Prolegomena to Any Future Evolving Model of Compensated Labor in a Service-Oriented Society

Cherry Blossoms Tinted

I do my best today to convince our Office Manager that actually coming to work is the least important part of our jobs.

Think of it this way. The social and economic aspects of the world run on agreed, consensual standards. A two-dollar fare gets you on the subway in my fair city because someone sets that as the price point, and though we may all hate him, we don’t actually kill him. If we do kill him, the next one along sets it at a buck fifty, crosses his fingers, and hopes for the best. The rule isn’t external, it’s self-imposed.

As it is, we didn’t exactly say yes, but they’re all still breathing. Which sometimes amounts to the same thing.

So I’m thinking that if we all just stay home, things should work out fine for everybody. The thing is, ALL of us have to do it. If Smitty from Accounting comes in while the rest of us are out and makes snarky remarks for the rest of the month, then the whole thing is off. Everyone has to do it all at once. And then later we can all say, yeah, I was there, wassamatta dinya see me? Whole day, just like every day. Except really, we are all at the movies.

The Office Manager looks at me blankly. “I don’t get it,” she says. “Where would the money come from?”

I shrug. “What do you mean?” I say. “Where does it come from now? It’s all just arbitrary.”

“No,” she says. “No. You work, and then you get paid. If you don’t work, you don’t get paid.”

“Right,” I say. “But why? What’s the difference? They could pay us just the same, except we wouldn’t be here. And if no one else is at their jobs either, how would anyone know? The money isn’t coming from anywhere in particular anyway, it’s just going back and forth. Except instead of sitting here we’d all be at the movies, which is ideal because it’s dark in there, and you can get by without seeing the other people you might be working with if you weren’t at the movies.”

There’s a pause, and as she looks at me her brow furrows. “Aha,” she says. “Don’t you have something to do? I could always find you something to do.”

And there goes another revolution, crushed by the ruling elites before it has time to get off the ground. Note to self: Maybe wait until next week to discuss vacation time.

About Linus

The man behind the curtain. But couldn't we get a nicer curtain?
This entry was posted in General Musings. Bookmark the permalink.