"U.S. workers have gotten way less productive. No one is sure why."
This recent headline from the Washington Post made me laugh until I cried. Then I put my face in my hands and screamed a little bit.
Just a little bit. Because after almost three years of pandemic in a country with threadbare worker support and political divisions so deep that we cannot agree that trying to hang the vice president is a bad thing, I am very, very tired of screaming.
According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, productivity took a nosedive in the first half of 2022 and that has, apparently, left experts perplexed. Especially in light of how, according to the piece, productivity "took off to levels not seen in decades when the coronavirus forced an overnight switch to remote work."
I am no economist, but I am a worker, and this feels like less of a conundrum than an answer: People are freaking tired, man.
Also, they can now do other things, like go to the movies or on vacation.
During the early days of the pandemic, when we were all locked down and obsessively monitoring our sense of smell, there was nothing else to do but worry and work. Well, some of us could make banana bread, but medical and other frontline workers most certainly could not. And with so many businesses shutting down, the fear of being fired was real. Those who did not lose their jobs worked like hell to keep them; those who lost their jobs and then managed to find new ones did exactly the same thing.
Now many of us are exhausted and perhaps a bit angry: about how companies that instantly offloaded so many employees with little or no severance are acting so surprised that new workers aren't flooding back; about how we've been working so hard for the same or, thanks to inflation, less money.
Or did I miss my Bureau of Labor Statistics increased national productivity bonus last year?
Obviously, because this is America, these stats do not reflect all the unpaid labor, including family care, which I guarantee has seen an uptick in "productivity." Millions are still coping with loss, new infections and the impact of "long COVID." Most of the women who were forced to leave their jobs to care for children have returned, but many of the child care workers have not. So that reluctance to go back to the office everyone keeps talking about is, in many cases, less about our affinity for sweatpants and more about having to simultaneously work two jobs, only one of which is counted.
Then there is the emotional toll. According to the World Health Organization, the pandemic triggered a worldwide 25% increase in anxiety and depression, which is not at all surprising considering that 6.9 million people have died of COVID-19, more than a million of them in the United States.
"Keep Calm and Carry On" is all well and good in the heart of a crisis, but we have just lived — are still living through — a traumatic event of global proportions, and even the country that originated that stoic phrase is losing its ... stiff upper lip.
So while it is great that everyone was out in force again this Halloween, at some point we need to acknowledge that collective trauma can have a collective impact. Including on worker productivity.
Everywhere you look, people are discussing burnout, malaise or, as some have begun to call it, languishing. Two years ago, physicians were already talking about "disaster fatigue." Not the "I'm tired of wearing a mask so I won't" variety but the tendency of severe stress, with its trumpet blast of adrenaline and cortisol, to leave people feeling drained and exhausted.
During a crisis that has lasted years, many of our hormonal dispensaries were in perpetual overdrive, and now we're in the "fatigue" part. But sure, be surprised that worker productivity is down.
Add to that a political climate in which any hopes that the pandemic would close at least some of the gaps dividing Americans were dashed almost immediately. Instead we are heading into midterm elections that many see as a referendum on democracy.
That's not at all distracting.
The pandemic may have increased our awareness of the importance of mental health, including the need to find a balance between work and other parts of the human experience. But it also exposed a lot of ugly things about this country, including but not limited to the lack of healthcare, decent housing, essential nutrition and economic support, as well as the ongoing problems of racism, antisemitism and class division.
Oh, and our continued arguments over climate change. Oh, and the stripping of women's rights.
When a country forces so many portions of its populace into the streets to fight for basic human rights, it should not be surprised when worker productivity falls. It's hard to be productive when you are in a constant state of fear and outrage.
Even the recent photos of the "smiling" sun turned out to be potentially bad news: The features of what looked like a smiley face are, in reality, coronal holes sending particles out into the atmosphere that could wind up damaging electrical grids and communication channels.
Terrific. How am I supposed to get back to work with the sun smiling its evil smile? Wouldn't it be healthier for me to take some of the vacation days I didn't use for a year and a half because there was no place to safely go?
Adversity is and always will be a large part of the human condition; survival, never mind success, has always taken a lot of hard work. But work comes in many forms (including taking the rest needed to continue working), and much of it has little to do with the kind of productivity monitored by the Bureau of Labor Statistics.
Of course productivity is important to the economy, especially as we struggle with post-pandemic inflation, but pretending there's some great mystery about its recent decline doesn't help. Instead we need to examine actual reality to find out how businesses can help their workers meet reasonable expectations. Blaming it on the millennials or work-from-home advocates or whomever is not the answer.
This country, this world, has been through a lot in the last few years — is going through a lot at this very minute. I don't know if we need a national day of mourning or celebration, but we need something, personally or collectively, to acknowledge the complicated and often conflicting experience of surviving a pandemic.
What we don't need is a bunch of people wondering why we're being less productive in the workplace as if the answer weren't right in front of them.
