Robert Skidelsky and Edward Skidelsky push for leisure in place of the endless chase for economic gain:
The image of man as a congenital idler, stirred to action only by the prospect of gain, is unique to the modern age. Economists, in particular, see human beings as beasts of burden who need the stimulus of a carrot or stick to do anything at all. "To satisfy our wants to the utmost with the least effort" is how William Stanley Jevons, a pioneer of modern economic theory, defined the human problem. That was not the ancient view of things. Athens and Rome had citizens who, though economically unproductive, were active to the highest degree—in politics, war, philosophy, and literature. Why not take them, and not the donkey, as our guide?
Along similar lines, Sophie Elmhirst reminds us that our brains need to rest:
Quiet: from the Latin, quies, meaning "rest, quiet" and linked to the Old English hwil, meaning "space of time". That’s about right: quiet isn’t only about sound but about pace, gentleness, slowness – spaces and places where things come to rest. Some people never seem to sit down; they’re constantly doing and talking, as if to stop is to fail. Noise, meanwhile, is from the Old French, noise, meaning "uproar, brawl", apparently derived from the Latin, nausea, meaning "disgust, annoyance, discomfort" or, literally, seasickness. Which is pretty much how it feels when you’re in a room of people yapping frantically at each other about all the things they’re doing with their lives.
Nicholas Carr chimes in:
I've long suspected, based on observations of myself as well as observations of society, that, beyond the psychological and cognitive strains produced by what we call information overload, there is a point in intellectual inquiry when adding more information decreases understanding rather than increasing it. … Because we humans seem to be natural-born signal hunters, we're terrible at regulating our intake of information. We'll consume a ton of noise if we sense we may discover an added ounce of signal. So our instinct is at war with our capacity for making sense.
The Dish 