Summary of the Core Content
This article reveals a fundamental contradiction by comparing public culture and leisure activities in China, Europe, and the United States. In China, many nominally “public” facilities (such as swimming pools) are highly commercialized, with prices excluding ordinary citizens. Offline public cultural activities have declined, leaving people to rely on low-cost online entertainment. The concepts of “useless legitimacy” in Europe and the community-based model in the U.S. provide valuable references for understanding this phenomenon. The article raises the question: What constitutes the minimum version of a good life, one where ordinary people can enjoy leisure at an affordable cost and with dignity, without always having to be “useful”?
1. Public Swimming Pools: The “Selection Mechanism” Behind Tickets
Public swimming pools in Chinese cities are more like commercial entities; their hours are often booked by children’s classes and private lessons, leaving little time for ordinary people. The prices are also exorbitant—55 yuan per session in Shanghai, 60 yuan in Beijing (90–120 minutes), compared to 17–19 Hong Kong dollars per session at the Leisure and Cultural Services Department pools, 2,400–700 yen (about 20–35 yuan) for 2 hours of swimming in Tokyo, or 3.5 euros (about 27 yuan) in Paris.
The income disparity is even more striking: In Hong Kong, the median monthly salary in 2025 was 21,200 Hong Kong dollars, making 17 dollars a negligible amount; in Chinese cities, the average disposable monthly income is around 4,260 yuan, so 55 yuan accounts for 1.3% of this budget, effectively excluding those who are sensitive to costs. These pools, funded by public money and located in convenient locations, operate more like businesses, embodying the “subtleties” of China’s public facilities.
2. Europe: “Useless Legitimacy” as a Foundation of Life
In Europe, cultural leisure is treated as a fundamental aspect of life, not just consumption. The European Union spent 81.1 billion euros on government culture in 2023, resulting in numerous free or low-cost public schools, music festivals, and art galleries. For example, children don’t need to pass exams to learn the violin, and the elderly can attend afternoon theater performances without feeling inferior; young people often enjoy free jazz concerts as part of their daily lives. These activities are seen as inherent rights.
German “Feierabend” (relaxation after work) and French “Flâneur” (leisurely strolling in cities) reflect the idea that there’s nothing wrong with leisure without a specific purpose—sitting in a café, reading in a park, or spending the weekend at an art gallery. Europe acknowledges that people can live fulfilling lives without achieving great success.
3. The U.S.: A Community Built on Business Logic
The U.S. doesn’t shy away from the fact that culture is a business; the Broadway season of 2024–2025 generated 1.89 billion dollars in revenue, and the Dallas Cowboys of the NFL are valued at 13 billion dollars. However, commerce can also foster a sense of community—Sunday football games, the Super Bowl, and bar watching events create a sense of belonging. Churches and community volunteer organizations also help combat loneliness.
However, the problem in the U.S. is that lack of money can lead to social exclusion—expensive concert tickets and NFL tickets are out of reach for many.
4. China: Online Dependence and the Paradoxical Public Culture
Chinese ordinary people increasingly rely on the internet for their spiritual life, with 1.04 billion users (93.8% of the online population) spending an average of 192.2 hours on their phones per month. The reason? Offline activities require money, effort, and companionship, while smartphones offer instant access and personalized experiences. Yet, this reliance creates a cycle where more fatigue leads to greater dependence on low-cost online stimuli, further eroding interest in offline cultural activities.
Paradoxically, despite laws like the “Public Cultural Services Guarantee Law,” public spaces in China fail to meet their intended purposes, struggling to balance multiple roles (providing services, education, and entertainment). There’s also a pervasive sense of utilitarianism—children must pass music exams, adults must monetize their reading experiences, and even leisure activities are often packaged as opportunities for self-improvement. It’s difficult to simply say, “I’ll sit by the river this afternoon without doing anything,” because being idle is considered shameful.
5. The Minimum Version of a Good Life: Not Always Having to Be “Useful”
The article concludes by asking whether there’s a common definition of a good life. The answer lies in simplicity: stable income, predictable time, affordable public spaces, culture that isn’t sold as a commodity, opportunities for face-to-face interaction, and evenings without obligations. These elements have become luxuries—swimming pool tickets are no longer just 55 yuan; they represent the question of whether cities can offer ordinary people access to basic amenities at an affordable price. Free concerts challenge society’s notion that people can only be consumers or workers.
True public life begins with a redefinition of these concepts: swimming after work shouldn’t be marketed, attending concerts shouldn’t require proving one’s taste, and relaxing in a café shouldn’t be seen as a failure. The minimum version of a good life is one where people don’t always have to be productive and can still feel valued by their community.
This article doesn’t preach slogans but uses concrete examples (swimming pools, cultural traditions, and usage data) to highlight the real challenges faced by ordinary people. We often focus on growth and success but forget about the essence of daily life. Public life is not about being “high-end”; it’s about creating spaces where everyone can enjoy their everyday moments with ease and dignity.