Siesta, for Americans, has always been the emblematic vice of
lazy Latins. It evokes the image of a Mexican peasant dozing beside
his mule, a sombrero shielding his face from the sun, as he puts
off all his tasks till an ever-receding mañana. No
one but small children and the elderly can respectably sleep during
the day in the work-addicted United States.
Now a
study by a Harvard neuroscientist, reported in last week's
Economist, suggests that shut-eye in the afternoon might
actually boost productivity. Experiments demonstrate that visual
perceptiveness (as measured by a subject's ability to pick out a
bar from a striped background) drops over the course of a day
without sleep. A half-hour nap noticeably stems this decline, and a
solid hour keeps you as visually sharp at 7 p.m. as you were at 9
in the morning.
"The upshot," concludes the Economist, "is another
piece of evidence that humans, like many mammals which have evolved
in tropical climes, are adapted not to go out in the mid-day sun.
They are, rather, crepuscular -- that is, they are most active in
the morning and the evening. The Protestant work-ethic that drives
those now living in colder climates to work throughout the day may
actually be counter-productive."
This will hardly be news in the Spanish-speaking world, or in
other countries (such as Italy) where everyone free to do so goes
home for a mid-day snooze, and where those whom globalization has
forced to give up the practice are only more appreciative of it.
Yet sleep is only part of the custom, whose value cannot be
measured merely in terms of efficiency on the job.
When I lived in Spain a few years back, I knew a prominent
Madrid lawyer, the farthest thing from a lazy Latin, whose
almost-unvarying workday routine included lunch at home with his
family. After the meal, he would change into pajamas and sleep for
an hour; then get up, shower, change back into his suit, and return
to the office for another four or five hours of work. No Spaniard I
knew found anything unusual about this.
To me this practice epitomizes the life of a free man. It means
spending almost as much time with your children and spouse as with
your professional colleagues. It means eating healthier food than
you are likely to get in any restaurant. It means being constantly
reminded that work is just one element in the formula for a
virtuous and happy existence.
The benefits of a true siesta cannot be obtained by having a
couch installed in your office (as the Economist
humorously suggests). Doing it right requires, among other things,
stopping work for three hours in the middle of the day and not
dining till ten. Which is feasible only if everybody follows the
same schedule -- as fewer do every day, even in Spain. The world
economy is a non-stop operation, and those who would compete in it
must accommodate themselves to its rhythms.
When I decided to become a freelancer, almost three years ago, a
major attraction was the freedom to set my own schedule, which in
my plan would include a siesta. I've managed to carry out this plan
maybe half a dozen times. Though phone calls almost never disturb
me (my clients on the east coast of the U.S. aren't even at work
till 3 p.m. my time), there's always e-mail to check if not to
answer, news websites to visit for updates, and so forth. The
Internet, which made possible my escape from the office, has
brought the office's hectic pace into my home.
At least I can, with great effort of will, turn off my computer.
A more recent acquisition has turned out to be an even greater
distraction. Quality time with family may be the point of a siesta
lifestyle, but what do you do with a baby (nine months old at this
writing) who finds early afternoon the perfect time of day
not to take a nap?
topics:
Law
