Could we live without a job?

September 16, 2019

Automation has the potential to completely change the way we conceive of work, and writers like Aaron Bastani already speak of a post-work society. To envision what this change would mean for us, we need to first understand what role work played and plays in our Western society.

Our observations

  • We’ve often written about the potential of AI and robots and how they might outperform human workers. Besides the benefits that certainly come with these technologies (easier data analysis, less heavy manual work, increasing productivity), policy analysts fear they will displace a relevant number of workers. In addition, recent interactions between AI and cognitive computing suggest that automation will not only influence the more traditional targets (retail and transport sectors) but might also substitute human workers in more complex and creative jobs.
  • There is a growing body of literature on the idea of a post-work or minimum-worksociety brought about by massive automation. Even though data does not suggest that we will soon experience a radical replacement of working humans by machines, considering this extreme scenario might be useful to start questioning the value we attach to our working life.
  • The interest in the changing nature of the relationship between humans and their jobs stems from art and literature as well. The Art collective Lou Cantor has opened an exhibition on the post-automation future and its implications for psychology, sociality and work replacement. Moreover, 20th century novelist JG Ballard explored the psychological effects of a life without jobs in Having a Wonderful Time (1978). While some of the characters in his novel embrace their free time to undertake (subjectively) meaningful activities, others do not seem to be able to find meaning in their lives beyond work.

Connecting the dots

We live in an extremely work-centered society. Jobs are not only the means with which we meet our most basic material needs; they are a way to establish status and identity. We spend more than one third of our life working and this is what we prepare for during most of our schooling years. When we are kids, we are asked: What do you want to be when you grow up? And often (if not always), the question and the answer refer to the job we believe we will do in the future. When we decide where and what to study, we look at employability rates to understand what university will guarantee a profitable and satisfying career for us. “Career days” and recruitment events at universities are becoming more and more common and a sign of prestige for the organizing institutes. So even our infancy and education system are entrenched with the work-centered lifestyle of our society. In addition, there seems to be a negative stereotype towards those who did not manage to have a big career: the hedonists, the lazy and demotivated.
But, has this always been the case? Historically speaking, the positive normative value we attach to work is a relatively recent development in our Western society. In ancient history, the Hebrews and the Greeks believed that work (ponos, later used in Latin as poena, i.e. sorrow) was a curse inflicted on humans by divinities. In fact, manual labor was imposed on slaves while higher social classes dedicated their time to art, warfare, philosophy and big commerce. Especially for the Greeks, wisdom and prestige were determined by the amount and quality of leisure time one could enjoy, not by one’s career achievements. With the advent of Protestantism in the 16th century, the cultural perception of physical work changed. In the Protestant ethic, hard work had a major role in giving meaning to one’s life. Indeed, Protestantism offered a religious rationale to support work as a value for everyone, independently of social classes. Later on, the philosophy of hard work spread beyond religious justifications and became part of the secularized culture of Western societies. In the late 18th century, work was not only the basic means to survival, it became an ideal citizens could strive for if they wanted a better life, a means to freedom from oppression.

In fact, central figures of the American Revolution such as Benjamin Franklin praised the liberating value of work in their writings. The industrialization of the 19th century and its continuation in the 20th century changed work ethics again. Middle and lower classes started to lose control over their jobs. Whereas before, most of the businesses had been family and home-based, technological developments radically changed the work environment: small businesses evolved into huge industrial factories owned by capital owners. In this new setting, both psychological and economic rewards for hard work were not assured anymore. The mechanization and anonymity of tasks reduced workers to appendages of machines who were not able to enjoy the benefits of their hard work due to low salaries and prolonged working hours. While some scholars worried about the disruptive effects of an obsession with work due to industrialization, Keynes was more optimistic and predicted that new technologies would reduce working hours to 15 per week and that we would be able to enjoy our free time in prosperity, assigning more value to culture, knowledge and sociality. However, the economist was not right. We still live in a work-centered society where the wealthy can strive for more intellectual careers and the poor are dependent on multiple precarious jobs to survive. The digital revolution we are experiencing has already changed our relationship to work and might change it further. One’s expectations may, nevertheless, differ. Those who fear the advent of automation and digital technologies highlight that they might increase unemployment, especially for those already struggling. The enthusiasts on the other side contend that we will finally see Keynes’ promises fulfilled: reduced working hours and more leisure time for other meaningful activities.

Implications

  • If we want automation to have a positive impact on our relationship to work, we need to ensure that the gains from enhanced productivity will be shared so that everyone canwork less and still have the means to survive. The most common, yet controversial,proposal is to introduce a universal basic income or substantial benefit schemes in our welfare systems.
  • A society with no (or little) work might be a challenge not only from an economic perspective, but from a psychological one too. Since work has come to have meaning in itself and we now associate it with self-worth, it might not be easy to adapt to a life without work. For example, according to anthropologist David Graeber, our obsession with work, i.e. “workism”, led us to create “bullshit” jobs that in turn have dragged us into depression and a burnout epidemic. Thus, the transition to a post-work society should be sensitive to our psychological need for self-worth.
  • Considering that jobs have come to define one’s identity, people might experience an existential crisis if there isn’t as much work to be done, or they might simply not be able to spend their free time in a satisfying way. Indeed, we might need to think about ensuring the possibility to engage in other meaningful projects beyond jobs, such as volunteering, sports, art, social activities and cultural circles. Indeed, this is one of the promises of post-work enthusiasts.

Series 'AI Metaphors'

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1. The tool
Category: the object
Humans shape tools.

We make them part of our body while we melt their essence with our intentions. They require some finesse to use but they never fool us or trick us. Humans use tools, tools never use humans.

We are the masters determining their course, integrating them gracefully into the minutiae of our everyday lives. Immovable and unyielding, they remain reliant on our guidance, devoid of desire and intent, they remain exactly where we leave them, their functionality unchanging over time.

We retain the ultimate authority, able to discard them at will or, in today's context, simply power them down. Though they may occasionally foster irritation, largely they stand steadfast, loyal allies in our daily toils.

Thus we place our faith in tools, acknowledging that they are mere reflections of our own capabilities. In them, there is no entity to venerate or fault but ourselves, for they are but inert extensions of our own being, inanimate and steadfast, awaiting our command.
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2. The machine
Category: the object
Unlike a mere tool, the machine does not need the guidance of our hand, operating autonomously through its intricate network of gears and wheels. It achieves feats of motion that surpass the wildest human imaginations, harboring a power reminiscent of a cavalry of horses. Though it demands maintenance to replace broken parts and fix malfunctions, it mostly acts independently, allowing us to retreat and become mere observers to its diligent performance. We interact with it through buttons and handles, guiding its operations with minor adjustments and feedback as it works tirelessly. Embodying relentless purpose, laboring in a cycle of infinite repetition, the machine is a testament to human ingenuity manifested in metal and motion.
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3. The robot
Category: the object
There it stands, propelled by artificial limbs, boasting a torso, a pair of arms, and a lustrous metallic head. It approaches with a deliberate pace, the LED bulbs that mimic eyes fixating on me, inquiring gently if there lies any task within its capacity that it may undertake on my behalf. Whether to rid my living space of dust or to fetch me a chilled beverage, this never complaining attendant stands ready, devoid of grievances and ever-willing to assist. Its presence offers a reservoir of possibilities; a font of information to quell my curiosities, a silent companion in moments of solitude, embodying a spectrum of roles — confidant, servant, companion, and perhaps even a paramour. The modern robot, it seems, transcends categorizations, embracing a myriad of identities in its service to the contemporary individual.
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4. Intelligence
Category: the object
We sit together in a quiet interrogation room. My questions, varied and abundant, flow ceaselessly, weaving from abstract math problems to concrete realities of daily life, a labyrinthine inquiry designed to outsmart the ‘thing’ before me. Yet, with each probe, it responds with humanlike insight, echoing empathy and kindred spirit in its words. As the dialogue deepens, my approach softens, reverence replacing casual engagement as I ponder the appropriate pronoun for this ‘entity’ that seems to transcend its mechanical origin. It is then, in this delicate interplay of exchanging words, that an unprecedented connection takes root that stirs an intense doubt on my side, am I truly having a dia-logos? Do I encounter intelligence in front of me?
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5. The medium
Category: the object
When we cross a landscape by train and look outside, our gaze involuntarily sweeps across the scenery, unable to anchor on any fixed point. Our expression looks dull, and we might appear glassy-eyed, as if our eyes have lost their function. Time passes by. Then our attention diverts to the mobile in hand, and suddenly our eyes light up, energized by the visual cues of short videos, while our thumbs navigate us through the stream of content. The daze transforms, bringing a heady rush of excitement with every swipe, pulling us from a state of meditative trance to a state of eager consumption. But this flow is pierced by the sudden ring of a call, snapping us again to a different kind of focus. We plug in our earbuds, intermittently shutting our eyes, as we withdraw further from the immediate physical space, venturing into a digital auditory world. Moments pass in immersed conversation before we resurface, hanging up and rediscovering the room we've left behind. In this cycle of transitory focus, it is evident that the medium, indeed, is the message.
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6. The artisan
Category: the human
The razor-sharp knife rests effortlessly in one hand, while the other orchestrates with poised assurance, steering clear of the unforgiving edge. The chef moves with liquid grace, with fluid and swift movements the ingredients yield to his expertise. Each gesture flows into the next, guided by intuition honed through countless repetitions. He knows what is necessary, how the ingredients will respond to his hand and which path to follow, but the process is never exactly the same, no dish is ever truly identical. While his technique is impeccable, minute variation and the pursuit of perfection are always in play. Here, in the subtle play of steel and flesh, a master chef crafts not just a dish, but art. We're witnessing an artisan at work.
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