Henry David Thoreau

My husband and I make good money but we're constantly stressed about it. We have a nice house with a big mortgage. Two cars with payments. Subscriptions to everything. We eat out three times a week because we're too tired to cook. I've been reading about minimalism and feel called to simplify—sell the house, move to something smaller, cook at home, reduce consumption. My husband thinks I'm being extreme. He says we've "earned" our lifestyle and the answer is just to make more money. But here's the thing: when I imagine a simpler life, I imagine it being boring. I love trying new restaurants. I love hosting dinner parties. I love having nice things. Can you be a minimalist and still enjoy the pleasures of life? — Too Much of Everything in Minneapolis

90 votes

I'm earning $180,000 a year as a product manager at a tech startup in Austin. On paper, my life looks great. In reality, I work 60+ hours a week, haven't taken a real vacation in three years, and had a panic attack in my car before a board presentation last month. My husband and I just inherited a small farmhouse in Vermont from his grandmother. It needs work, but it's paid off. Part of me fantasizes about quitting everything, moving there, and starting a small CSA farm. I've been reading about permaculture. We have enough savings to last 18 months. My parents think I'm having a breakdown. My boss says I'm "on track for VP" if I stick it out two more years. My husband says he'll support whatever I decide, which somehow makes it harder. I know the "smart" move is probably to stay, pay off student loans faster, and max out retirement. But I wake up every morning dreading my inbox. Is this a mid-life crisis I'll regret, or should I trust this pull toward a simpler life? — Burned Out in Austin

93 votes

I work for a company developing carbon capture technology. We believe we can reverse climate change through engineering—massive machines that pull CO2 from the atmosphere. If we scale successfully, we might save civilization. My neighbor is a permaculture farmer. He thinks we're insane. "You can't engineer your way out of a crisis caused by engineering," he says. "The answer isn't more technology—it's less consumption, smaller lives, returning to the land." He's not wrong that our lifestyle is unsustainable. But I've done the math. Eight billion people can't all become permaculture farmers. We can't degrow our way to survival. We need technological solutions. He's done the math too. Carbon capture at scale requires enormous energy, creates its own waste streams, and lets people avoid the harder changes. "It's a fantasy that lets us keep destroying the planet while feeling virtuous." I believe in human ingenuity. He believes in human limits. We both want to save the world but we can't both be right about how. Is the future going to be solved by more innovation or less consumption? — The Green Technologist in Boulder

61 votes

I quit my lucrative tech job two years ago to live simply. I moved to a cabin in rural Oregon. I grow vegetables, read books, write in my journal. I've never been happier or more at peace. My old friends think I've lost my mind. "You're wasting your talents," they say. "You could be changing the world." They send me articles about effective altruism, about how high earners can do more good by donating than by volunteering. They're not wrong. I had skills. I had influence. I had a platform. Now I have tomatoes and solitude. But I was miserable before. I was contributing to systems I didn't believe in. My "impact" felt hollow because I didn't believe in what I was impacting. Now I live according to my values, but my values only affect me. Is a good life lived quietly a wasted life? Do I owe my talents to the world, or can I choose simplicity over significance? — The Successful Dropout in San Francisco

58 votes