Severance….

My recent blog on Unstructured Hours has generated a fair amount of interest, especially on LinkedIn (where, contrary to popular belief, people still go to talk about career development and work/life balance). One former colleague I spoke to expressed some relief at having been made redundant, because they wouldn’t have to join any more early morning or late night conference calls (at least, not until the next corporate gig….).

Is it possible to separate “work” from “life”? (image sourced from IMDB)

The continued debate about “getting back to the office” suggests that employers are having to bribe and coerce staff to turn up in person. It reminds me of the 1980s, working in London, when some firms were offering free breakfast to ensure employees came in early. It was also a time when Friday drinks took on a social and cultural significance all of their own (until the lawsuits started rolling in).

When thinking about the desire to establish boundaries between our work hours and our non-work hours, I can’t help think about the TV series, “Severance”. Leaving aside the science fiction narrative, the basic premise is that it is possible to hermetically seal our working hours from the rest of our lives.

The irony is that when in the office, the staff of “Severance” are often (and inevitably) thinking about their “outies” (their external, outside selves from whose memory they are “detached” for 8 hours a day). And when outside, they may reflect upon their office “self” (and ponder on what type of work they actually do – I think we’d all like to know that!).

While some logistical considerations have been factored in (like, knowing whom to phone when taking sick leave), this hard delineation means that it must be very difficult to schedule your external social life, or attend to other personal tasks such as on-line banking, home shopping, booking holidays or the myriad of other needs we navigate during our working hours. (Again, I’m reminded of the 1980s, when we were allowed 15 minutes a week to go to the bank!)

On the hand, the ability to disconnect completely when you walk out of the office and leave your work behind you feels very appealing!

Next week: The Five Ws of Journalism

 

 

The Grey Ceiling

Last week I blogged about ageing rockers and the growing number of septua- and octo-genarian musicians still touring and recording. Perhaps they never got The Who‘s memo about hoping to die before they get too old? Anyway, it’s enough to make you think  Jethro Tull should update the lyrics to their 1970’s song….

Over in the world of sport, it seems ageism is still a thing. At the Australian Tennis Open in January this year, there was much media commentary (even surprise, disbelief and incredulity) that a 43-year old player reached the men’s doubles final, and had the temerity to win. In doing so, he become the oldest Grand Slam winner, and oldest to achieve a #1 ranking. Goodness knows what those same sports writers will make of a 41-year cricket player becoming the first fast bowler to claim 700 Test wickets.

Meanwhile, the US Presidential election looks like it will be fought out between an increasingly frail 81-year old incumbent, and an erratic 77-year old challenger, who has the audacity to say his adversary is not fit to stand on grounds of age and cognitive impairment. (To say that this contest will be far from elegant or dignified is an understatement!)

However, very few of us ever get to run for President – but most of us will experience something akin to the Grey Ceiling. We will reach a point in our working life when we are considered too old for promotion, or too old to hire, or too old to be retrained, or too old to be kept on.

In some roles and industries, there are compulsory retirement ages. And I get that.

What I can’t understand is the notion that just because someone is in their 50s or 60s, they are on the scrap heap of their career. The last time I was made redundant from a corporate role in a multinational organization, I had just turned 50. I can’t prove anything (because that would be age discrimination), but I had sense that it was “easier” for the company to let me go than a younger colleague: I had no dependencies, I hadn’t quite reached the full entitlement of long service leave, and I was not an expat so there were no relocation costs to consider.

At one job interview following that redundancy, the interviewer had the audacity to suggest that due to my age, experience and seniority, I would be less likely to “get my hands dirty” with day-to-day business operations and commercial decisions, and more likely to sit back and “direct traffic”. There was also a suggestion that I would be less willing/able to adapt to new technology, giving the overall impression he thought at my age, I was simply looking for an easy life.

Thanks to such attitudes which I also encountered elsewhere, I am glad I went to work as a freelance consultant and contractor with smaller businesses, start ups, owners and founders, and also in the cutting-edge technology of blockchain, crypto and digital assets – I have learned so much more in the past 10 years than I probably did in the previous 20 years of my career.

One thing I definitely don’t miss from corporate life is office politics!

And if neither ageing rock stars, nor 40-year old sports people at the peak of their careers, inspire you in your own journey (or as you hit the Grey Ceiling), perhaps some of the stories in The Guardian’s “Life After 60” series will inspire you.

Next week: Unstructured Hours