There is a weird notion, expounded in the dark corners of the web and the snazziest social media profiles, that work today is more demanding or soul crushing or harder than it was in previous eras. Granted it is mostly Gen Zers making the claim. And it’s not all Gen Zers. It’s the subset of relatively affluent and college educated Gen Zers. They haven’t experienced any other eras and have a limited frame of reference, but it’s an idea with wings, taking root in popular society.
The easy and kind of lazy explanation of this idea is the ‘everybody gets a trophy generation’ believes adult work functions within a system where equal effort yields equal results. That the lies instilled in childhood about talent and perseverance can’t stand up to the cold harsh reality of present day late capitalism. We’ve all heard those arguments before. It’s a trope with obvious merit, but I think there is more to it than that.
Now, work has always been soul crushing and hard, which we’ve known for as long as we’ve captured social and oral histories of non-dominant people. Strikes and collective action from history tell us that many pushed back against unjust work systems and sometimes extracted gains that have benefited us today – eight-hour work days, occupational hazard protection, etc. We also know the concept of leisure for anyone outside of the aristocracy is still relatively new in the grand sweep of history. I haven’t made any contentious statements in this paragraph. These are generalities we can all agree on. The problem is how many of us even understand these very basic histories. It’s a subject that seems to be nearing a nadir in interest and comprehension. It’s perceived to be boring and lacking in direct economic function. Work has supposedly gotten worse and people have gravitated into more personally appealing or lucrative subjects. Our ignorance of history is a function or symptom of the soul sucking perception. There is at least a correlation between our perception of work and the education choices made out economic practicality over desire and curiosity.
I think the real culprit in all of this are the little surveillance devices we carry around with us and have accepted with glee for the diversions they can provide. They are the conduits of our leisure and the mechanism that keeps us tethered to certain forms of work in perpetuity. When you look down at your device it simultaneously wants you to engage in some mindless activity while your job beckons you to focus on the next mundane task in the never ending queue of monotonous tasks you didn’t envision yourself doing when you talked about your life hopes and dreams.
Work isn’t worse today than it was in the past. It’s an idea borne of a certain class of worker that is quite literally plugged into a system that doesn’t ever stop. The line between leisure and work is blurred by our failure to heed the call of history and most importantly our dependence on being turned on to and having our minds speeding down information sinkholes. Some perspective would be nice.
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My grandfather lived in another, poorer, country his whole life. I don’t remember him ever talking about himself in the context of work. All I know about his “career” I’ve learned in brief anecdotes from extended family, over many years. It’s a puzzle I’ve had to piece together in snippets and form into a logical whole.
What I do know is he woke before sunrise, every day, for over forty years and did small jobs on the family farm. He then got on his scooter and went to work in a factory for at least eight hours. My earliest memories of him include the scooter, but he probably went by motorcycle, bicycle, or foot for many years before he owned scooter and I was born. I have no idea what he did in that factory, but the lack of detail tells me it was something mind numbing and intense. I imagine he was a cog in the giant wheel of producing some consumer or industrial good that he never bought nor used himself.
When he returned home in the early evening he’d work in the fields until sundown or later, tending to the cows and pigs, fixing problems with the crops on his small piece of land or continuing to build onto the house where he and my grandmother raised seven children. This little summary, though short and devoid of psychology, was always communicated by aunts and uncles with reverence. The dedication to a base duty only rarely sprinkled with the kind of free time we’d call leisure today was noteworthy. Work was the grist that put food in mouths and promised something brighter in the future. Doing it well and without complaint was celebrated in that small village. I’m not one of those people who think people today are lazy or some nonsense right-wing talking trope, but I do think some perspective can be enlightening.
GLAZ 