We are at war with ourselves. The ways in which we have organized the superstructures of western society are actively degrading our ability to be humans in the most meaningful ways.
I wrote that first paragraph while I was in a very different world of work. Part of a multi-national corporate system wrapped within an even larger one.
It was an organization where the best intentions were increasingly boxed in with layers of programming meant to protect us from “risk”. Each new operating procedure and tool was meant to help us become more efficient at the tasks, while also making it increasingly more difficult to make mistakes that could cause real harm to the business.
For an organization whose roots grew deep in the soil of being actual humans trying to do good, it had become a series of wheels within wheels where the individual was verbally celebrated while also being handled as a liability.
We don’t intend to do this. I believe that when employees are told that new systems are meant to improve their work, it is an honest sentiment. The problem is that “improve the work” focuses on taking out the tricky bits. It involves efforts to remove ambiguity and misunderstanding. It clarifies roles and responsibilities and limits the scope of each person’s agency.
Certainly, knowing what one is responsible for, what success looks like, and what the timeline is are all pieces of information that can give an employee confidence. Moving beyond that to dictate exactly how, when and where the work is to be done begins to cut away at the things which make us human. The ways in which we can bring pieces of ourselves to the work that we do.
Our quest for risk-proofing the work removes the “stress” of thinking about certain elements, while also removing the necessity to think, and reason, and be creative.
These are things that bring meaning to the work.
I managed to get out, and that isn’t a small thing.
Being in the system, especially from the beginning of one’s career, means that it becomes the “norm”. The system seems like it makes sense. Especially for someone like me, who loves to understand the way things function. I like to know how to be effective and efficient and useful. I like to get a sense of how the pieces fit and why. It helps me to know what my task means for others who are working downstream.
Our corporations are built on chasing metrics. Find something, quantify it, and organize a way to achieve it. For a species of natural problem-solvers it feels good to have a clear goal. So, we create more of them. We attempt to quantify every piece of the equation.
It becomes easy to think that everything can be quantified and targeted, because so much focus in an organization such as this revolves around eliminating what cannot be quantified.
I became accustomed to it because it was comfortable.
The world outside of work had a tendency to look frustratingly disorganized, chaotic and irrational.
There are major problems out there, why aren’t we just focusing on rational solutions and making a plan?
At the same time, there was always a voice telling me that there was discovery to be made in this world beyond my work.
I had been lucky enough to travel and see beyond the boundaries of my imagination. I had moved away from home at a time when my life became fully my own to decide. I had met someone who came with a wonderfully diverse set of experiences and perspectives that challenged my own.
I had made a lot of art, and run many miles.
Still, the choice to leave my comfortable world of corporate work wasn’t one I made of my own accord. I had become disillusioned and suspicious, but it wasn’t enough to tip me out of my comfort zone.
It was the ultimate expression of corporate compassion for them to ask me to leave after 15 years of strong service for no other reason than my current position didn’t fit into their new model of risk-reduction. Keeping me around would have made me an outlier, despite the fact that I had been hired as something of an outlier into a position that was successful for the team.
I didn’t leave on my own because the siren-song of the the system is strong enough that it had narrowed my perception of the possible.
When I was out I spent my time seeking something to replace it. I had trouble marketing myself and looking for a new position because I could only describe myself as a piece within the larger machine. I didn’t know what else I was bringing to the table and I couldn’t describe my less definable strengths to others in a way that they could grasp. I didn’t quite understand them myself.
I am passionate about the limitations of the corporate world because I have lived through them. While I was a part of that system I became aware of how damaging it was to my own sense of self-worth. It robbed me of my agency and deprived me of the ability to find meaning in the tasks I was expected to carry out.
What I am only realizing now is that these aspects became my world. We adapt to our surroundings. Our perspectives are shaped by the hours of our day. Modern corporate working jobs shape the way we perceive the world. They shape the possibilities that we see for ourselves. They shape how we think about handling the issues we face. They shape how we handle social encounters, our friendships and even our family interactions.
We become used to the hierarchy, the rigid structure, the layers of expectations, roles and responsibilities. We expect that issues are someone else’s problem to deal with, and we grow accustomed to having our voices drowned out by others with more authority. We relinquish our decisions to those with “influence” and “power”.
I am thankful to be surrounded by artists, activists and those who are trying to lead with their hearts. I am thankful to be part of an organization that doesn’t always know how to get from point A to point B because we are not always sure quite where that is.
Life is disorganized and unquantifiable. “Solutions” do not come cleanly and without confusion or trade-offs. Struggling through opinions and obstacles gives valuable perspective. Learning to collaborate and iterate provide new insights and opportunities.
I am thankful to be surrounded by artists, whose struggles each day are to bring into the world something intangible which has not existed before. That is the closest thing to a genuine human struggle that I can think of, and being in it helps me to encounter my wider world with a different set of eyes.
Wandering Path Arts 