the UK, while only 38% of Baby Boomers feel shortchanged in vacation time, 70% of the youngest workforce claims to be deprived of sufficient time off. Even in France, where taking vacations is almost a national pastime, young workers face similar struggles. The report further indicated that Americans are now experiencing unprecedented levels of vacation deprivation, with 53% of them not planning to utilize their limited days off, citing 'too busy' as a primary reason.

Leisure time has also been in decline. According to OECD data, the average time spent on leisure activities has decreased since the 1980s. Concurrently, the number of individuals experiencing 'time poverty,' defined as spending less than 60% of the median on leisure and restorative activities, has significantly risen since 2000. Notably, men enjoy more leisure time than women, largely due to the disproportionate unpaid domestic and caregiving responsibilities still expected of women.

Even the little leisure time we manage to carve out tends to be 'leaky,' as described by Derek Thompson, due to increasingly blurred lines between work and play. A recently identified psychological trend known as 'bedtime procrastination' illustrates this issue: people delay sleep to squeeze in leisure activities that were missed during the day.

Clearly, this isn't just a matter of perception.

We are indeed pressed for time, especially when it comes to proper rest.

However, another shift is occurring alongside this reality.

Since reading David Cain’s essay "Your Lifestyle Has Already Been Designed," this quote has lingered in my mind:

> "But the 8-hour workday is too profitable for big business, not because of the amount of work people get done in eight hours (…) but because it makes for such a purchase-happy public. Keeping free time scarce means people pay a lot more for convenience, gratification, and any other relief they can buy. It keeps them watching television, and its commercials. It keeps them unambitious outside of work."

When I shared this quote recently, it resonated with many people. It's clear that many of us are starting to realize that the standard 40-hour (or more) workweek leaves scant time for life itself—especially for those commuting, living alone or with another full-time worker, and raising children. Conversely, those like me who have transitioned to freelance work often find that the flexibility to work less, even at the expense of lower earnings, allows for a reduction in previously considered necessities.

Alongside increased spending and rampant consumerism, the scarcity of free time and the emphasis on productivity compel us to maximize our limited moments of leisure. Economists have begun referring to this trend as 'the intensification of the value of our leisure time.'

When downtime is a rare commodity, it’s tempting to fill it with as much as we can. While scrolling through an endless array of fast-paced entertainment or the latest shiny products may not be deemed a 'productive' use of our time, it can feel that way. After all, we are 'consuming' a vast amount in a short period.

But can we genuinely process all that we see, hear, or read?

Does this truly help us unwind and enrich our lives, or does it leave us perpetually yearning for something more, with a nagging sense of incompleteness?

I’ve previously discussed the evidence that information overload can lead to emotional exhaustion, burnout, and diminished decision-making abilities, sometimes with significant consequences. Furthermore, much of what we consume tends to be of lower quality, a trend likely to worsen with the rise of AI-generated content.

It's also apparent that neglecting to allocate time for proper slowing down—whether due to inability or unwillingness—will eventually catch up with us. Extensive research indicates that prioritizing high-quality rest and taking frequent breaks—not just once a year—is a necessity for maintaining our mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

Yet, it is becoming increasingly regarded as a luxury, isn't it?

In the 17th century, transatlantic voyages took more than 60 days. Sending letters via pigeon or horseback was faster but still took days or weeks.

For many, it’s hard to visualize a world where traveling to another continent took months or where communication required days or even weeks. Technological advancements have minimized distances and time in nearly every aspect of life, allowing for an unprecedented flow of people, goods, and information. While this has brought many benefits, it has also introduced drawbacks.

Existing in a 24/7 world, where everything moves at breakneck speed without pauses, does not seem conducive to savoring and appreciating our brief time on this planet.

Isn't that what makes us human?

Historically, particularly before the Industrial Revolution, humans likely spent the majority of their time on leisure activities—doing what they loved, being creative, connecting with others, and simply lingering.

The frantic pace of contemporary life is not only unique in history; it transforms us into unusually unique humans who seldom slow down and rush through experiences that may deserve more time. Is it truly better to skim through summaries of numerous books rather than immersing oneself in a single book from start to finish? To endlessly scroll through a whirlwind of social media images instead of enjoying a park stroll or sharing tea with a friend?

When speeding along, everything outside blurs into an indistinct mix of colors and shapes. It's only by slowing down that the details come into focus, allowing us to appreciate our surroundings.

It's no wonder that many of us find it easier to follow the fast-paced rhythm of our reality, leading to feelings of vacation deprivation, time scarcity, and burnout. All the technological advancements once thought to reduce the workweek to as little as 15 hours, as economist John Maynard Keynes anticipated, have not resulted in more leisure for most. Instead, modern technology, combined with the absurdities of the 'hustle and grind' culture and capitalism's relentless growth pursuit, has made it feel wrong or impossible to slow down.

Regrettably, the scarcity of free time also means that many lack the mental energy and will to comprehend why this situation exists and how we might alter it.

Nevertheless, we must strive to remember what makes life truly worthwhile.

It's certainly more than just surviving each day.

Acknowledging that the world pushes us to accelerate is merely the first step. Stepping off this speeding carousel presents an entirely different challenge, one that feels unattainable for many without systemic changes such as shorter workweeks and ample paid time off.

Leisure and rest should never be seen as privileges or luxuries.

They are fundamental human rights.

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