Excellent article. Burnout is real. I left a stressful job last year for another job, but at a school (K-12) that is much smaller, fewer students. Also, a rural commute, not one on a busy freeway like my previous position, where I would enter school already stressed from the drive.
I'm surprised how many people aren't aware of burnout and just grind through it. I used to be like that, too. It's not healthy, mentally or physically.
Yes, I like how Joshua addressed the emotional aspect of working. The last couple jobs I left I was tearful for the good times I had. Nevertheless, each move was a good one.
I actually enjoy work, being around people, and seeing a job well done. I just can no longer do it in stressful environments.
Thanks for this. For some, even entertaining the idea of burnout is a luxury. My grandfather worked a union job at a local sawmill for his whole life, and they sometimes went on strike for better pay, but I'm not sure they negotiated less working hours. If we didn't have a second income, I may never have rolled the dice in giving up tenure. But you're right -- it takes energy to acknowledge that you're burned out and then it takes courage to do something about it. My heart goes out to those who can't find that extra energy or can't accept the risk.
Young people love the term "grind." It worries me.
A senior high school student gave a great presentation to our school counselor group last year. His senior project was on school counselor burnout. I thought it was top-notch. After his presentation a 20-something counselor was heard saying, "There's no such thing as burnout." Wow, didn't know where to go with this other than that she'll find out the hard way. Education schools could also do a better job of addressing this with their students ... heck, all majors could. "Grinding" is not good, I'm done with that, it really damaged my physical health.
The only advice I give to those living with grief is to do whatever non-harmful things it takes to find comfort and perhaps even hopefulness. The people who love us will still love us, no matter what we do. Just for myself, I have found that grief can slowly excise some of the worst or needless parts of us.
On the topic of burn-out, I come from the perspective of being in a family that for hundreds of years has been one of small business owners, primarily farmers. Within those multi-generational small businesses everyone had a role to play in family survival and there was - is - no such thing as "work life." There is simply "life." Most farmers and many small business people feel a sense of purpose, and in some cases even feel a noble calling. The land owns them. If they lose their farms they might give up their lives.
I imagine burn out happens when people do not have much control over their work lives. I tell my wife that my boss is a jackass, but at least my boss (me) can't fire me.
Yes, I remember volunteering at a farm during my first sabbatical and witnessing the power of that calling. I really believe that teachers and professors view their classrooms as akin to those fields, and burnout begins, as you say, when pressure from outside or top-down control takes away that autonomy. I felt a noble calling to my work for many years. Even with that sense of purpose, though, wouldn't you say that a life that includes a home-based business in it still needs balance? I know you create space for yourself in that life for daydreaming and horsing around, too :).
I daydream and horse around most of the day. Always have. When people ask me what I "do," I tell them "a little this, a little that, but none of those."
This is a really helpful exploration of the deeper burnout problem. I was often given the advice that, as a faculty member, I should protect myself and my time by being less invested in my work. But that creates an awful tradeoff: more reasonable hours in exchange for less meaningful work. A friend and wonderful educator, Chris Osmond describes the problem we have of being asked to constantly give more in times of crisis. We find meaning in our work, so we want to give more, and that leads to mental spiral that he summarizes this way:
"You have asked me to do that before.
A part of me wants to — because I am made whole by being of service.
That’s sacred, and I want to honor it.
But when I have honored it in the past, you have exploited it.
And so I won’t do that again.
But a part of me wants to.
But I just can’t anymore."
There's no way for an individual to escape from the dilemma of a system that is damaging the moral rewards of work. I"m so glad to see that you've found another way to search for what is most rewarding.
And I totally agree that protecting oneself too much diminishes purpose. Most of us, when driven by a strong sense of purpose, instinctively know when to give ourselves a break. Or those in our lives will nudge us to find the "off" switch. When the workplace takes away that natural choice to disengage, and autonomy begins to fade, I think the exhaustion begins to register more. I can often lose track of three hours while writing in a flow state. But if someone were asking me to do it relentlessly, there'd be no flow to be found.
This is powerful: "There's no way for an individual to escape from the dilemma of a system that is damaging the moral rewards of work." No way to escape except to disengage. I hope your new adventures are yielding rewards, as well!
Aug 30, 2022·edited Aug 30, 2022Liked by Joshua Doležal
I love seeing your road to recovery. So many of us had to put on a brave face and go it alone, and I think many have never recovered fully. There's a serious problem in our society if those at the forefront of knowledge go through a cycle of grief when they leave the official home of the knoweldge industry.
Also, we should all beware any industry, coaching services or ahem groups that make a living from this debacle. Exploiting a problem is not the same as helping to fix it.
I agree. It's not the grief that troubles me as much as the fact that for many of us it was premature. I, personally, could have continued happily in my profession for another twenty years if at least 75% of how I spent my time matched up with my why. I think recovery is harder when you feel that you did once have your dream job and then it changed under your feet.
Great post, Josh. It's funny, but for my part I don't have any lingering angst about taking early retirement. I'm not really missing teaching or my admin work as people post their Day 1 updates. I rather feel like I did a damn good job in both arenas while I was there, and now I'm happy to be on to other challenges that do not require hours of answering "urgent" emails.
I'm happy to hear that your transition has felt more natural. I wonder if "retirement" might be the salient difference? We're not terribly far off in age, and I am also "emeritus" now, but I haven't really been able to contemplate my move with the closure that I associate with retirement. Although I know lots of people who grieve even then. Maybe it's that no-nonsense upbringing you describe in Weeds? :)
I have been enjoying your texts so much. I live in Brazil (and am Brazilian) and what you describe about the academic employment makeup is somewhat different here. We go through public examination to get tenure in public universities and, in the private higher ed institutions, pay is low and job security is tethered to enrollment. There is much similarity in what concerns the pressure to justify the liberal arts in higher ed and admin overload. It seems that the economic paradigm is the one truly globalized ruling power. Thanks for sharing your story. It truly lights the way for us who are struggling academics. Cheers! Melina
How interesting, Melina. I'll admit that I spent some of my summer wishing I could move to Prague, but the academics I spoke to there felt much the same as you. As you say, globalization has projected the burnout culture of capitalism across the world. I suppose my writing life is a tiny act of defiance. All the best to you!
Excellent article. Burnout is real. I left a stressful job last year for another job, but at a school (K-12) that is much smaller, fewer students. Also, a rural commute, not one on a busy freeway like my previous position, where I would enter school already stressed from the drive.
I'm surprised how many people aren't aware of burnout and just grind through it. I used to be like that, too. It's not healthy, mentally or physically.
Yes, I like how Joshua addressed the emotional aspect of working. The last couple jobs I left I was tearful for the good times I had. Nevertheless, each move was a good one.
I actually enjoy work, being around people, and seeing a job well done. I just can no longer do it in stressful environments.
Thanks for this. For some, even entertaining the idea of burnout is a luxury. My grandfather worked a union job at a local sawmill for his whole life, and they sometimes went on strike for better pay, but I'm not sure they negotiated less working hours. If we didn't have a second income, I may never have rolled the dice in giving up tenure. But you're right -- it takes energy to acknowledge that you're burned out and then it takes courage to do something about it. My heart goes out to those who can't find that extra energy or can't accept the risk.
Young people love the term "grind." It worries me.
A senior high school student gave a great presentation to our school counselor group last year. His senior project was on school counselor burnout. I thought it was top-notch. After his presentation a 20-something counselor was heard saying, "There's no such thing as burnout." Wow, didn't know where to go with this other than that she'll find out the hard way. Education schools could also do a better job of addressing this with their students ... heck, all majors could. "Grinding" is not good, I'm done with that, it really damaged my physical health.
The only advice I give to those living with grief is to do whatever non-harmful things it takes to find comfort and perhaps even hopefulness. The people who love us will still love us, no matter what we do. Just for myself, I have found that grief can slowly excise some of the worst or needless parts of us.
On the topic of burn-out, I come from the perspective of being in a family that for hundreds of years has been one of small business owners, primarily farmers. Within those multi-generational small businesses everyone had a role to play in family survival and there was - is - no such thing as "work life." There is simply "life." Most farmers and many small business people feel a sense of purpose, and in some cases even feel a noble calling. The land owns them. If they lose their farms they might give up their lives.
I imagine burn out happens when people do not have much control over their work lives. I tell my wife that my boss is a jackass, but at least my boss (me) can't fire me.
Yes, I remember volunteering at a farm during my first sabbatical and witnessing the power of that calling. I really believe that teachers and professors view their classrooms as akin to those fields, and burnout begins, as you say, when pressure from outside or top-down control takes away that autonomy. I felt a noble calling to my work for many years. Even with that sense of purpose, though, wouldn't you say that a life that includes a home-based business in it still needs balance? I know you create space for yourself in that life for daydreaming and horsing around, too :).
I daydream and horse around most of the day. Always have. When people ask me what I "do," I tell them "a little this, a little that, but none of those."
This is a really helpful exploration of the deeper burnout problem. I was often given the advice that, as a faculty member, I should protect myself and my time by being less invested in my work. But that creates an awful tradeoff: more reasonable hours in exchange for less meaningful work. A friend and wonderful educator, Chris Osmond describes the problem we have of being asked to constantly give more in times of crisis. We find meaning in our work, so we want to give more, and that leads to mental spiral that he summarizes this way:
"You have asked me to do that before.
A part of me wants to — because I am made whole by being of service.
That’s sacred, and I want to honor it.
But when I have honored it in the past, you have exploited it.
And so I won’t do that again.
But a part of me wants to.
But I just can’t anymore."
There's no way for an individual to escape from the dilemma of a system that is damaging the moral rewards of work. I"m so glad to see that you've found another way to search for what is most rewarding.
Thanks for the Osmond lead. Here's that essay, in case anyone is following along in the comments: https://medium.com/@chrisosmond/the-shock-and-the-sacred-and-the-shock-818e04f77b24.
And I totally agree that protecting oneself too much diminishes purpose. Most of us, when driven by a strong sense of purpose, instinctively know when to give ourselves a break. Or those in our lives will nudge us to find the "off" switch. When the workplace takes away that natural choice to disengage, and autonomy begins to fade, I think the exhaustion begins to register more. I can often lose track of three hours while writing in a flow state. But if someone were asking me to do it relentlessly, there'd be no flow to be found.
This is powerful: "There's no way for an individual to escape from the dilemma of a system that is damaging the moral rewards of work." No way to escape except to disengage. I hope your new adventures are yielding rewards, as well!
I love seeing your road to recovery. So many of us had to put on a brave face and go it alone, and I think many have never recovered fully. There's a serious problem in our society if those at the forefront of knowledge go through a cycle of grief when they leave the official home of the knoweldge industry.
Also, we should all beware any industry, coaching services or ahem groups that make a living from this debacle. Exploiting a problem is not the same as helping to fix it.
I agree. It's not the grief that troubles me as much as the fact that for many of us it was premature. I, personally, could have continued happily in my profession for another twenty years if at least 75% of how I spent my time matched up with my why. I think recovery is harder when you feel that you did once have your dream job and then it changed under your feet.
Great post, Josh. It's funny, but for my part I don't have any lingering angst about taking early retirement. I'm not really missing teaching or my admin work as people post their Day 1 updates. I rather feel like I did a damn good job in both arenas while I was there, and now I'm happy to be on to other challenges that do not require hours of answering "urgent" emails.
I'm happy to hear that your transition has felt more natural. I wonder if "retirement" might be the salient difference? We're not terribly far off in age, and I am also "emeritus" now, but I haven't really been able to contemplate my move with the closure that I associate with retirement. Although I know lots of people who grieve even then. Maybe it's that no-nonsense upbringing you describe in Weeds? :)
I have been enjoying your texts so much. I live in Brazil (and am Brazilian) and what you describe about the academic employment makeup is somewhat different here. We go through public examination to get tenure in public universities and, in the private higher ed institutions, pay is low and job security is tethered to enrollment. There is much similarity in what concerns the pressure to justify the liberal arts in higher ed and admin overload. It seems that the economic paradigm is the one truly globalized ruling power. Thanks for sharing your story. It truly lights the way for us who are struggling academics. Cheers! Melina
How interesting, Melina. I'll admit that I spent some of my summer wishing I could move to Prague, but the academics I spoke to there felt much the same as you. As you say, globalization has projected the burnout culture of capitalism across the world. I suppose my writing life is a tiny act of defiance. All the best to you!