In 1986, in Rome, near the famous Spanish Steps, the first McDonald’s fast food restaurant in Italy opened. As expected, just like everywhere else— even in the former USSR— the arrival of McDonald’s sparked major interest, almost euphoria. The world was (and much of it still is) fascinated by American high-calorie “fast food”— but not everyone. Carlo Petrini, an activist and gastronome, staged a protest against the arrival of the American fast-food chain in Rome. Petrini, a former member of the communist party PdUP (Party of Proletarian Unity) and a regular contributor of culinary articles to well-known leftist newspapers such as il manifesto (still in publication) and the now-defunct l’Unità, founded the International Slow Food Movement.
It was a movement that stood for everything opposite to “fast food.” It promoted local food, traditional cooking methods, growing your own food, and even more than that— the process of eating itself was emphasized. Why rush? A meal is a time to relax, have meaningful conversations with family or friends. Furthermore, the movement argued that in food production, quality is far more important than quantity. Over time, it became instrumental in protecting local producers from the effects of globalization. It also strongly condemns food waste and overproduction.
But today we’re not (only) talking about that movement— because it actually marked the beginning of something even bigger. Petrini, perhaps unknowingly, laid the foundation for something more significant: an evolution that is now referred to as the Slow Living Movement. Naturally, his concept of “slow food” was so impactful at the time that it inspired a broader line of thinking. If speed in eating can be harmful— what about speed in every other part of our lives?
The movement has branched out, and its influence is growing. In fact, it might not even be best to call it a movement— it’s more of a subculture, or simply a way of life. But even the term “slow” itself isn’t quite ideal. In today’s world, the word “slow” carries rather negative connotations, doesn’t it? If we say someone is “slow,” we often mean physically incompetent or mentally dull. Being slow is frequently interpreted as being stupid, lazy, boring, idle, lethargic, unmotivated, uninteresting…
That’s why it’s important, from the start, to demystify the word itself: being “slow,” in the context of the idea we’re discussing today, is something very positive, healthy, even— yes— productive.
So what is “slow living”?
Does it mean we drag ourselves through life? Spend two hours in the shower instead of ten minutes? Take an entire afternoon to cook dinner? Absolutely not! “Slow living,” in the sense intended here, is about finding balance between fast and slow living, between fast and slow tasks. In musical terms, there’s the phrase tempo giusto— meaning “the right tempo,” “the right pace.” The same applies to life. Why must everything be done quickly?
Slow living is a reaction to, a remedy for, the “cult of speed” imposed by the modern world— or more precisely, modern capitalist society. Surely you’ve noticed that everything around us emphasizes speed and maximum efficiency. We’re expected to work faster, learn faster, spend faster, eat faster, read faster, live faster…
Is it any surprise, then, that people suddenly stop and realize a year, a decade— maybe their entire life— has just slipped by? Research shows that people on their deathbeds most often regret two things: not living life on their own terms, and working too much. By adopting some principles of slow living, we may be able to avoid these two sobering realizations at the end of the road.
We often don’t notice it, but everything around us relentlessly caters to speed. How to get from point A to B faster, how to work more efficiently… there’s no break. Even during vacations, we feel pressured to see as much as possible, as fast as possible.
Interestingly, many of the core ideas of slow living emerged before social media and smartphones. Of course, those new technologies have only accelerated our pace of life.
So is the slow living subculture opposed to modern technology?
No— that’s not the point. It’s true that many slow-living advocates appreciate traditional technologies, especially when it comes to agriculture or food preparation; some prefer life in the countryside, far from urban chaos. But that is not a requirement of the movement— in fact, quite the opposite. While this may seem contradictory, most slow-living supporters actually live in large cities and have no intention of moving to rural areas. Can a person truly live slowly in a big city? Absolutely— and the habits promoted by this philosophy can help, wherever you are.
As we said before, being “slow” means being fast when needed and slow when needed. The point is to find balance and not confuse these two modes of being. Even our brains have two ways of thinking— fast and slow. The fast one handles current issues quickly and analytically. The “slow” way of thinking is more creative, more profound. If you’ve ever had a “Eureka!” moment, when a brilliant idea or solution suddenly appeared— yes, that was almost certainly your brain’s slow mode in action.
So it’s crucial to make room for both ways of thinking/living. Do we do this automatically each day? Usually not. Most of us live in constant “fast mode.” We wake up, check our phones, dive into obligations, and end our day the same way it started— consumed by screens.
We hurry even when it’s unnecessary— for example, rushing in the car on the way home. Why? Is the one minute we save really worth it? Or on the way to work, what do we do on the bus or tram? Could we allow ourselves to just experience that time “slowly,” or must we fill it with music or typing on our phones?
If we allowed ourselves to slow down, we could reduce the immense stress we’re surrounded by— and with less stress, we’d be healthier, avoiding illnesses linked to chronic anxiety.
Slowing down can also make us more productive at work. How is that possible? Productivity “gurus” constantly push us to do more, faster, master more skills, read 100 books a month. But that model is flawed— it’s crafted just to make those ideas sound appealing. The truth is, we need to give our minds space to think slowly, because that’s where we may find better, deeper solutions, even for business problems. Perhaps you discover a way to increase your income without increasing your workload. Perhaps those brilliant ideas were right under your nose— but you were too focused on being productive to notice.
The slow living movement is connected to other life philosophies like minimalism, stoicism, and mindfulness. The goal isn’t just to improve your health, career, or emotions— the goal is complete transformation and asking the most important question of all: Why do we live? For work? Money? A fancy car? Maybe those are things you truly want— but then ask yourself, why do you want them? Were those desires planted in you? And if they truly bring you joy— great. Just remember, most of our desires and needs are shaped outside our minds, not from within.
Why do walks in nature feel so calming? Because nature isn’t in a rush, and because you’re not constantly bombarded by ads. But what if you live in a city and can’t escape to nature every day? Some slow living advocates have created an idea called the “third-floor focus.” Why the third floor? Because at that level, you escape the rush— no more hurrying people, flashing ads, or store windows. At the third floor, life “begins.” There you might see someone on a balcony, notice architecture— everything the chaos below hides.
Another interesting tip is to become a “tourist in your own city.” When you’re abroad, everything grabs your attention— buildings, habits, details. But at home, everything feels familiar, boring. That’s a problem, because you walk through the city thinking about your day or problems, not noticing the city itself.
Unfortunately, the human brain evolved to prioritize negative over positive thoughts. Why? Because our ancestors had to assess dangers— is that a tree trunk or a lion? The one who worried more had better odds of survival. We are descendants of the worriers. That’s why we’re prone to stress— but today, most of our worries are irrational and unhelpful.
So how do you become a “tourist” in your own city?
Simple— get lost on purpose. Go to an unfamiliar neighborhood. Wander aimlessly. You might discover a hidden gem no one knows about.
This idea— the “art” of doing nothing— is something worth practicing. Try this: take 10 minutes a day and do nothing. Leave your phone in another room, sit on a balcony or somewhere peaceful. You’ll quickly learn how restless you are, how your mind races. Many can’t even sit for 10 minutes without doing something— that’s the first realization. But it gets easier each day.
Living slowly doesn’t mean celebrating slowness for its own sake. Nobody likes slow internet. Speed is great when needed— just like focus. But outside of that, we can enjoy a slower life.
One slow-living advocate shared a story: He was always busy, constantly thinking about emails, clients, invoices. But his young son loved bedtime stories. The father read them, but rushed— always eager to get back to work. One day he came across an online ad offering classic bedtime stories shortened to 60 seconds, claiming to “retain all the important parts.” For a moment, he thought it was a great idea— he could finish reading faster and return to work. But then he caught himself, saw the absurdity of it, and realized what was happening. From then on, he read the stories fully, slowly— and his son loved the change.
This isn’t just his story— it’s our story. We’re all missing out on life because the cult of speed is imposed on us as an absolute imperative. Often, we realize this too late… but maybe not always. The slow living philosophy is gaining traction— especially in chaotic, urban environments. From how we wake up, decorate our homes, interact with others, to how we fall asleep— there’s so much we can (and should) change. Not just to reduce stress— but to calm, slow down life around us— because otherwise, it might just rush by.
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