The Value of Unfreedom
Freedom is one of the great ideals in Western Europe, North America, and some other places on our planet. We're told that more choice, more options, more flexibility will make us happier. In some cases, freedom often leads to boredom, distraction, and dissatisfaction.
I've learned this the hard way. When my days were wide open, I filled them with objects, information, and distractions. The price was hidden: not just money or time, but energy and attention. I subscribed to newspapers and bookmarked endless articles, believing I'd get around to them. But later, they had become magically uninteresting.
Distraction isn't just about shiny apps or video games. It's also an escape from pain. Learning something difficult, facing uncomfortable emotions, or simply sitting in silence feels hard. Our freedom makes it easy to run away from that. However, running doesn't make us happy. We're not made for running away but to tackle challenges.
I call my way out unfreedom: deliberately limiting choices. Far from feeling restrictive, these boundaries bring clarity and ease.
Every Sunday evening, I review the past week and design the next one. I set intentions for work, meals, conversations, and leisure. Not every detail, but enough to avoid chaos. I anticipate problems and sketch out solutions so I don't waste energy worrying.
This structure might sound robotic. But paradoxically, it creates space for spontaneity. If all the crucial topics are dealt with, I can afford to lose myself in a random activity like an art project.
Conversations can easily drift into gossip, trivia, or disputes no one actually wants. I've learned to impose unfreedom here as well. At work, that means planning meetings with clear agendas. Outside work, it means slowing conversations down. I take time before I respond, instead of fueling endless word games.
Not every discussion deserves attention. Some are battles of ego, not exchanges of meaning. My rule: avoid them. Save deeper conversations for the right people, in the right setting.
Before I use a device, I try to think about the purpose. This can, of course, also mean to scroll for 30 minutes through some YouTube videos about a topic because it's relaxing. But after that, I turn the device off. When I feel the itch to check something online, I write it down and revisit it later. Most of the time, the urge fades, and I realize it was never important.
Unfreedom sounds negative, even counterintuitive. But boundaries are what make life meaningful for me. A day without limits drifts into mediocrity. A day with structure, habits, routines, and intentional constraints becomes a day of creation and connection.
True freedom isn't the ability to do anything. It's the ability to do what matters, without being pulled away by everything else. And that requires unfreedom.