MANY OF US, at some point, received the message that hard work pays off. And there’s a lot to like about this message: It suggests that each of us maintains some semblance of control over our fate, and that the fruit of our labor will taste more like an Ambrosia apple than one of those gross ginkgo nuts that stink up our streets. As such, it incentivizes effort, which is a good thing.
But over the past twenty years, the belief in hard work has suffered some serious setbacks.
We could spend a lot of time debating the true origin of our current war on work, but a significant moment occurred during the Great Recession, when working-class Americans collectively lost about $2.4 trillion, with those having worked 20 years specifically losing about 25 percent of their savings over a six-month period.
As much as we tried to “keep calm and carry on,” that was no easy task when we knew the equivalent of five years’ work could disappear almost overnight. So some started looking for other strategies.
Not long after, in December 2009, Tim Ferris published The 4-Hour Workweek, with its subtitle promising people they could “Escape 9–5, live anywhere, and join the new rich.”
Who were these 2009-era “new rich” and what was their secret?
Ferris—whose main secret, like Alex Jones, was selling supplements—schooled readers on a kind of labor arbitrage, wherein you got a job at one rate, outsourced your tasks to a virtual assistant at a lower rate, and netted the margin, until your boss read The 4-Hour Workweek and outsourced you.
False promise always becomes a currency when times are uncertain, and so more life-hack gurus rushed onto the scene, proselytizing the idea of “working smarter, not harder,” often by advocating technology that automated tasks. Soon there was an app for everything, as low interest rates launched a golden age for unprofitable start-ups guaranteeing solutions to problems that are still problems.
Effectively, the Great Recession and its fallout eroded people’s faith in hard work, which sent us down a slippery slope that led to the New American Dream of Passive Income. Under this model, success involves the ability to “make money while you sleep,” which is certainly more capital-intensive than labor-intensive.
And here’s where those on the capital-side of the equation—the fund-raisers, deal-makers, and rent-collectors—step up and say, “Hold on. What we do is hard work.” And they’re right…kind of.
They’re right if hard work can be measured by the amount of stress one feels. And they’re right because, as anyone who’s gotten underwater on an Airbnb empire can tell you, the pursuit of passive income contains many perils. So, yeah, life on the capital side can be hard. It’s just not working-in-a-factory hard.
But the very habit of inventing sides—capital and labor—emphasizes the core failure to agree on what work is and what that work is worth.
If we can’t agree on a clear definition of work, then we can’t establish a shared understanding of merit or respect for what other people do. Every job looks easy from the outside. And in the absence of respect, we war, enter stalemates, and turn to a tie-breaker, which is always money.
So where’s all the money going?
Robots.
According to PitchBook, a data company that tracks the tech industry, about $330 billion has been invested in AI over the past three years.
That’s 330 billion reasons to believe the Protestant work ethic might have lost its luster. And that’s what makes this moment so interesting. In the past, the bosses have always paid lip service to the virtue of work in order to keep their factory floors humming. Now that a cheaper alternative might be possible, they’re tipping their hand.
So we’re seeing younger workers gravitate back to the trades. We’re seeing an increase in unionization. And we’re seeing an increase in strikes.
The war will rage on until we make an effort to break down those sides and show respect for each other’s vocations.
It’s going to require patience. It’s going to require learning more about how we each contribute to the whole. Most of all, it’s going to require, well, work. Hard work.
