Most discussions of retirement focus on the financial aspects of leaving the workforce: “How to save enough for retirement” or “How do you know if you have enough money for retirement?”

But this might not be the biggest problem that potential retirees face. The deeper issues of meaning, relevance and identity that retirement can bring to the fore are more significant to some workers.

Work has become central to the modern American identity, as journalist Derek Thompson bemoans in The Atlantic. And some theorists have argued that work shapes what we are. For most people, as business ethicist Al Gini argues, one’s work – which is usually also one’s job – means more than a paycheck. Work can structure our friendships, our understandings of ourselves and others, our ideas about free time, our forms of entertainment – indeed our lives.

I teach a philosophy course about the self, and I find that most of my students think of the problems of identity without thinking about how a job will make them into a particular kind of person. They think mostly about the prestige and pay that come with certain jobs, or about where jobs are located. But when we get to existentialist philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, I often urge them to think about what it means to say, as the existentialists do, that “you are what you do.”

How you spend 40 years of your life, I tell them, for at least 40 hours each week – the time many people spend at their jobs – is not just a financial decision. And I have come to see that retirement isn’t just a financial decision, either, as I consider that next phase of my life.

Usefulness, tools and freedom

For Greek and Roman philosophers, leisure was more noble than work. The life of the craftsperson, artisan – or even that of the university professor or the lawyer – was to be avoided if wealth made that possible.

The good life was a life not driven by the necessity of producing goods or making money. Work, Aristotle thought, was an obstacle to the achievement of the particular forms of excellence characteristic of human life, like thought, contemplation and study – activities that express the particular character of human beings and are done for their own sake.

And so, one might surmise, retirement would be something that would allow people the kind of leisure that is essential to human excellence. But contemporary retirement does not seem to encourage leisure devoted to developing human excellence, partly because it follows a long period of making oneself into an object – something that is not free.

German philosopher Immanuel Kant distinguished between the value of objects and of subjects by the idea of “use.” Objects are not free: They are meant to be used, like tools – their value is tied to their usefulness. But rational beings like humans, who are subjects, are more than their use value – they are valuable in their own right, unlike tools.

And yet, much of contemporary work culture encourages workers to think of themselves and their value in terms of their use value, a change that would have made both Kant and the ancient Greek and Roman philosophers wonder why people didn’t retire as soon as they could.

‘What we do is what we are’

But as one of my colleagues said when I asked him about retirement: “If I’m not a college professor, then what am I?” Another friend, who retired at 59, told me that she does not like to describe herself as retired, even though she is. “Retired implies useless,” she said.

So retiring is not just giving up a way of making money; it is a deeply existential issue, one that challenges one’s idea of oneself, one’s place in the world, and one’s usefulness.

One might want to say, with Kant and the ancients, that those of us who have tangled up our identities with our jobs have made ourselves into tools, and we should throw off our shackles by retiring as soon as possible. And perhaps from the outside perspective, that’s true.

But from the participant perspective, it’s harder to resist the ways in which what we have done has made us what we are. Rather than worry about our finances, we should worry, as we think about retirement, more about what the good life for creatures like us – those who are now free from our jobs – should be.

Marianne Janack, John Stewart Kennedy Professor of Philosophy, Hamilton College

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Climate change has been in the news for more than 40 years. It’s typically covered as a scientific or political issue. However, social scientists like me have found that feelings and values are what drive people toward broad, collective change – not charts, graphs or images.

Surveys confirm that the majority of Americans now believe that climate change is real. But many adults seem to feel too exhausted, defeated or powerless to do anything about it.

I am leading a large multiyear research project funded by the National Science Foundation that examines how to tap into morals, ethics and spirituality to create enduring behavioral shifts on this issue. In the pilot study for this project, which has not been published yet, we recently surveyed 275 U.S. adults to understand their relationship with and feelings toward the natural world.

This is a first step toward understanding how to start communicating differently about climate change. Climate change is altering weather patterns, temperatures and seasons, which people are now beginning to feel in nearly all locations in the world.

Many people said that when they thought of nature, it raised happy memories of climbing trees, stomping in puddles or watching sunsets. But underneath, they described fraught relationships with the environment – a tense blend of love, longing, guilt and worry.

No predetermined answers

We used an open-ended survey that allowed respondents to answer however they wished, without predetermined choices. For example, we asked “What is your personal relationship with nature?” and gave respondents a blank box to write down their own interpretation.

Open-ended questions are coded line by line by a team of researchers – a time-consuming process that limits the number of survey participants. Large surveys typically use close-ended questions that are more straightforward to analyze and are easier to administer to larger numbers of people.

However, using this approach meant that responses were not limited or prompted by a researcher’s ideas. The themes we found arose out of participants’ own thoughts and feelings.

How do people think about and engage with nature?

To understand people’s relationships with nature, we asked several questions. In one set we asked, “How are humans and nature related? What is the role of humans in nature?” Over half of respondents (53%) noted that we should care for and preserve Earth. Some 45% explicitly mentioned the benefits of nature for human health and well-being. And 27% discussed how humans depend on Earth and its resources.

About a quarter of responses (26%) mentioned that humans can choose to be positive or negative forces in nature. This was closely followed by statements that humans take too much from nature (23%).

When analyzing another question, “What is your personal relationship with nature?” we noted prominent themes and how participants tended to connect them to one another. For instance, participants reported that, to them, nature represented beauty, health, joy, childhood and escape.

To connect with nature, respondents said they commonly engaged in activities such as taking walks outdoors, going camping, watching sunsets or gardening. However, many said that barriers – such as time constraints, lack of physical access or being distracted by technology – prevented them from connecting with nature in the ways they wanted.

Wanting to do better

Underlying all of this were strong feelings of love, longing, worry and guilt. These emotions showed up most commonly in responses – usually through a literal statement, although sometimes by alluding to the emotion.

When discussing love, participants were most direct. They usually simply said, “I love it, honestly” or “Love it.” Longing was often expressed in slightly more varied ways, such as stating “It makes me sad to not be outside as much as I would hope to,” or “Wish I could go hiking and other things to get closer.”

Worry and guilt emerged in responses such as: “I try my best to respect the environment and take care of it. I know I can do better”; “I take care of it the best I can, but I wouldn’t say I make any large gestures either”; and “I don’t appreciate it enough.” One person simply responded: “Appreciation, respect, care, sadness.”

This question had asked, “What is your personal relationship with nature?” We did not guide respondents to list their feelings. Yet, the responses were laden with emotions.

No sense of how to help

The way in which people talk about or portray an issue – their words, symbols, phrases or images – is called a frame. Frames highlight a subset of an issue, which then generally becomes people’s primary way of thinking about something.

Positive self-efficacy frames – in other words, a belief that people can make a difference – have been largely absent from conversations about climate change. Political or distant environmental frames are more common.

For example, prominent images typically contain political figures or distant environmental impacts, such as smokestacks or melting ice. These tend to leave people feeling powerless or feeling that they have little to offer.

Our survey findings reflect these frames. People feel longing, guilt and worry toward the environment, with virtually no mention of hope, excitement or empowerment.

From paralysis to engagement

Social scientists have been learning through climate change research that some emotions paralyze and others catalyze. Is it possible to reduce paralysis and match love for nature with hope?

Other surveys show that Americans’ concern for future generations is rising, that they are worried about harm to plants and animals and that nearly all groups see human actions as the cause of these concerns. However, as long as people lack a personal sense that they have the ability to make change, they won’t take steps such as telling political leaders to act.

Our next phase of research will build on findings from this survey by examining how ethical, moral and spiritual considerations influence behavior. We want to know what’s required for these ideas to invoke a sense of personal empowerment that’s necessary to take action.

When someone focuses on their connection with one another and future generations, it draws on a different set of ethics and sense of self – and that can motivate action.

Jessica Eise, Assistant Professor, Indiana University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.