Listen Full Story:
Read Full Story:
George F. Babbitt lived in the city of Zenith, a busy place filled with factories, offices, and growing suburbs. He was a middle-aged real-estate broker, proud of his success, his car, his comfortable house, and his place in society. Each morning he woke up to the same routine—complaining about the alarm clock, kissing his wife Myra, checking the weather, and heading to work after breakfast. He was not truly happy, but he didn’t know why. To him, life meant selling property, attending business meetings, and talking about progress.
He lived with Myra and their three children—Verona, Ted, and Tinka. Verona worked in an office and wanted to do something meaningful in life, which confused Babbitt. Ted was a restless teenager who disliked his father’s dull business life. Myra spent her days keeping the home in order, always gentle but quietly distant. Their home looked perfect, but behind the comfort lay a silent unhappiness that none of them spoke about.
At the office, Babbitt worked with his partner Paul Riesling, an old college friend who sold insurance. Babbitt often pretended to be confident and clever in business, though deep inside he doubted whether his work really mattered. He joined clubs, attended Rotary meetings, and gave speeches about success and good citizenship. He wanted people to see him as important and respectable, yet he secretly felt empty. He loved talking about “modern progress,” but he never questioned what it meant.
Paul Riesling was one of the few people with whom Babbitt could be honest. Paul’s marriage was unhappy, and he dreamed of escaping to a simpler life. He and Babbitt would sometimes go on trips together, away from their families, where they could forget their daily worries. On one such trip to Maine, they spent quiet days fishing, drinking, and laughing about their lives. For a short while, Babbitt felt free. He told himself he would live differently when he returned to Zenith, but when he got back, everything fell into the same pattern again.
Babbitt’s world was ruled by what other people thought. His friends admired money, big houses, cars, and good business deals. They gossiped about anyone who dared to be different. They believed Zenith was the best city in America and that success was the only thing that mattered. Babbitt agreed with them in public, but sometimes, late at night, he would wonder if he was living a lie. He would stare at the ceiling, feeling lonely, even while his wife slept beside him.
One day, his friend Paul quarreled violently with his wife Zilla. Years of bitterness boiled over, and Paul finally lost control. He shot her in anger and was sent to prison. Babbitt was shocked and heartbroken. Paul had been his closest friend, the only man who truly understood his frustrations. Without Paul, Zenith felt colder and emptier. Something inside Babbitt began to change. He started to see the falseness in the people around him—their greed, their fake smiles, their endless talk about morality and success.
Slowly, Babbitt began to rebel in small ways. He stopped attending some of his club meetings and avoided certain friends. He met new people who lived differently—artists, socialists, and free thinkers—people whom the respectable citizens of Zenith looked down upon. Through them, he glimpsed another kind of life, one that valued truth and individuality over money and reputation. For the first time, he questioned everything he had believed in.
He grew close to a young widow named Tanis Judique, who was gentle, independent, and unlike anyone he had known before. She listened to him and seemed to understand his longing for freedom. They began spending more time together, going to parties and meeting her bohemian friends who laughed, danced, and spoke openly about art and love. For a while, Babbitt felt alive again, as if he had escaped the heavy walls of Zenith. He started to neglect his business, ignoring calls and meetings.
But his rebellion could not last forever. People began to notice his change. His old friends whispered that he had lost his morals. Clients stopped trusting him. Myra grew cold and distant, pretending not to notice his late nights. The excitement of his new life slowly faded. The people he had joined were careless and self-absorbed, and he began to see their flaws too. When he was with Tanis and her friends, he realized he did not truly belong there either. He missed his family, his children, and even the order of his old life.
Then something unexpected happened—Myra fell seriously ill. Babbitt was terrified at the thought of losing her. All his rebellion vanished in that moment. He rushed to her side, cared for her tenderly, and prayed for her recovery. Watching her pale and weak made him realize how much he loved her despite everything. He felt ashamed of his selfishness and promised himself he would be a better husband.
After Myra recovered, Babbitt returned to his business and his social circles. His friends welcomed him back warmly, happy that he was “normal” again. He joined the Boosters’ Club meetings once more and gave speeches about civic duty and hard work. Outwardly, everything returned to how it had been before. But inside, Babbitt was no longer the same. He now knew the emptiness of the world he lived in. Though he smiled and played his part, he could never again believe in the simple faith of success and respectability.
As time went on, his son Ted began to show the same restlessness that Babbitt had once felt. Ted hated business school and wanted to work with his hands instead of sitting behind a desk. He also fell in love with Eunice Littlefield, the daughter of Babbitt’s neighbor. When Ted announced that he and Eunice wanted to marry quickly, Babbitt’s first reaction was anger. He wanted his son to follow a respectable path, to study, make money, and earn status. But when he looked into Ted’s hopeful eyes, he saw his own lost dreams reflected there.
Babbitt surprised everyone by supporting Ted. He told him to follow his heart and marry the girl he loved. Myra was shocked, and their friends were scandalized, but Babbitt didn’t care. In that moment, he felt a strange peace. He knew he could not change the world around him, but he could at least let his son live honestly. It was the only freedom he could still give.
Life in Zenith continued just as before—noisy, busy, and full of self-important people chasing money and praise. Babbitt went to work every morning, made deals, and kept up appearances. But when he walked home in the evening, he would sometimes slow his steps and look at the sunset over the city roofs. He would remember the days with Paul, the laughter with Tanis, the sickness of Myra, and the joy in Ted’s young face. Each memory made him realize how fleeting and fragile happiness truly was.
He had once believed that comfort and reputation were everything. Now he knew that life was much more complicated. He still went to the same meetings and used the same polite phrases, but deep in his heart he no longer belonged to that world. He had learned too much about himself, about fear, love, and the price of conformity.
Sometimes, lying awake at night, he would hear the faint sounds of the city—the cars, the trains, the faraway hum of machines—and wonder if anyone else in Zenith felt as lonely as he did. Yet he was not bitter. He had made peace with his contradictions. He knew he would never escape entirely, but he had at least faced the truth once. That truth stayed with him like a quiet light inside his heart, invisible to others but always burning softly.
He still smiled at his neighbors, greeted his clients, and spoke kindly at dinners. But behind every word was a new understanding. He saw through the noise and vanity of his world and recognized how frightened everyone was—afraid to be different, afraid to be honest. He no longer judged them harshly because he knew he had once been the same.
When Ted and Eunice married, Babbitt felt an unexpected happiness. Watching the young couple laugh and plan their life together filled him with hope. He realized that maybe the world could still change a little, through people brave enough to follow their hearts. That thought comforted him more than all the speeches and honors he had ever received.
As the years passed, Babbitt kept working, aging quietly, still living among people who called him successful. But success no longer meant what it used to. He no longer dreamed of being admired or powerful. He only wanted peace, love, and honesty. Even if the city of Zenith never understood him, he understood himself at last, and that was enough.
And so George F. Babbitt, once the proud symbol of American ambition, ended his days with a softer spirit. The city still roared around him, but he listened differently now. He had learned that freedom is not in money or fame but in knowing who you truly are, even when you must keep that truth hidden in your heart.