Leisure in (un)sustainable times

 

  

 

    Frans Melissen is transversal professor of Sustainability Transitions at Breda University of Applied Sciences 

Leisure at the heart of being human

Our conversation began by examining the role leisure has played in the development of modern society and, simultaneously, in the emergence of today’s sustainability challenges. From climate change to biodiversity loss, pollution to inequality, many of these issues are in some way linked to leisure activities and the negative impacts of leisure are both social and environmental in nature.

There is much more to it than direct social and environmental impacts, though. Early on, Mata put forward a profound statement: "Leisure is kind of the point of being alive”. In a culture increasingly dominated by work, achievement, and economic output, this may seem radical. Yet, it rings true. We do not live to work. And while work can be a source of meaning for some, very few people find all of their fulfilment, social connection, and sense of purpose through their jobs alone. For most of us, the truly meaningful aspects of life emerge elsewhere: in relationships, in creative or intellectual pursuits, in moments of joy and rest; in leisure.

Leisure is not a luxury. It is a human need, a vital part of how we connect with others, express ourselves, and build a better future.

Any world worth living in must therefore have leisure at its core. And any world worth living in must also be sustainable - a world in which everyone not only has a home, food and safety, but also the opportunity to engage in leisure activities that nourish them, on a planet that can continue to support life today, tomorrow, and into the future.

But we seem to have lost this balance. As societies, we were once better at maintaining a proper balance between work and rest, between productivity and pleasure, between human activity and the rhythms of the natural world. Over the past few centuries, however, we have steadily shifted towards an extractive mindset - one that prioritises maximising economic growth, productivity and material wealth over well-being and meaning.

As a result, leisure has been gradually co-opted by the very systems it could help us transcend. It has become commodified, commercialised, and increasingly shaped by market logic. We no longer simply enjoy leisure; we buy it, schedule it, and consume it. We have allowed it to become just another piece of a system built on profit, competition, and performance.

This shift has far-reaching consequences. As leisure becomes more commercial, it loses its potential to support mental well-being, social cohesion, and equity. Environmentally, it contributes to the very crises we face - through overconsumption, pollution, carbon emissions, and the depletion of natural resources.

"Leisure is now more and more something that we need to recover from work and to prepare us for work”, one of us noted. "It is almost as if we have started treating leisure as things we do to allow us to be even more productive”. In that sense, leisure has become a prisoner of our socio-economic system

Reclaiming leisure as a force for good

Despite this sobering diagnosis, our conversation was far from cynical. We turned to the question of how leisure might evolve in a more sustainable world. What would it look like if leisure became part of the solution?

The first shift, we agreed, would be away from leisure as a commodity. In a sustainable society, leisure would be less structured, less commercially driven, and far less resource-intensive. Jeroen made a pointed observation: "It is quite vital that people will not travel as far and as frequently as they do now”. Tourism, after all, is just one dimension of leisure, but an emblematic one - and it has become deeply unsustainable in many ways.

A sustainable vision of leisure prioritises quality over quantity. It focuses on the richness of local experiences, meaningful relationships, and low-impact activities. It embraces the ‘strength of the local’ and rethinks what fulfilment really means. It blends online and offline in ways that support well-being rather than distract from it.

Here, Mata introduced a fascinating perspective by referring to the hierarchy of needs as interpreted by the Blackfoot Indians: self-actualisation, social actualisation, and intergenerational actualisation:

• Self-actualisation: the sense of agency and control over one’s own life.
• Social actualisation: the sense of fulfilment that comes from community and shared experience.
• Intergenerational actualisation: the commitment to leaving a thriving, nourishing world for future generations.

These principles offer a powerful lens for reimagining leisure. In this vision, leisure is not a luxury. It is a human need, a vital part of how we connect with others, express ourselves, and build a better future.

Leisure as a catalyst for change

The final stage of our conversation turned to the future: How might leisure actively support sustainability transitions?

Jörn framed it beautifully: "Leisure can help us rediscover what life is truly about. It allows us to meet, connect, and simply be human - without the pressure to generate economic value or exploit the earth”. This potential is not theoretical; it is tangible. Mata brought up the example of video games. Often dismissed as frivolous, games actually offer rich opportunities for reflection, connection, and education. When designed well, they can highlight the consequences of exploitation, help players appreciate alternative ways of living, and even imagine new social systems. Games with thoughtful design can instil a sense of hope. They can teach, inspire, and provide tools for transformation. They can offer glimpses into futures that are more cooperative, inclusive, and sustainable. And this is not limited to gaming.

A sustainable vision of leisure prioritises quality over quantity. It focuses on the richness of local experiences, meaningful relationships, and low-impact activities.

Other leisure activities - from arts to nature walks, from storytelling to collective cooking - also have the power to help us explore values beyond material success. When leisure is focused on connection, self-expression, and non-exploitative joy, it naturally supports both social and environmental sustainability. Jörn put it this way: meaningful leisure helps us to "connect with the right people in the right way, within networks and places that support these kinds of connections”.

Of course, enabling these forms of leisure requires design and intention. Marcel pointed out that this is where our roles as researchers and educators come in. We can experiment with creating leisure experiences outside commercial contexts. We can study what works and what does not. We can co-create new models with communities. By doing so, we can nudge people and societies towards alternative ways of living and being - ways that are less exploitative, more equitable, and ultimately more fulfilling.

A critical but hopeful path forwards

This conversation did not offer easy answers. Nor did it end with unrealistic optimism. We acknowledged that transitioning to a sustainable model of leisure will not be easy. It will require cultural shifts, economic restructuring, and individual reflection. It will demand courage and creativity. But we also agreed: it is possible. And it is necessary.

Leisure, far from being a passive escape, can be an active force for transformation. It can help us question the systems we have inherited and imagine the ones we want to build. It can guide us towards lives that are not only more enjoyable, but more just and sustainable. "About fulfilment, social connections and contributing and being part of something bigger than yourself”, as Marcel puts it.

As professors at BUas, we will continue to explore how leisure can play this role. Through research, education, and experimentation, we hope to contribute to a world where leisure is no longer part of the problem but a key part of the solution. A world in which leisure helps us become better, more connected, more hopeful versions of ourselves. And perhaps, a world in which leisure once again becomes ’the point of being alive’.