What is work?

It's the centenary of Einstein's big year, as Brad Feld reminds us in this post, titled Einstein Was Really Smart:

For some reason, I get a copy of TechComm: The National Journal of Technology Commercialization. I was thumbing through it where I read all my physical magazines these days (the bathroom) and came upon an excellent article titled Q: How Smart Was Einstein? A. Really Smart.  As everyone spends the next few days praising Lance Armstrong’s Tour de Force, let’s not forget Einstein’s amazing year - 1905 (er – 100 years ago in case your math is rusty.)

• March 1905: Creates the quantum theory of light
• April 1905: Invents new method of counting and determining the size of the atoms or molecules in a given space
• May 1905: Explains the phenomenon of Brownian motion
• June 1905: Completes theory of special relativity
• H2 1905: Extension of special relativity –> E=mc²

All this when he was 26 and working full time as a patent examiner. I wonder what he could have accomplished if he had access to Microsoft Virtual Earth.

Do you ever think that the conventional wisdom on personal productivity is all wrong?  I do.  We have this one word: work. But we use it to describe varieties of endeavor that couldn't be more different.  When I'm cleaning the kitchen or driving a boat, I'm engaged in a certain kind of human activity called work. But it doesn't resemble in the least the kind of activity Einstein engaged in when he "worked" in 1905.

I believe it's a fallacy to say that Einstein's hyper-productivity (hyper isn't enough--let's say quantum productivity), which occurred in burst-mode, is merely bigger-stronger-smarter-better version of work.  No, it's also different.  It's a kind of work that cannot be quantified.  Problem-solving cannot be performed in increments.  It isn't even a "process" in the sense of having steps.  The work is creating the conditions that foster inspiration.

One of the problems I think we face as a business culture, the greatest problem, perhaps, is that all of our models--even in creative fields--are based on the first kind of "work," and treat creativity as a mere superlative form of that.

I think Einstein's patent office job may have actually facilitated his creative productivity, in that it allowed him time for the necessary "background processing."  Now, I'm no Einstein (even on a bad hair day), but here's an analogy from my own experience trying to do creative work:  I found myself only able to write novels when I was engaged in menial "work" with most of my day--in my case, typing in a law office.  As soon as I was in a situation where I was to be a "full time" writer, I essentially froze--why?  I think because I was no longer writing when I felt so compelled that I absolutely had to, when the work was "ready" to be written--I was instead trying write in a 9-5 format, much the way I worked at the constricting and loathesome typing job as if it were an incremental job of "work."  Hah!

Later, I noticed something about my favorite novelists:  not one of them had written more than 2-3 truly great novels, no matter how many novels they'd written.  Some were better at turning out books than others, but the artistry follwed a consistent pattern.  Graham Greene, James Baldwin, Thackeray.  Some, like Flannery O'Connor, Richard Wright, Fran Lebowitz, didn't have it in them to write the other not-so-great novels, and to my knowledge always beat themselves up for their "writer's block."  But they each had their "1905" didn't they?  And maybe that's all any one creator really has in them. 

Here's what I wonder:  How many more people in the world would have a 1905, if we didn't require the structure of a conventional career/profession in order for such a thing to occur?

What could we accomplish if we made new models for functioning that allowed for and embraced the furtive, fitful, reactive nature of inspiration?  I think that I would be perfectly happy sweeping the floor in the boatyard for my supper, or varnishing spars, if I occasionally squeezed out a new, useful bit of thinking.  An hour a day? An hour a week?  A year in a lifetime?  If I could spend my time in contemplation and soaking up the world, maybe it would happen.

Maybe this is at root a feminine model of work--something along the lines of the "job" of parenting.  After all, nobody expects you to have a child once a year, every year, in order to be a good parent, do they?  In fact, nobody cares if you have one or eleven of them--it isn't the point.  And nobody expects you to measure the job of being a parent in hours.  It's a hard job that is all-consuming yet organic--a part of a whole life that's so integrated into the rest of life as to be indistinguishable from it.  It is also a life passage--it waxes and wanes and is over, replaced by other phases.  And best of all, there's no protestant work ethic in parenting.

We need new words and metaphors for work.  Maybe that's the best way we can commemorate Einstein's gift.

 

Comments

[leigh]

I came over at the suggestion of Nancy R.

This is a great post.

I was just told by my 12 year old that her stepmother objects to my selling my house (which I put on the market a week ago) because "If it is just about money, why doesn't she get a job?" I am a freelance book indexer. But for me what is most interesting about her comment is the resentment she feels regarding the freedom I have in working from home. She may also be unhappy and bitter in her marriage and I am the receptacle for her unahppiness, but that is another issue, right? Hehe. It is just that both my ex and his current wife (number 3) seem intent on killing the spirit of possibility in my independent, articulate, dreaming of a life of work fulfillment, in my young daughters. They subscribe to the idea that if it is fun, creative and engaging, it ain't work.

On another note, many of my indexes are for Entrepreneur Press, who publish what I see as a form of entreprenurial self-help books. They are templates for starting your own small business, from antiquing to lawyering. I never follow the sound principles for starting a small biz (biz plan, marketing, etc), but they are good outlines. I often describe the work I do, when the actual book is unegaging, as laying bricks, in other words, not at all creative, but I suspect equivalent to your typing job.

My most creative hours have been spent blogging (temporarily suspended)in a blogging community called motime. Many smart, anonymous, and wonderful writers afoot in the blogosphere. But I suspect if I went at blogging with the intent of making money, it would cause me to self-sensor and see it as a chore, killing the very spirit of the endeavor for me. Maybe not. Are there blogger's agents yet?