WORK WON’T LOVE YOU BACK – Sarah Jaffe

People tell job seekers to “do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” author Sarah Jaffe points out. More than that, “work itself is supposed to bring us fulfillment, pleasure, meaning, even joy.” Self-help books, life coaches, and empowerment courses all promote this idea about jobs. Teachers reinforce it at school “career days”. But this myth that many jobs should be “labors of love”, and pay isn’t so important, can be poisonous and oppressive. Capitalism cons us into accepting worse pay, conditions and benefits for this work. What’s more, it tells us we should be happy despite this. In fact, we should feel fulfilled by our oppression.

That’s the argument Sarah Jaffe, a journalist for outlets like The New York Times and The Nation, is making. Her book Work Won’t Love You Back tours the professions of teachers, artists, interns and more. It covers the history of college athletes, videogame programmers, nannies and retail clerks. Along the way it builds an argument that our labor system is tricking us. Organizing together, Jaffe argues, is our way out of it.

This book examines how certain types of labor became something less than real “work”. When I say this, I’m talking about what interns in offices as much as your mother’s household duties. It’s all labor. But how did domestic labor become “women’s work” to countless generations? How did the idea of the “nuclear family” take hold in modern life, and was it ever a fair or realistic idea? Jaffe draws on sociology & history to show the origins of these ideas. She has done her research, too. She cites the witch hunts of eras past and the beginnings of the Protestant work ethic. In both cases, a patriarchal male power structure dominated women’s bodies and destinies. Henry Ford’s “pro-family” schemes and the child-rearing infrastructure of the USSR get discussed. The author concludes that these ideas of work and a woman’s place in it weren’t born out of human nature itself. They had specific beginnings, and held value to those in power.

Jaffe’s gaze goes deeper and wider. We see how formerly women-dominated professions still receive less pay, protection and dignity. That includes teaching, domestic work, and nonprofits. Today, other marginalized groups often fill these ranks as well, to the same effect. They perform work that requires them to care for and nurture others. It demands their passion and skill. Still, it rewards them with fractions of what other similarly skilled workers receive. Meanwhile, Jaffe dismantles the notion that this work is less “valuable.” Yes, “laborers of love” still rack up profits for bosses and contribute societal value. But unless they organize, unionize and fight, they rarely receive their fair share.

Even the professions that are the stuff of our dreams – artists, athletes, game designers – fall short here. Don’t get me wrong, the opportunities for creation, expression and achievement remain real. Sometimes they’re great, and Jaffe traces that history in respectable detail. But most members of the creative and athletic professions end up making very little. Only a few gain widespread fame or acclaim and the high salaries that go with that status. Meanwhile, artists struggle to get exposure and pay the bills. Programmers work eighty-hour weeks under “crunch” periods to meet release deadlines. Athletes fight to win fair pay, representation, and even safe standards of play.

The testimonies workers give in this book opened old wounds for me. I’m someone who tried the academic and artistic paths for a time in the past. Instead, I settled for a safer civil service job. Why? Because, as Jaffe points out, most folks who try to break into academia nowadays serve as “adjuncts”. They’re part-time, paid by the class (and underpaid at that), with no job security and few benefits. Like aspiring poets and screenwriters, academic programs failed to prepare them for the harsh job market, even in their fields.
Plenty of folks will say that academics and artists lack marketable skills. They aren’t paid well because their work isn’t valuable. But that’s a huge distortion of the truth. The theories, research and insights from our universities inspire our leaders and entrepreneurs. They power our industries and help us reform our societies.

Furthermore, art clearly has major value. Creativity has value. We may disrespect and underpay all but the most famous creators. That doesn’t change the fact that we spend billions of dollars on art each year. I’m not just talking about studio art. I mean books, television, film, video games and more. We spend so much of our free time consuming creative entertainment. Even obscure artistic professions (like the poetry I studied in grad school) matter. If you haven’t read poetry, your teachers might have. Your leaders might have. I’ll guarantee some of your favorite writers, musicians, actors and directors have, too. To judge our value by how many commodified units we sell is dishonest, naive and unfair.

Work Won’t Love You Back marries deep research with powerful testimony. The book is a useful history of the broader labor movement, including notable strikes. Along with workers’ struggles for dignity and pay, Jaffe marks their unionization efforts. We see how small connections and acts of solidarity can change the face of entire industries. We see people trying to get by through their work so in their off hours, they can be more human and whole.

Sarah Jaffe argues that if we want a better working life, we have to seek those possibilities together, in solidarity with one another. Great Recessions and Resignations may transform our working lives. So may future pandemics like COVID, or the automation of algorithms and robotics. But whether they lead to anything better for us is, in the end, up to us. Someday, we may look back on our current struggles as as the catalyst for that change. As Jaffe notes, “if it was previously easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism, we have now glimpsed both.”