Comparatively Speaking, You Don’t Work Hard

Can we just get over ourselves, please?

There’s been a lot of hubbub about working in the past few months.  The economy is turning around as businesses are opening, but the low-end jobs aren’t getting filled right away because of stimulus money and unemployment, or at least, that’s one way of looking at it. I’ve been chewing on this for a while and I think I’ve settled on my problem with it.

The prevailing alternative theory is that low-end jobs are terrible and no one wants to pay a fair wage.  The arguments are about amounts, but when you look at the numbers and see that the federal minimum wage has increased seven whole dollars in the last 80 years, and the average CEO now makes 10 times what their employees average, you can see their point.

Average salary in the 1940s and 50s – about $2800 to $3000

Average house price in the 1940s and 50s – about $2800 to $3000

Average salary now – about $40,000

Average house price now – about $320,000

Average CEO salary now – about $430,000

 It’s not just that the fair wage isn’t there.  It’s that a chunk of the country doesn’t even know what a fair wage should be.  There’s a lot of other political bullshit wrapped in this, but I don’t want to dissect it.

I want to look at work. The emotional connection to work is what’s behind all of this, and like many things, could use a few facts and historical context to clear things up. I’ll start with the general.  People like to believe that they work hard.  We regard that as pivotal to being a ‘true’ American, and a functional member of society.  My point is this: We do not work hard.  Americans do not work hard because they do not have to.  That is a good thing. 

Scoff if you must, but it simply is the truth.  We used to work hard because had no choice.  Let’s travel back to the nineteenth century.  No electricity, slaves in the fields, railroads, farmers working sun-up to sundown, deathtrap factories with no breaks. No benefits, fresh air, safety equipment. Women at home working their knuckles raw.  Just about everyone except the super-wealthy had to bust their ass just to get water and sleep on a lumpy, shitty bed. No vacations, no pension, no holidays or holiday pay.  You don’t show up because you’re sick?  Fired.  Can’t afford a doctor? Start digging a hole.

(Thank unions for fixing all that, by the way.)

Did I go too far back?  Okay, how about ninety years ago?  Great Depression.  Maybe a few safety initiatives (government regulations) helped, but private companies didn’t give a shit. Factories were still dangerous. Coal miners with a guarantee of lung disease. Have ever seen pictures of a textile mill?  Did you see any ropes or gear on those guys who built those high-rises?

There weren’t a lot of office jobs with air conditioning and padded chairs.  There was a term called ‘Blue Monday’ that referred to the day of the week that housewives had to do laundry.  By hand.  All day.  No washing machines or dryers.  There also weren’t any pre-packaged meals.  Everything was from scratch.  They did that every day of the week, with kids, with no breaks. 

I could easily slip into a diatribe about unions and a fair wage, but I really want to stick to a single point.  For once.

Our parents and grandparents had it harder.  They really did. We have it easier.  That’s exactly what they wanted.  All this soft lifestyle is by design.  If my grandfather, who always had two jobs (and sometimes three) could see us, he would not be pissed.  He would be happy that it’s not so hard.

But some people don’t like that.  They don’t even want the illusion that they don’t work hard. To them, the only alternative to hard work is sloth or uselessness. I guess I’m at that age where I don’t care about other people’s illusions anymore.

I used to think that I didn’t want to work.  I didn’t like it, or I was lazy and I didn’t want to admit it.  I blamed it on society or my circumstances, or five other dumb things.  The truth is, I want to work.  I just don’t want to work for you.

I want to work for me.  I don’t want to make money for other people.  I don’t want my job to be meaningless and one that serves faceless administrators and shareholders.  I have a feeling there might be a few others that share the same thoughts.  We can still have a robust economy with a new view of work.  All of your precious capitalistic ideals can still be at play, but we can redefine winning. Capitalism can be like a well-trained dog instead of a wild wolf that eats everything and shits everywhere.

To those who oppose, I ask why. The status quo has only existed for about three generations.  It’s not what life has always been.  It has changed and will change.  What kind of life do you envision?  The one where Americans have no choice but to take bullshit wages at a bullshit job and be happy they got it?  Does that sound like a great life to you?  If so, then you should be ignored.

It’s not socialism. Not really. It’s not capitalism. Not really. It’s a priority shift. I simply propose we put the quality of our lives above work instead of below it. That’s it. How do you want to live your 70 to 80 years? Busting your ass for nothing, or doing something that has meaning and you are fairly compensated? Both of these options are about work. Only one of them is the basis of a quality life