I’ve always thought Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs was a load of horsehockey. For those of you who don’t know what Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is, in a very small nutshell, it’s a theory that you first have to worry about food and shelter before you can worry about your basic safety. Then you have to get safety before you can worry about love. Then you need love before you can worry about self-esteem. Then you need self-esteem before you even get into self-actualization.[1]
As a professional worrier[2], I think this idea is too simplistic. I can worry about where my next meal is coming from AND if I’m going to get fired AND think I’m worthless all at the same time. There’s no hierarchy in all of this. I’m juggling all of these problems all of the time in no particular order.
Then, I had an experience which changed my understanding of Maslow and his hierarchy.
You see, Abraham Maslow was a man who wrote his grand theories in the 1950s, and this makes all the difference.
Let me explain.
If you’ve been a regular reader, you know that I recently went on a fancy cruise around the boot of Italy, including stops in Croatia, Greece, Malta, and Tunisia. It was the trip of a lifetime. I paid a bloody fortune for it, and was treated accordingly. We had a suite which included a bedroom approximately the size of my bedroom at home, including a closet bigger than my closet at home. Seriously, look at this closet.
We also had a marble bathroom with separate sinks and a separate shower and tub. On a cruise ship. Along with the luxury digs came a butler. He wasn’t our own personal butler, I think we shared him with three other suites, but he might as well have been our own for all the personal attention we got. He kept a bowl of fresh fruit in our room. We asked for ice once, and from that point forward we got the ice bucket filled three times a day. There were so many turn-down chocolates placed on the pillows of our beds that we couldn’t keep up with eating them. The laundry service returned our socks and underwear wrapped up like fancy presents like this:
Never in my life, probably not even as an infant, have I been so taken care of. I got the impression that the staff of the Regent Seven Seas Splendor actually cared about my happiness, though the cynic in me knew that couldn’t possibly be true. I didn’t have to do anydamnthing for myself, not even carry my drink from the bar to the dinner table by myself or put my own napkin on my lap.
And that’s when it hit me. I’d been looking at Maslow’s theories all wrong. I thought, because I have a good job and a decent income, that I didn’t have to worry about where my next meal was coming from. I thought because I was self-employed (and therefore could not be fired) and owned my own home and lived in a nice neighborhood, I didn’t have to worry about safety. I thought, because I had been comfortably married for over a quarter century that I didn’t need to worry about love. Etc.
But I was wrong. Ooh, baby, was I wrong.
I’ve always had to worry about where my next meal was coming from. If I want a meal, I have to decide what that meal is going to be, buy the ingredients from the grocery store, cook it, and clean it up. Or pick a restaurant, drive there, and pay for the meal, then drive home. On the ship? Meals just happened at an appointed time. Someone else decided what was on the menu, and everything was prepaid. I didn’t clean up anything. I wasn’t responsible for anything or anyone.
Suddenly, my brain cleared up. Without the mental task of deciding what to wear (I only had five outfits to choose from) or the need to so much as hang up a towel after using it, I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. I had the freedom to think whatever I wanted to think whenever I wanted to think it.
I remembered reading about Henry David Thoreau and how when he wrote Walden Pond his mommy did his laundry for him.[3] I wonder if he’d have had the space for all those higher order thoughts if he’d have to worry about washing his own shirts.
Which is how the rich get richer and the powerful get more and stay powerful. When you don’t have to deal with the mundane tasks of daily life, your lower levels in Maslow’s hierarchy, your brain is freed up for invention and creativity and (dadgum do I hate this phrase) self-actualization. It’s hard to take over the world when you’re folding laundry or frying chicken.
And that’s why only a man in the 1950s, a man who would have had a wife running his household, who didn’t cook or do laundry or worry about child care, who probably didn’t pack his own suitcase or make his own travel arrangements or do anything that didn’t tickle his fancy, could have come up with that hierarchy of needs.
Me? I worry about all of my needs. All of the time.
I’ll actualize when I’m dead. Or the next time I take a cruise.
[1] If this theory interests you, see Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
[2] I’ve always said that lawyers are professional doomsday predictors, and as a purebred Jewish mother, I am naturally good at this.
That cruise must have been amazing! Had no idea it was this plush. Aside from the cabin envy I experienced reading this, the thoughts about this hierarchy were insightful, especially the last sentence.
Really interesting thoughts about this. I come from a long line of professionals; I'm better now at 68. I've discovered a secret that helps me worry less about my son. i don't ask him anything. When I don't know what he is doing or where he is, I do much better. He usually gives us a rundown after events. I started sleeping through the night when he went to college, and I wasn't waiting up until late for the garage door to open. Great article, as always.