Modernity or bust
Is the modern pace of work killing us off? Anna McNamee reveals a nation on the edge
Not long ago I visited the office of an aspiring corporate bigwig. I was running late. Have no fear, Ian assured me when I phoned to make my excuses, Ill be here until at least nine.
When I finally arrived, the office was still packed with bustling workers. A somewhat crumpled underling with sweat patches under his arms and bags under his eyes ushered me into a room. There peering out from behind a stack of open folders and a computer screen was my contact. Dont worry, he said again, cutting my grovelling short. I had a lunch meeting and so Im just catching up on some of my emails. If you dont reply as soon as you get them people think youre a slacker.
A quick game of I-spy around his inner sanctum told a sorry tale. Several changes of clothing hung on the back of the door (just in case). He had his own coffee machine (the staff canteen closes at 5:30) and a miniature basketball hoop (I cant always get to the gym). Perhaps most poignant of all was the collection of childrens books in one drawer. (My wife likes it if I can read the kids a story down the phone a couple of times a week, he admitted sheepishly. Just so they dont forget who I am.)
Gentle probing revealed a 13-hour work day was par for the course for this prime specimen of management material. The framed photos of a grinning wife and three adorable children balanced on one corner of the desk were, no doubt, there to remind him what they looked like. The fact was, hed also been working weekends and hadnt really seen them in a while.
I know it must seem crazy, he admits. But I work in a very competitive field and it just wouldnt look right if I went home when there was still work to be done and deadlines were looming. Theres always either a crisis or something left to do.
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