If you think the phrase voluntary simplicity sounds crunchy, apparently the author thought so too. Duane Elgin kicks off his book, Voluntary Simplicity: Toward a Way of Life that is Outwardly Simple, Inwardly Rich, with a defense of sorts, explaining that he’s not talking about living in a mud hut in the boonies wearing a discarded sack.

Instead, the book’s about making conscious decisions that let you get more out of life. Instead of working long hours at a depressing job to buy crap, why not buy less crap, work less, and spend more time enjoying life?

But Voluntary Simplicity isn’t a simple how-to guide to help you de-crap and de-work — It’s a book that encourages you to start your own personal exploration to discover what voluntary simplicity might mean to you, what kind of simpler lifestyle might work for you.

Does the book sound crunchy now? Well, it is, kind of. Duane’s writing tends to get riddled with hippie-ish aphorisms about appreciating life in the moment — down to that oft-quoted Nadine Stair bit about how she’d make more mistakes and eat more ice cream if she had her life to live over.

Of course, Voluntary Simplicity was originally published in 1981 — and perhaps aims at a slightly different audience than today’s eco-activists. A long chapter that quotes a whole buncha people on why they chose simplicity seems repetitive and boring to me, but may’ve provided solace and a sense of community to a gal in the early 80s who’d felt like a lone enviro-nut.

Much of what’s in Voluntary Simplicity, I’d read in more contemporary — and thus more pertinent — books addressing similar issues, such as Deep Economy and Food Not Lawns. But perhaps it was Voluntary Simplicity that spawned the many counterculture books that came after it.

My major misgiving about Voluntary Simplicity is its heavy focus on familial relationships as the reason for opting out of consumer culture. The reasoning: Many people wanna spend more time with their families, but can’t due to their demanding jobs needed to pay for the crap they buy; so buy less crap, and spend more time with family. Now, certainly relationships — familial or otherwise — are important. Yet isn’t there something to be said too for for individual desires and ambitions? Individuality in this book too often gets conflated with individual consumption or individual monetary gain — yet personal aspirations are much more wide ranging than those proscribed by a capitalist culture. As someone who’s decided to opt out BEFORE getting stuck in a suburban, 2-car-garage home with a heavy mortgage, husband, and kids, I felt the book was geared towards — people not like me.

Still, Voluntary Simplicity may be just the book for eco-newbies — especially those who feel trapped by their current work constraints. Thanks to Traci for organizing a new green book club, for which I read this book :)

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