Just Work
by Stephanie Peirolo, CSJP-A
I work as an executive coach and consultant for companies that are in the business of making money. I got into this work because I wanted to improve a system that I thought was broken. I wanted to help leaders be more skillful and create more supportive work environments, especially for underrepresented minorities. But recently I’ve come to believe that the system isn’t broken. It is working effectively as designed to make owners and shareholders richer at the cost of the people who actually do the work. And this is causing me to have a change of heart in my understanding of how I want to participate in this system.
We talk about just war, war that is morally justifiable. While people don’t agree on what, specifically, a just war is, most of us agree that war is bad, and we should never enter into it lightly. Some argue that war is justifiable in the case of, for example, Nazi Germany, as they engineered the Holocaust.
What about just work? What if we started to look at the state of work in this country through a social justice lens? Not just from the systemic perspective but also from the individual perspective. How do I want to work? What companies will I support and why?
Work in and of itself is good. I always say that children and dogs are happier if they have a job to do, and I think adults are the same. But work that disregards the humanity and dignity of the people doing the work is wrong.
Too many corporations talk about work life balance as “nice to have.” It’s more aspirational than actual. Paid time off for illness, paid parental leave, and longer maternity leave aren’t just benefits for the individual worker; they are beneficial for the entire community and society.
The American healthcare system is unique in that health care coverage is connected to employment. For many, their job provides their health insurance, which gives employers too much power. The layoffs that ripped through the technology sector in the last year are going to be especially hard for families with members who are chronically ill. Ask any parent with a child with a chronic illness or disability how much they pay out of pocket to keep their child alive, and you’ll be shocked.
I have regularly worked 60-hour weeks and days on end of 12-hour days. I grew up thinking that if I worked harder, I would be safe at work, which to a certain degree was true – if you do the work of three people, you are less likely to be laid off. The individualistic approach to this is typical of capitalism. The story that I am responsible for my own safety and security is a key part of the problem. When I talk with friends who work in union shops, I am always surprised at the efficacy of the collective – they are safe because they are in a group that keeps them safe. Why did I think I always had to do it on my own?
Amazon has terrible working conditions for their warehouse workers, with injury rates 70% higher than other similar warehouse companies and twice that of the competition. And yet, since I started writing this, I have mindlessly clicked multiple times on the Amazon app to get something delivered quickly from a warehouse that doesn’t consider the safety of their workers a priority. Why don’t I consider privileging my convenience at the cost of others a problem?
Organizations that work hard against union organizations are also unjust. According to an article from this April in Fast Company, “the National Labor Relations Board has issued more than 80 complaints against Starbucks for labor law violations; those violations include denying pay and benefits to unionized workers and illegally firing workers involved in the union.” But how many of us still go to non-union Starbucks and buy our favorite caffeinated treat?
Finally, we need to fundamentally reframe the narratives we have around careers, for ourselves and our children. My father was very successful. Until he got sick with a rare heart disease. He died in his forties. I wish he’d spent less time at work and more time with me and my sister. My son died when he was nineteen. I wish I’d spent less time at work and more time with him and my daughter.
Recently, my four-year-old granddaughter, Ruby, spent the night with us. We watched an old G-rated movie about a mouse detective. Like Sherlock Holmes, the mouse wore a deerstalker hat and smoked a Meerschaum pipe. Ruby kept asking about the pipe. I realized she’s never seen anyone smoke. She watches mostly Sesame Street and Curious George, and no one in her family smokes.
I tried to explain it to her, but she couldn’t quite understand why anyone would put something in their mouth and set it on fire. Fire is dangerous, right? “Does it hurt?” she asked me, her brows pulled together in concern.
That’s a generational change. She is growing up in a time and place where fewer people smoke, and there are fewer depictions of smoking in media.
I hope that by the time she has children, we will have gone through a similar cultural change in how we work. And that some older person will be explaining to a child watching an old movie that people used to work long hours and bragged about sleeping at their offices. That people had to go to work sick, and very soon after they gave birth; that individuals had to work long hours and they still risked being laid off with no notice and losing their health insurance. And the child will look at the older person with the same mystification. “Didn’t that hurt?”
This article appeared in the Autumn 2023 issue of Living Peace.