In a recent article (Is it possible to break the cycle of burnout for good?, 17 April), I was struck by the recurring use of a metaphor equating intolerable levels of work stress to an endemic disease. As a cognitive linguist, I think a lot about the ways in which we use metaphors to understand complex social issues, and how the use of certain metaphors can have unforeseen consequences. So each time the term “immunity” appeared, my heart sank a little.
Immunity, in its literal biological sense, refers to the “condition of being able to resist a particular disease”. We can develop biological immunity naturally by contracting and recovering from the disease, or induce immunity through vaccination. In either case, immunity is developed because the disease itself cannot be stopped or prevented. Our only hope is to enable our body to better cope with the disease when it is (inevitably) encountered.
When we apply this to burnout, it is understood as a disease out in the world. We cannot control its cause, nor prevent its spread. We can only prepare our bodies for the inevitable encounter. The thing is, burnout isn’t the disease itself, it is a symptom of something that can be prevented and controlled. It is a symptom of an unhealthy work culture, a social construct that can be deconstructed.
If we insist on using an illness metaphor for burnout, let’s try this instead: burnout is a symptomatic response to the bioweapons used in maintaining an inhumane work culture. While the bioweapons are still used, we need protection from them, but the goal is to stop using the weapons. The goal is to build a culture of sustainable and fulfilling work in which the practices that lead to unbearable stress and burnout are no longer tolerated.
Schuyler Laparle
Lecturer, Tilburg University, the Netherlands
• Your article on burnout neglects to shed light on the systemic and multifactorial issues fully rooted in the commodification of caring. As a psychotherapist who specialises in burnout recovery in caregiving professionals, I see this every day in practice. The commodification of caring prioritises financial gain over personal freedom and autonomy, and is the ugly underbelly of burnout culture. It damages lives and livelihoods of professions called to give – such as our healthcare providers and teachers – and kills the soul of giving.
Those of us with a calling to help others are given narrow financially and emotionally expensive paths to be educated in order to do the work we’re called to do. Yet when we finally receive our diplomas or certifications, we must maintain our value through expensive, time-intensive continuing education with pressure to be of increasing value to the system.
This penalises caregiving professionals who don’t have the money, time or resources, and also limits anyone who doesn’t come from financial stability, generational wealth, or cultural or racial privilege. Hierarchical structures prevent folks from moving freely within the system, stifling collaboration and creativity, and minimising authentic and safe communities for the productivity and grind culture that dismisses autonomy and agency among those doing the caring.
It isn’t just about negotiating our sense of success, finding ways to get more time off, or even being more self-aware. We are meant to be in collaborative, creative, connected communities.
If our vocational work offers a sense of belonging and connection – despite terrible pay, lack of time off and increased pressures for performance – we often will stay against our wellbeing and reasoning. As workers, we deserve to be resourced in a way that sustains us, gives us agency and allows us to flourish.
Allie Kochert
York, Pennsylvania, US
