A Brief Philosophy and History of the Boondoggle

Boondogglists boondogglin

The dictionary defines a boondoggle as "work or activity that is wasteful or pointless but gives the appearance of having value." I find that definition to be a bit too focused on outcomes. Who’s to say what’s trivial, or what lacks value? I'm 55 years old, somewhere in the middle of my life, and I’ve seen a few things. I’ve traveled continents by plane and train, by bicycle and bus, hitched rides on the backs of motorcycles and pickup trucks, and shuffled tens of thousands of miles on foot. And I can tell you with certainty that the most meaningful moments of my life have often been the ones others might call trivial.

Racing bikes, writing blogposts nobody will read, sharing meals, fishing with friends, or buying an unprovoked coffee for my wife, these are not wasted efforts. Nor is helping my three children make some sense of the world. These trivial moments or “boondoggles” are the structure and foundation of a meaningful life. They are small acts, slowly achieved, and frequently unrecorded. But they matter. Admiral William H. McRaven captured this spirit in his 2014 commencement address at Texas A&M when he said, “If you want to change your life, and maybe the world, make your bed.” The wisdom in that simple act, learned from his experience as a Navy SEAL, is not about making your bed, but about consistency, discipline, trust, and the power of small daily acts to create lasting change.

Fred Rogers, better known as Mister Rogers, embodies this same philosophy. On Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, he didn’t lecture or discuss principles of change, but rather showed the  value in tying a shoelace or feeding his pet fish Mitzi. That these actions teach care, empathy, and the value of consistency. For Rogers, small gestures were not mere niceties; they were the foundations of human dignity. He believed in love not as a performance, but as a quiet, faithful presence. In a world obsessed with spectacle, he reminded us that kindness lives in the mundane, and that the rituals of daily life shape our character far more than any headline ever could.

This belief in the dignity of the small is deeply embedded in the boondoggle’s own curious history. The word first appeared in print in a March 1930 article in Scouting Magazine titled “The Rise of the Boondoggle.” Naturalist and conservationist photogrpaher Walter E. Hastings wrote of the popularity of crafting braided lanyards and hat bands, “beautifully colored leather strips,” a pastime dubbed boondoggling. According to Hastings, the word was coined “out of the blue sky” by Eagle Scout Robert H. Link of Rochester, New York. These boondoggles reached a high point of cultural pride at the 1929 World Scout Jamboree in Birkenhead, England, when one was presented to none other than the Prince of Wales, who wore it proudly. The handicraft of boondoggling (and the philosophy it embodies) soon spread around the world.

In the end, a boondoggle isn't about wasted time. It’s about making space for the seemingly insignificant stuff, the things that don’t shout but still shape and refine our lives. It’s about crafting meaning with actions, giving presence to the moment, and finding dignity in the uncelebrated. To boondoggle, in its truest sense, is to resist the tyranny of efficiency in favor of something slower, stranger, and more human.

In a world that prizes outcomes, the boondogglist cherishes process. In a culture that elevates the spectacular, the boondogglist defends the quiet. Afterall to boondoggle is to celebrate that small things done with care, matter most.