*This is a reposting of the first piece I ever posted online, almost exactly eight years ago, at Front Porch Republic. It has remained one of the most popular I’ve posted.
Also, here is short video sharing my joy in splitting wood.
Hilaire Belloc once wrote that he never burned anything but oak in the huge fireplace of his ancient home in West Sussex. For a while I considered doing the same in the wood stove of my home in the Shenandoah Valley. Oak of several kinds are indeed abundant here. Then practicality intruded. It has a way of doing that. There are in fact a number of eastern hardwoods that have a higher heating value than oak, such as hickory and locust. When upon approaching my home in winter one smells the smoke curling out of the chimney, there are a number of possible suspects: oak (red, black, and white), black locust, red elm, hickory, and less often, cherry or maple.
For thirteen years we have heated this house almost exclusively by wood; and I have never purchased a single cord. All the wood that I use is bucked with my chainsaw and hand split with a maul or axe, by me, my family, or my college students. My commitment to purchase neither wood nor hydraulic splitter is at times a sign of contradiction. It has been pointed out to me on numerous occasions how much time I would save with a hydraulic splitter—a ‘splitter’ in common usage. When upon hearing that I heat my house by wood somebody asks, “Surely you have a splitter?” I usually point either to my son or to my arms. For most people there is a very simple line of reasoning: the hydraulic splitter saves time and is therefore better, if at all affordable. For a number of years I wavered. Time is always at a premium, and sometimes I feel as though I simply cannot keep up with the demand for wood. Before my son Nicholas grew strong enough to be a significant help, the volunteer assistance of my students was indispensable.
The situation recently came to a head when someone simply said to me: “What you’re doing is not economical.” Economical? My accuser proceeded: Why not just purchase the wood you need? Think about it John. Since you are a professional and your time is worth more per hour, you would be better off to pay someone else to do it for you—or in other words, buy the wood. Heck, since you’re a writer and lecturer, spend the hours writing and lecturing that you would have spent getting wood. You will come out ahead.
I really puzzled about this for a long time. It seems that here I have bumped up against an unquestioned, at times unconscious, assumption of many in our society: that money can be used as the most reliable standard for measuring and comparing activities—at least all those activities that are not obviously of a higher order, such as worship. But it seems to me that this assumption is dangerously flawed. There are countless activities and forms of work that I could pay someone else to do for me, at a wage well below what I earn, which as an academic is modest by many standards. Is the goal to make enough money that I can pay others to do all the menial, or manual, activities in my day? Or perhaps more realistically, to pay others to do as much as possible, given the limitations of my income? That, it seems to me, is a common, if unrecognized, trap.
If on the practical level ‘economical’ means arranging one’s affairs to maximize the earning and utilization of money with a minimum of work-input, then the project of heating my home from the wood of my forest is not economical. By the same standard I fear that raising my own children would not be very economical. Once money, especially in the form of hourly wage, is used as the fundamental measure of the worth of activities, where do we stop?
Greek philosophers of the fifth and fourth century B.C. are the origin of the word economy. Oeconomia, literally the law (nomos) of the household (oecos), referred to a rational ability, also called an art, that arranges the various aspects or parts of household life. The word nomos, rather than meaning law in the proper sense here, more connotes an order. Some kind of order must be put into the home. For these Greeks, arts are rational abilities, learned both through the mentorship of masters and much personal experience, whether the art of shepherding, ship-building, or military strategy. Any art at root gives order or arranges its subject matter so as best to achieve the end or goal of the art. The goal and the methods of the art of shipbuilding are relatively obvious and beyond dispute. The arts directly concerning human life and community are more complex, and disputed. But Aristotle stakes out a position regarding oeconomia that echoes down through the ages and reverberates in my ears: “household management attends more to men than to the acquisition of inanimate things, and to human excellence more than to the excellence of property which we call wealth.” (Politics I.13)
People, and their good, must be put first in household management. As Socrates says in the Apology, the good man is the one who actually treats more important things as though they are more important. How we arrange things in our household should always have first to do with the good of the people that most essentially constitute that household. Perhaps I am missing something, but I think this is much easier said than done. I have often found that in my zeal for money, and sometimes for free-time, I have lost sight of the persons whose happiness is the whole point.
How then might I think about splitting wood by hand? The main thought that kept coming to mind is simply how much I enjoy it. There is a unique satisfaction in a well-placed strike that sunders a round of wood. Hand-splitting is a full-body experience, engaging countless muscles and all five senses except taste (actually, sometimes even taste). The rhythmic smack is followed by a pungent scent determined by species and age of the wood. A few rounds slowly grow into a pile of triangular pieces that stands as a solid monument to the work you have just done. You cannot help but look upon that pile, and then look back again, having a feeling of personal accomplishment. “That pile will keep my family warm for … days.” Refreshed, exercised, and satisfied, you turn to whatever else the day holds in store. And this is to say nothing of the conversations had, and bonds formed, with fellow splitters.
So I ask myself: Should I really give this up? Am I being silly by continuing to do that which a machine, or purchased wood, could easily replace? I think I have at last come to my final answer: no. This is not silly; it is good. Work, especially manual labor (manual of course originally means by hand), has an importance in itself. Our society seems to have accepted with little or no consideration the premise that manual labor should be avoided if possible. I suggest that manual labor, as a particularly human form of work, has a special and enduring value in human life. This is especially evidenced in its power to unite the one working with other persons, places, and things.
When Hesiod wrote, “The gods have decreed work for men!” he does not refer to a cruel twist of fate. Certain kinds of work are in fact a blessing, a way not only of producing goods, but of enacting fundamental connections. Given the importance and value of splitting wood in my household, I have realized that to replace those many hours with an hour or two of running a machine, or with purchased wood, would be a net loss, a sign that something has gone wrong. The machine is certainly not evil. And I can picture a scenario—for instance injury or sickness—in which I would turn to it. Nor am I arguing that splitting wood by hand is for all households. But I do assert that to replace a profoundly human form of work simply because one could come out monetarily ahead, or even save time, is not in itself good. To do so might well be an instance of putting things above persons.
My son Nicholas is now in his early teens. He can swing a pretty mean axe, piling up the wood with steady progress. I remember well when multiple strikes of his little axe were as so many raindrops on a window. As years passed by we kept setting up a chopping station for him at a safe distance from mine. Little talk, much swinging, even if not much splitting. Then the tell-tale sound—a sort of hollow echo—of a strike that has hit home. This followed by the ripping sound of a strike that has broken through. I will never forget his looking over to see if I had heard that magical sound. Of course I had. I would not take that away from him. I would not take it away from us.
**Eight years later… the blessings continue. My grown son Nicholas is one of the most proficient splitters I’ve ever seen. His sisters, especially Juliana, have become quite competent too. Our youngest, Raphael at age 9, is growing in the craft. Now our toddler grandson stands and watches, utterly fascinated…
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
Thank you so much, it’s my first time reading this and totally agree with the wisdom and blessing of manual work and I see very little appreciation of such work. The more gadgets, the less time, and more costs to the detriment of many. Keep up the good work and what a wonderful testimony for your family. I enjoy shovelling snow by hand not by machine here in Canada, taking my time.
Thank you, Clara. “Taking my time”–that is a great approach; much wisdom right there.
This video brought back many good memories from my childhood. My Father, when I was a young teen, decided to save money and heat our house with wood. He wasn’t able to cut and split wood himself for health reasons, so he “allowed” me to do it He would even joke that gyms make you pay good money for workouts like this and he was letting me to do it for free!! Every summer I was responsible for cutting and splitting about 10 cords of wood, all by hand with a maul like yours. I have to say you are exactly right about the enjoyment and satisfaction I received in seeing all that wood stacked up and ready to go for the winter.
Wow, ten cords. What a great way to spend a summer! Like you say, who needs a gym…
These activities (i.e. splitting wood) is what keeps us truly grounded and joyful in real life. I wish I had more friends and family that believed the value of manual activities. Thank you for the great reflection on being fully human! It fits rather well with the year of St. Joseph.
A great quote attributed to Henry Ford – “You should split your own wood, because then it will heat you twice.”
Wow! I’ve been reading your “Bacon from Acorns” since you first told us about it in the first “Sofia Symposium” through the ICC! I’ve never seen this one. As a career Reator, many of our “trainers” would focus on dollar power, just what you speak of here. Yet many mornings would find me in my garden weeding and doing other “mundane” chores, simply because I enjoyed it. There’s more than $$$$power to life. Thank you for this article
So glad you like it, Ginger!
“Since you are a professional and your time is worth more per hour, you would be better off to pay someone else to do it for you—or in other words, buy the wood. Heck, since you’re a writer and lecturer, spend the hours writing and lecturing that you would have spent getting wood. You will come out ahead.”
This really seems to speak to the modern view of production, production, production. As I have gotten older, I have appreciated how manual labor (especially splitting wood) allows you to “zone-out” and usually it’s during these times that I truly contemplate on the higher things. I am able to push away the stresses of the modern era and really focus. It feels like leisure to me.
Wow. I loved, loved, loved this! You articulated things I cannot. I so enjoy doing manual labor…especially outdoors. While I cannot physically split wood anymore, I can do other things that most would hire someone to do, and that’s no fun!! Creating something, whether it be a garden, or a pathway from shoveling snow, or cutting and edging my lawn, it is rewarding to me. Something that I physically did! It is such a great feeling to work outside all day, not caring that I get filthy, and seeing the difference I made!
Thanks for this!
Thank you, Cathy. I think that you have captured something very important in your words here too!
Professor, thank you for sharing your insights. Perhaps you will consider redacting your Carhartt endorsement, as said company is threatening the freedom of it’s employees who refuse the controversial covid vaccine. This seems contrary to the values espoused on your excellent blog. Blessings in all your pursuits!
Hi Agatha, I completely agree. This post was of course done long before Carhartt made this most unfortunate decision. I will not be purchasing any more Carhartts.
I have been cutting and hand splitting hardwoods for home heating for approaching five decades. I am now 74 and still take great pride but more importantly satisfaction from this endeavor. Your description of stepping back and looking at the results of ones labor and the emotion it fosters is spot on.
Thanks for sharing, Rick. I love it when someone else really sees it from the inside!