Working life

My relationship with work isn’t exactly love-hate. It’s more a case of tolerate-dislike. It’s weird and often a little dispiriting, and while I can’t say I’m exactly sure if, what, or how the pendulum could swing more toward the “love” side, I’m definitely on a journey to figure it out.

Here’s some background.

First, I’m inherently cynical, making a lot of workplace shenanigans pique my bullshit-o-meter rather than inspire me. Second, I don’t subscribe to the notion you have to be “passionate” about what you do. It would be lovely, but there’s a reason it’s called “work” and not, say, “fun.” Third, I view the idea people should pursue their passion as a recent phenomenon and something of a first-world luxury. Fourth, I don’t believe you should define yourself by what you do, or wrap too much of your self worth up in your career (with one caveat—skip to the final paragraph for more). And, finally, I think the blurring of work and play is ultimately pretty debilitating.

It seems this is something younger generations are figuring out. Actor Hugh Jackman made a headline or two this week by advising people to work at 85% capacity rather than 100% (or, as some are wont to say in defiance of logic and math, “110%.” An aside: the correlation between people declaring this and those who “work hard, play hard!” is … 110%). While I suspect Jackman was talking about applying that approach to things you love, The Guardian spun the comment into a riff on quiet quitting, which I’m not sure was his point.

Yet the whole “quiet quitting” notion is fascinating, largely because no one advocating it suggests people simply fail to do their jobs. The idea is people do what their roles require—“quiet quitting” doesn’t involve giving up, merely not going above and beyond in a system where many feel that’s neither appreciated or compensated. That’s very different to phoning it in and expecting to continue to be paid as though you’re not.

Quiet quitting is, in fact, what was once simply known as work: you do your job, do it well, and go home. That’s incompatible with the 110% work-hard-play-hard tribe—the kind of employees many bosses love and have become accustomed to. After all, who wouldn’t love someone who gives you bonus work without additional compensation?

I wrote on my company’s blog a while back about the “workism con” and the eternal quest for better work-life balance. It’s an issue I’m still grappling with, not because I don’t have enviable flexibility in my current role, but because I’m a cranky bastard even though I work at a lovely company with great people (other events in my life may currently be contributing—compartmentalizing is hard sometimes).

My current role is, in fact, the most satisfying work experience I’ve had in the United States since entering the workforce here in 2006, in no small part attributable to the fact the company is smaller. That reduces petty politics in inverse proportion to the ability to get stuff done, which makes a tangible difference to feeling wanted and valuable.

Yet … I’m still a cranky bastard, and I’m increasingly realizing it’s not fair. It’s not fair to the people I work with—many of whom seem to really enjoy what they do or, at least, are faking it until they make it. And it’s not fair to me, when I likely could be doing things I really enjoy that would, as a result, deliver better overall performance.

So, what’s the solution?

One notion is “falling in love with your job,” a concept that’s been around for a long time. That’s about finding joy in small things that, ultimately, adds up to greater satisfaction. To use the awful business jargon, this seems like a quick win worth pursuing no matter what, both because it’ll relieve some of the day-to-day drudgery and because it may make you a nicer colleague. No one likes the person who’s always pissing in the tent. Second, having a sense of purpose matters. It’s easy to intellectually justify almost any job, but the reality is that’s irrelevant if the work doesn’t speak to you personally or, more importantly, if it conflicts with your values.

I’m starting to think the key is shifting the satisfaction pendulum in whatever way works. So, stop looking for work (and particularly employers) to somehow make you happy or even happier. Pursue non-work passions that give you something to look forward to. Treasure time with family and friends that not only remind you work is but a fraction of life, and nowhere near the most important element. And, yes, look for ways to enjoy your work. Much better to have your work dial set to “like” than “dislike."

The big exception to all of this? When you actually love what you do. While I would never want to be a workaholic, I do feel a twinge of envy for people who are really into their jobs. I think that’s far more likely, though, when you work for yourself. Companies don’t love you back and, to paraphrase Don Henley, work doesn’t keep you warm. But if you’re able to craft a life doing what inspires you, surrounded by like-minded people, and have the flexibility to keep life’s priorities in order, you’re winning.