Sholeh: Pride in work is on the decline

Something has shifted in American culture.

Just the other morning over coffee, when topics meander as murkily as our half-awake brains, conversation turned to the working world. How different it is than 15 or 30 years ago. Especially different from, according to my ever-cranky yet perceptive granddad and former department supervisor, “back in (his) day.” 

As Granddad used to complain, people have less pride in their work. 

I’m not talking about work ethic. That’s alive and well, if we accept that work conditions and expectations continue to evolve. We once accepted children working long days in factories. We once assumed 10-hour days were necessary to get ahead. Times change what’s normal in the workplace. 

Most Americans from baristas to bosses still work hard. But on average, a culture of pride in work is eroding, slowly replaced by what seems to be doing the minimum job description. As if work is almost a favor.

Passion, even for meaningful careers, is noticeably eroding. There’s a palpable absence of a sense of honor in doing well, no matter the task. Less interest in or motivation to move up. 

That culture of job pride, and its associated role in a community, once drove most to do their best at work, not just to impress the boss but to ease coworkers’ burdens. That in turn fostered self-respect. It helped workplaces function smoothly, reduced mistakes and made customers happier. 

Whether the job is washing dishes or selling widgets, community reporting or nursing, there is joy to be found in doing one’s best. Even if the boss is a jerk. Even if customers are a pain. Even if earnings barely pay the bills (acknowledging the necessity of a living wage). 

Today, modern work culture perceives a good attitude and sense of pride as external to the worker, something all those other factors need to earn, rather than the other way around. That’s the shift.

While that makes society harder to live in — fewer pleasant interactions, less help and more mistakes increasing frustrations on both sides, that’s not the point. We’ve lost something deeper, as workers. 

Exceptions notwithstanding, even in jobs with a vital role in society, such as health care, justice, government or journalism, the passion for being a part of something important has been waning. That doesn’t bode well for society at large, let alone unfulfilled workers. 

Feeling part of something bigger makes life better. Even “the smallest cog” in a vital machine contributes to a functioning whole. Pride and passion live there. Having it, while still seeking better conditions, positions or pay, benefits the worker at least as much as the business. 

Seeking answers, it seems an obvious change is that we value less, or simply fail to notice, the ways we impact one another. A subconscious self-interest now reigns, as we’ve lost awareness of mutual connections. Ironically, considering mutual impacts on one another ultimately improves conditions for the self. Two sides of the same coin.

When I graduated college just after the '80s stock market lows, I had to settle for a simple school secretarial job. Embracing it nonetheless, low pay, boredom and all, I found joy in countless kid-hugs, crayon-scribbled gifts and classroom volunteering. 

In the next “boring” admin job, volunteering for things outside my remit gave me the chance to learn new skills and — who could predict this — flying a WWII biplane, when I said, “Sure; I’ll find you a personal insurance agent,” instead of, “That’s not my job.” The agent owned the biplane. The flying became a regular thing. 

You never know where something will lead, even in “crappy” jobs. Why let misery cloud opportunity? It’s hard to imagine how depressing those years would have been had I thought only to work as hard as I felt my title, pay or boss deserved. I wasn’t special; back then job pride was more rule than exception. 

What changed? Moaning about generational differences gets us nowhere. A more useful question is, how have society and conditions altered to encourage this shift? 

We’re more prosperous. Last millennium, people both had and expected far less. Today, the opposite is true. While poverty still exists and living costs rose, overall most Americans have more “stuff” and a higher standard of living than our parents and grandparents. 

We also expect more, from life and one another. We’re less easily satisfied, as a general state of being: materially, psychologically, socially. 

That’s not all bad; needed improvements in safety, fairness, equality and access evolve. Work environments could be so draining, toxic or lopsided that health and families suffered. We needed more balance.

Yet, as often happens, the pendulum may be swinging too far the other way. Compared to even a few decades ago, our needs are less simple, both real and perceived. As expectations and dissatisfaction increase, feelings of happiness and well-being become more elusive.

Perhaps more relevant is an eroding sense of connections, as less face-to-face interaction normalizes. Once, our culture believed man had a duty to fellow man as well as self, that a good person is one who keeps in mind how their actions impact others, not necessarily in sacrifice, but in balance. 

Now, we are mostly a me-society, where self-interest rises above consideration of how our habits, words, work and perspectives impact others. Not intentional selfishness so much as habitual self-centeredness. In most cases that seems to be subconscious, so common that we hardly notice its pervasive iterations anymore.

The irony is this lost connection-consideration is very lonely, which could dissipate with even a limited resumption of a sense of duty to others. As that perceived connection has thinned, Americans have become more anxious and depressed, distrustful and angry. Reversing it in trade for a renewed feeling of mutual belonging, rather beautifully, is in self-interest.

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Sholeh Patrick is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network. Email sholeh@cdapress.com.