ON BEING USEFUL: THE DIGNITY OF LABOUR

Measured by the hour, work is the most important part of many, perhaps most, lives. Labour has occupied the greater part of the waking hours of the human race since time immemorial and one’s job – or lack of it – is the most generally accepted marker of one’s place in the social order.

Genesis 3:19 commanded that, as a result of that first disobedience, humans should live by the sweat of their brows. Work as a punishment captures some of the unappealing features by which it is defined. They are most evident in the kind of work where there is division of labour and of classes, numerically weighted towards the bottom. It is associated with: loss of freedom, and being bossed around, even bullied; the fear of failure, of making a mistake however trivial (missing a spoon in a table setting), of falling behind others, of looking a fool, of being mocked and pranked; unpleasant, gruelling and not infrequently damaging physical toil, mental strain, stress; inhospitable physical and social conditions; eternal repetition of the same actions, even in some cases of the same physical movements; uncontrolled interruption (politely called multi-tasking); being in attendance or on call; waiting (all work is riddled with waiting) and clock-watching; and sometimes acute danger with a risk to limb or even life. “Work” encompasses a wide range of human activities from the relatively elevated calling of the priest, doctor, or nurse to a frenzied repetition of simple actions, while one is harassed by progress chasers who in some cases do not even permit the toilet breaks necessary to prevent incontinence.

The fragmentation of labour in industrialized society into small elements may remove any claim to dignity. As a thoughtless schoolboy, I relished a comedy sketch in which an individual spoke enthusiastically of a job that consisted in putting the holes at the end of toothbrush handles, so that they could be hung up.