Why you should ditch ‘follow your passion’ careers advice

 Emma Jacobs in The FT 

“Work is supposed to bring us fulfilment, pleasure, meaning, even joy,” writes Sarah Jaffe in her book, Work Won’t Love You Back. “The admonishment of a thousand inspirational social media posts to ‘do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life’ has become folk wisdom,” she continues. 

Such platitudes suggest an essential truth “stretching back to our caveperson ancestors”. But these fallacies create “stress, anxiety and loneliness”. In short, the “labour of love . . . is a con”. This is the starting point of Ms Jaffe’s book, which goes on to show how the myth permeates diverse jobs and sectors.

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The book serves as a timely reminder of the importance of re-evaluating that relationship. “The global pandemic made the brutality of the workplace more visible,” the author tells me over the phone from Brooklyn, New York. Ms Jaffe, who is a freelance journalist specialising in work, points out that the past year of job losses, anxiety about redundancy, and excessive workloads has demonstrated to workers the truth: their job does not love them.  

Work is under scrutiny. The economic fallout of the pandemic has made a great many people desperate for paid work, disillusioned with their jobs or burnt out — and sometimes all three. It has illuminated the stark differences between those who can work from the safety of their homes and those who cannot, including shop workers, carers and medical professionals, who have to put themselves in potentially hazardous situations, often for meagre pay. The idea of self-sacrifice, and that you should put your clients, your patients or your students before yourself, Ms Jaffe says, “gets laid on very thick [with] teachers or nurses”. 

Yet there are those in another category — artists and precarious academics — for whom work has always been deemed intrinsically rewarding and a form of self-expression. They are said to be lucky to have such jobs, because plenty of others are clamouring to take their place. Even here, the pandemic has changed perceptions. Social restrictions have curbed some of the aspects of white-collar work that made it rewarding, such as travel and meeting interesting people, that perhaps masked the repetition of daily tasks, the insecurity or poor conditions. 

Meanwhile, Ms Jaffe says, a small number of workers, such as those who have been furloughed on full pay, have been given the time to think: what do I do with the time I used to devote to work? “It’s so beaten into us that we have to be productive,” says Ms Jaffe. “I've seen so many memes that are like, ‘if you haven’t written a novel in lockdown, [you’re] doing it wrong’.” 

Among the affluent, work used to be something done by others, yet there have long been philosophical debates about whether it could be enjoyable. In the 1800s, Ms Jaffe points out in her book, the British designer and social campaigner William Morris pitched “three hopes” about work: “hope of rest, hope of product, hope of pleasure in the work itself”. 

The decline of industrial jobs in the west, and the rise of the service economy, emphasised working for love. Nursing, food service and home healthcare, “draw on skills presumed to come naturally to women; they are seen as extensions of the caring work they are expected to do for their families”, Ms Jaffe writes. Among white-collar workers, the fetishisation of long hours in the late 1980s and 90s was accompanied by an individualistic capitalism. For many industries — notably, media — the idea of work as a form of self-actualisation intensified as security decreased. 

Ms Jaffe says that there are overlapping experiences shared by those in the service sector who sit behind desks and those who stand on their feet all day. For example, the notion of the workplace as a family is a refrain in offices but it is most explicit for nannies. In the book, she tells the story of Seally, a nanny in New York who decided to live with her employers between Mondays and Fridays when the pandemic struck — leaving her own kids at home. 

Seally told Ms Jaffe that she was worried about her own kids, whether they were doing their schoolwork properly: “At least I call and say, ‘Make sure you do your work’.” But she appreciates the importance of her job. “I love my work,” she said, “because my work is the silk thread that holds society together, making all other work possible”. The pandemic has reinforced the idea that the home is also a workplace and the author wants professionals who hire domestic workers and nannies to understand that and compensate accordingly for the critical role they play in facilitating their ability to do their jobs. 

Perhaps the posterchild of insecure white-collar workers are interns, who have traditionally been unpaid. (In the UK, interns are eligible for pay if they are classed as a worker.) Too often, the book argues, interns have been given meaningless work with the prospect of a contract dangled in front of them, to no avail. Working conditions can also be poor — although few are as horrifying as the North Carolina zoo intern Ms Jaffe cites in the book who was killed by an escaped lion, “whose family told reporters she died ‘following her passion’ on her fourth unpaid internship”. The conditions for interns may be set back by the pandemic as so many graduates — and older workers hoping to switch industries — fight for jobs. 

Ms Jaffe steers clear of advice. This is not a book that will guide readers on finding a job worthy of their devotion, though she knows that some glib tips would boost sales. “You’re told that you should love your job. Then if you don’t love your job, there’s something wrong with you,” she says. “[The problem] won’t be solved by quitting and finding a job you like better, or a different career, or deciding to just take a job that you don’t like.” 

What she hopes is that people who have a nagging sense that their “job kind of sucks, they don't love it” will realise they are not alone. But they can do something about it, for instance joining a union or pushing for fewer hours. This needs to be supported by “a societal reckoning with jobs”. Do people need, for example, 24-hour access to McDonald’s and supermarkets, she asks? 

Ms Jaffe wants people to imagine a society which is not organised “emotionally and temporally” around work. As she writes in the book: “What I believe, and want you to believe, too, is that love is too big and beautiful and grand and messy and human a thing to be wasted on a temporary fact of life like work.”

Unpaid interns charged £300 for a job reference by thinktank Civitatis

From The Guardian on 11/01/2015

A former aide to a Liberal Democrat peer has been condemned for charging former unpaid interns at his thinktank “£300 a go” for employment references.

Jan Mortier, who describes himself as a former consultant to Lord Garden, a one-time defence spokesman for Nick Clegg’s party, has admitted that he charges former unpaid trainees at his Civitatis International organisation for references, but denied that they had been interns, on the basis that they had been “trained directly” by him.

Civitatis International advertises itself as a private foundation “committed to promoting peace, dialogue and co-operation between nations and civilisations”, and has submitted evidence to parliamentary select committees as a thinktank. Until a year ago it ran a “junior associates” programme under which young people were charged over £1,600 for a three-month “unique experience in project management training at our international secretariat in the City of London that was instituted by us because British universities are not giving the skills or experience necessary to help young people secure careers in the policy sector”.

The junior associates programme, which did not offer a recognised qualification at the end or a guaranteed job, had been advertised on a website called Internwise, among others, which promotes itself as a “tool ideal to meet employers and gain some work experience”. At least one former junior associate has posted an online CV describing his role at Civitatis International as an “internship”. Civitatis invites “successful” junior associates to pay an additional £400 to £600 a year to become fellows of the organisation, which it describes as a private members’ club for “future leaders”.

Now it has emerged that Mortier, 37, has written to those who had been on the junior associate programme to inform them they must pay a £300 fee each time they want an employment reference.

Tanya de Grunwald, the founder of Graduate Fog, a graduate careers blog and a campaigner against the exploitation of the young, last night condemned Mortier and his organisation and said it was an extreme example of how the hopes of young people were abused. There has been a huge growth in unpaid internships in recent times, with an estimated 100,000 places advertised a year.

De Grunwald said: “Employing unpaid interns is bad enough, but charging them for a reference when they leave is appalling. We keep being assured that the graduate job market is picking up, but this case shows that there are still dark corners of it where unscrupulous employers find they can take advantage of young jobseekers’ desperation and naivety. This guy should be ashamed.”

Civitatis’s website says it was founded in 2012. A company with the same name, of which Mortier was a director, was struck off Companies House records in 2009 after being dissolved. It is not registered with the Charities Commission. Mortier declined to comment on the organisation’s tax status.

Civitatis’s website is advertising a summer school at a cost of £400 for the week. Those who attend are promised a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for students around the world to gain employable skills”. It claims that it can offer “an introduction to the thinking of the Club of Rome”, the global thinktank where Mortier claims on his Linkedin profile to have “advised the secretary general on various issues”. A spokesman for the Club of Rome told the Observer: “Jan Mortier was an intern at the Club of Rome for five months in 2010. He left a month early following a dispute. There is no link between the Club of Rome and Civitatis International.” A spokesman for Civitatis said Mortier was a “full member of the Club of Rome EU chapter”, an affiliated Belgian organisation.

Civitatis’s website claims that “for a decade, Civitatis International has been coaching our junior associates to get policy jobs paying £24-£32,000 per year with a 100% success rate”. When approached by the Observer, Mortier admitted that “one or two” alumni might not have reached their goals yet. He said the £300 fee for an employment reference was a “fair administrative fee”.

Campaigners report Tony Blair's office over use of unpaid interns

Graduate Fog passes evidence of possible minimum wage infractions to HM Revenue and Customs

• Shiv Malik
• guardian.co.uk, Wednesday 31 October 2012 10.24 GMT

Tony Blair's private office says it supports its unpaid interns by paying travel and lunch expenses. Photograph: Antony Dickson/AFP/Getty Images

 

Tony Blair's private office may face investigation by tax authorities for breach of national minimum wage laws over the use of unpaid interns.

The Office of Tony Blair, which helps administrate the former prime minister's consultancy and diplomatic interests, confirmed that despite its non-charitable status it uses unpaid interns for three months at a time.

Evidence of possible minimum wage infractions, gathered by the careers website Graduate Fog has been passed to HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC).

This includes an email from Blair's office setting out tasks which interns are expected to undertake during the full time role, including answering phones, managing meeting rooms and sorting and sending the post.

Recent employment tribunal rulings have used evidence such as set tasks and responsibilities as one way to differentiate between volunteer and paid worker status.

In a statement to the Guardian, Blair's office said that all its interns were volunteers and that they supported them by paying travel and lunch expenses.

One would-be intern has complained that despite passing an interview process, which included a timed 90 minute exam, he was rejected by the office because he was unable to work unpaid for the full five days.

When the graduate asked office staff if he could reduce his time from four to five days a week so he could continue to support himself financially with a part-time job, Blair's office eventually wrote back to say the position had been filled by another intern.

Writing to confirm that "four days a week availability did not suit your needs" office staff replied: "Sorry for not getting back to you sooner but the role has now been filled by someone who was available for the full 5 days."

Speaking to the Guardian, the 22-year-old, who did not want to be named, said: "From what I can tell, they are trying to staff the office with that classic, rotate your interns; get the interns to do the office admin, don't pay them a thing and, after three months, kick them out and get someone else in. That's what it sounded like to me."

"Through the minimum wage legislation," he said, Blair "had given people, young people especially ... a decent wage. But he's not even providing it for his own business. It's completely outrageous. I can't think of anything more two-faced to be honest."

Blair, who has made millions since departing as prime minister in 2007, operates numerous charities, diplomatic initiatives and business consultancies including Tony Blair Associates.

After an interview with Blair this summer, the Financial Times estimated his annual income at £20m.
It is understood that he continues to draw on a public allowance worth £110,000 per annum to support his good works and a prime ministerial pension of £70,000.

HMRC said they were unable to specifically comment on individual cases but gave a statement confirming they always act on allegations passed to them.

"We ensure that employers comply with the national minimum wage rules across the board. Where we have reason to believe the rules are being abused we will investigate. We always act on allegations of NMW abuse."

In a statement Blair's office said they value their interns "very highly".

"The Office of Tony Blair is not a charity," they confirmed. "Each internship lasts for around three months and is designed to give young people valuable experience in a high profile and fast moving work environment," they said adding, "our interns are volunteers."

A spokesperson for the London School of Economics, who previously advertised unpaid internships for Blair's profit making businesses, said they no longer do so.

"LSE is fully compliant with its legal obligations in relation to internships; furthermore we support the advice on internships issued by the UCU and NUS in 2011.

"LSE Careers is not advertising opportunities of any kind in the office of Tony Blair or with Tony Blair Associates and does not work with any third parties that facilitate unpaid internships."
Tanya de Grunwald, founder of Graduate Fog said: "Too many employers have convinced themselves that experience, plus a few quid for a sandwich and the bus fare, is an acceptable form of payment – we just never expected one of those employers to be the man who introduced the minimum wage law.

"Perhaps hanging out with some of the richest people on the planet has made it hard for Blair to remember how it feels to struggle to make ends meet every month on a meagre wage. What's more, for a man so obsessed with his legacy, it is astonishing that he seems to have 'sold out' over one of the few things he is remembered fondly for."

Bullying Interns the Goldman Sachs way

Back on 12 June 2000, as the dot-com bubble was deflating, young Greg Smith was all puffed up, clutching his "extra-large coffee" and looking up "at the formidable tower that housed Goldman Sach's equities trading headquarters" in New York. "Holy shit," he thought, as he arrived for the first day of his summer internship at the Wall Street bank.

More than a decade later, on 14 March 2012, not long after a different financial bubble had burst, the remark may well have risen in a hush over the Goldman dealing room as wide-eyed traders poured over an opinion piece in The New York Times. Title? "Why I'm Leaving Goldman Sachs". Author? Greg Smith. "Today is my last day at Goldman Sachs," Mr Smith proclaimed. Over 12 years, he said, he had understood what made the bank tick. "And I can honestly say that the environment is now as toxic and destructive as I have ever seen it."

Now, Mr Smith, who had risen to become a Goldman executive director and head of the firm's US equity derivatives business in Europe, the Middle East and Africa before quitting, is preparing tell us the full story. According to reports, his biting commentary on Goldman won him a book deal and a cool $1.5m (£930,000) advance, with the product of his labours, imaginatively titled Why I Left Goldman Sachs, set to hit the shelves on 22 October. The night before, he is reported to be planning to break his self-imposed hiatus from the public square with a US television interview. Ahead of the launch, Goldman yesterday said it had conducted a detailed review of Mr Smith's claims and found no evidence to support them.

But as we near the release date, it seems the firm's President Gary Cohn, who along with chief executive Lloyd Blankfein merited special mention in Mr Smith's op-ed for losing "hold of the firm's culture on their watch", is likely to be among those waiting in line for a copy of the tome. "I probably will read it," he said during an interview on Bloomberg television earlier this month. If Mr Cohn wants an early look, the first chapter was released on the Apple iBookstore this week. Titled "I Don't Know, But I'll Find Out", it offers a glimpse of Mr Smith's first days in the belly of the "great vampire squid", as the bank was memorably dubbed by Rolling Stone.

Back then Mr Smith was a dedicated convert to the Goldman cause. That summer's day, the 21-year-old had no premonition of what – in his view – Goldman would become, and how he would go on to feel. Young Mr Smith, then on a scholarship at Stanford, was, to his mind, justifiably proud. "The selection process for any type of job at Goldman Sachs is extremely rigorous. On average, only one in 45 people... who apply for a summer internship, or a full-time job, get an offer," he says. To get ahead, he'd prepped hard for the interview. "I'd read The Culture of Success, a history of the firm by Lisa Endlich, a former Goldman VP," he reveals. Who doesn't, right?

With a toe in the door, Mr Smith was issued with a folding stool and a "big orange ID badge" on a "bright orange lanyard" – status markers to remind an intern that he or she was mere "plebe, a newbie, a punk-kid". "It was innately demeaning," he says, recounting how interns had to carry around the stools "at all times because there were no extra chairs at the trading desks".

The internship itself was demanding. "You came to work at 5:45 or 6:00 or 6:30 in the morning," Mr Smith recalls. Goldman interns were put through two "Open Meetings" a week, where "a partner would stand at the front of the room with a list of names and call on people at will with questions on the firm's storied culture, its history, on the stock market".

"Depending on the personal style of the people in charge, the meetings could be brutal. They were always intense," Mr Smith says, recalling how, on one occasion, an intern was rebuked by a VP for not knowing enough about Goldman's stance on Microsoft shares. "What is our price target? What are the catalysts coming up? How has the stock been trading? Come on," said VP barks, according to the account. The hapless intern "starts to tear up and runs out of the room".

Smith also recalls the treatment handed out to an intern after a managing director ordered a cheddar cheese sandwich and was presented with a cheddar cheese salad. The boss "opened the container, looked at the salad, looked up at the kid, closed the container and threw it in the trash". "It was a bit harsh, but it was also a teaching moment," Mr Smith writes.

The anecdotes chime with the caricature of Wall Street as a laddish jungle where ritual hazing is just part of doing business. But at this early stage there is none of the greed that Mr Smith spoke of in his op-ed – he claimed, for instance, that people in the firm "callously talk about ripping their clients off". Instead, the gruelling intern routine is presented as a way of training new initiates to be "truthful, resourceful, collaborative".

Tantalisingly, though, Chapter 5 is titled "Welcome to the Casino".