We have a return of a Slave State logic which demands work with an enforced, coerced sense of gratefulness. We are called upon to make sacrifices, to compromise, to over-compensate, and to forego the natural consequence of this kind of strain: exhaustion.
ALEX TUSCANO
In the fledgling days of the first lockdown brought about by the COVID pandemic— when the world still imagined a quick recovery, and the phrase “the new normal” was actually new— something that was erstwhile unfathomable came to pass. For the first time in a very long time humanity was forced to take a sabbatical. Work stopped. Offices shut down. That meeting that could never be cancelled? It got cancelled. In the competition between life and work, the living seemed to have leaned towards staying alive. Or so it seemed.
Work from home and its spill-over
It did not take very long for us to realise staying alive—living— came at a cost; one which most of us are not quite able to pay without mortgaging our safety and health (a concept that women everywhere have been very familiar with for a very long time: only our risks are not restricted to viruses). We woke quickly to the realisation that economics, not good sense, decides the risks that we are willing to take. The first casualty in the attempt to win the war against work-inertia was the home front. The advent of the work-from-home era led to an almost manic- level demand on the productive and creative capacities of the work force. The already narrow isthmus separating work and a life besides work, was now engulfed in a deluge of spill-over from which there was no escape. Literally.
The common outlets for unwinding were no longer feasible. There was no where to go, no one to meet, and the camera might still be running. Coming from a work culture that already valorises workaholism and treats burn-out as either martyrdom or weakness, this new format spelt exacerbated levels of over-work. As the internet (that wonderful double-edged sword) began to collapse time and space through virtual assignations across the planet, caregivers came under infernal pressure and unpaid labour went further unacknowledged at a time when everyone had eyes only for a screen. Let us not even get started on the subject of attempting to use a single system across multiple demands and workers—if you can get/afford a system that is. Coupled with the permanent sense of surveillance and the near constant shadow of work, was the ever-present threat of exposure and infection: a winning recipe for mental and physical anguish. Senior level high performers were required to perform even more. And fresh recruits lived with the possibility of lay-offs hanging above their heads like the sword of Damocles.
Essential workers were left with no choice
While the gloom of zoom cast shadows of distress on the milling populace privileged enough to work/study from home, the story of those without the advantage of a safe, cocooned work space is far more fraught. Essential workers like health-workers, sanitation workers, household helpers, maintenance staff do not have the dubious luxury of choice. These essential workers are required to do function within high-risk, stressful environment for compensation that is ingloriously unequal to their task. Furthermore, they have a Schroedinger’s cat existence in terms of social acceptance—they are simultaneously portrayed as brave heroes and carriers of contagion. Their work is invaluable, yet they carry the stigma of exposure and possible transference. The number of incidents where health workers were attacked or evicted from the home space especially in the early months of the lockdown are symptomatic of a deep rot of distrust and entitlement that seems to have seeped into the fabric of productive (utilitarian)society. Overriding all the rhetoric of heroic bravery is the fine print that states without a shadow of doubt that the employment is subject to terms and conditions, and any worker is dispensable. Consequently, we have a return of a Slave State logic which demands work with an enforced, coerced sense of gratefulness. They are required to risk and to be grateful while they do so. This is particularly relevant in the case of household help and daily-service providers. These individuals need their employment to stay financially solvent. They are required to choose between risking their lives or dying of poverty. Or walking miles and miles to a home they may not reach to a future they cannot imagine.
The natural consequence
These facts are self-evident to any individual that has to earn a living in 2020/21. But what we need to pay attention to, is the fact that we treat these as ‘facts’. This is a choice, made carefully. The massive restructuring that the pandemic mandated has curiously resulted in a work-life format designed to dress exploitation in clothes of social responsibility. In the essay “In Praise of Idleness” written in the early 1930s post World War I, Bertrand Russel writes with eerie prescience of a brilliant social critic, “The old chaos was restored, those whose work was demanded were made to work long hours, and the rest were left to starve as unemployed. Why? Because work is a duty, and a man should not receive wages in proportion to what he has produced, but in proportion to his virtue as exemplified by his industry”. ‘These troubled times’, the favourite catch phrase of work emails, are used as a justification for the excessive demands placed on the physical and mental capacities of the individual worker. We are called upon to make sacrifices, to compromise, to over-compensate, and to forego the natural consequence of this kind of strain: exhaustion.
Which part of the work force actually gets to call for a break? If they choose to step back, where will they go? What is the social price to pay for declaring that one is too tired to work harder? Or that one is too scared to step out to work? The rhetoric of productivity/profit equals existence/validity has been a recipe for self-destruction in the COVID era, especially when paired with self-righteous abnegation that is being demanded as the pound of flesh for the privilege of employment. While leisure or idleness (what Russel championed), are seemingly out of reach, the least we can expect should be an acknowledgement of the bone-deep weariness that living and laboring with the fear of death can bring about. Where is the logic in prioritising anachronistic deadlines, while actual death lurks in every errant handshake? The absurdity of prioritising the material paper-trail of targets met over physical and mental fatigue cannot be exaggerated
The right to be tired
There is value in being tired. It is a reminder of work done and an acknowledgement of the rigours that you have put yourself through. Though it is usually portrayed in a negative light, we can all agree that to be negative in the age of Corona may actually be a good thing. We are living in traumatic times which requires an unhealthy level of repression to carry on a semblance of accepted normalcy. Sacrificing the few signs of our continued humanity in pursuit of a false image of resilience and creativity will result in an emotionally stunted, mentally desiccated work force incapable of actually taking ownership or innovating—ultimately counter-productive and generally sabotaging.
Everyone has a right to be tired. Especially those of us who have had to work harder just to stay alive or to keep alive. Humanity is at a moral cross-road where it must take stock of what it means to ‘survive’ and what it means to ‘live’—and what it demands of the living as a justification for living in the name of creative employment.∎
Dr. Sreevidya Surendran is a sound academician and versatile artiste. She is a professor of Literature.
