When our train rattles though towns and countryside we can sometimes glimpse the world through the fences and trees that mark the line of the track. Fractions of reality, gone before we can process them properly and flying past us in rapid succession. In the hurtling blur of our onward journey there is no possibility to go back and examine the view properly, we only have that moment of snatched clarity.
And so, as we glimpse the real world beyond the hurtling blur of our working lives, we must do more than snatch moments of clarity through the dusty windows of our ever faster career trains.
The information technology revolution was sold to us as a liberation and as an empowerment. In part it signalled the democratisation of information and insight, placing the knowledge of the world and our connectivity to it, literally at our fingertips. We were no longer tied to Victorian workplace ideologies; everything would be about working smarter, not harder.
Technology however gave us the illusion of freedom, but the reality of an insatiable demand for unending digital tasks, constantly fired at us in emails and meeting requests by a world that forgot we had a life beyond spreadsheets and instant messenger alerts.
In such a world, where is our time to stand and stare? Where is our time to be free from the synthetic blur of work? Where is the time for us to tie our human feelings around real experiences so that they become the gift-wrapped ribbons around treasured memories?
Beyond the technological revolution, we are now settling into our still new hybrid realms. Our lives not only run by technology, but also fully integrated and infiltrated into our safest of safe places, our homes. Each day our online diaries enclose us in their coloured walls of commitments; our calendar prisons.
The answer, apparently, is to talk of boundaries, but what weight, heft and power does the word “boundary” have in such a world? I think not much. These boundaries are sandcastles against the incoming tide. There is no meaning to the word if it only marks the vanishing line between being overwhelmed with duties and commitments, and being too tired to enjoy our lives beyond objectives and meetings. It is the same frustration I sometimes feel when we talk of corporate wellbeing policies as if we are building mindfulness field-hospitals to patch up our injured, when we should be trying to stop the war.
We must do more than drop a word like “boundaries” into well-meaning conversations, we need to change the way we are expected to work; and leadership, as always, is the key.
In a hybrid, ever-connected, always on world, leadership has to be more than being sympathetic to such intrusions. We have to do so much more than a polite request not to send emails outside “office hours.” We have to do more than offer an extra day’s holiday in lieu of untold hours of lost time answering pointless messages in the middle of a holiday and across every single weekend. We have to do more, because otherwise we all turn a blind eye to the fact that our technology and working-from-home revolutions risk pouring concrete on family life.
Kindly intended words about boundaries are NOT enough. It is not the boundaries that help us, instead it is having the energy to step into a world on the other side where there is renewal, hope, kindness and fun. A place where love builds us back up and where memories are wrapped in the ribbons of the feelings that bring us joy and fulfilment. The ever faster digital career train is not offering us a life of meaning if it hardly slows down enough for us to be in the real work outside.
Leadership must be intentional about the fair allocation of work, and provide the resources and the time to be successful. Leadership, frankly, should start by honouring the fine and fair words in each employee’s contract of employment. Leadership should conspicuously respect family life. Leadership creates the space beyond work for a real life to be enjoyed. Leadership therefore helps colleagues to live, and not just to work. Leadership is stopping the train so that we can get off and properly take in the view.
Take care.
Paul xx
