Working ourselves to death...

After a gap of about seven months, I find myself once more back in the pleasant environs of The Jolly Frog in Kanchanaburi, Thailand. Actually, to be a tad more accurate, it has now been renamed to The Smiley Frog and, to a small extent at least, revamped. It still attracts some of the same sorts of characters that made it such an interesting place to stay as before, but clearly not as many as previously. As I write these words at 10:30 on a Thursday morning in the airy restaurant of The Frog, I find myself alone but for one other guest who, in similar fashion, is tapping away at a laptop to her heart’s content.
Staff outnumber customers by a ratio of about 4:1 in the restaurant and, subjectively at least, it feels as if they do throughout the establishment. They seem, for the most part, to wander around relatively aimlessly trying to look busy but with very little useful to actually do. Thailand is, at least at times, a very hot and humid place and this seems to have lead to a kind of widely accepted, and very pragmatic, lethargy. Few people rush anywhere, apart from perhaps on the roads where one wonders if it is the widespread belief in reincarnation or a native carelessness that leads to the routinely reprehensible recklessness one sees there.
Other countries seem to have very different attitudes. I was reading recently about a phenomena that originated in Japan but seems to be spreading throughout more or less the whole of the so-called ‘developed’ World. It is known as ‘Karoshi’, basically a term used for the process of literally working oneself to death. Many workers in Japan, particularly those of the white collar variety, will quite routinely work until 10 or even 11 p.m., staying hours after their allotted time performing invariably unpaid overtime. Often they follow this with bouts of heavy drinking, a few hours sleep, and then returning to the office early the next morning.

Obviously such a lifestyle is deeply unhealthy. Many succumb to the stress and end up having breakdowns, becoming alcoholics or, all too frequently, simply dying, usually of heart attacks or strokes brought on by the extreme hours, sometimes they choose suicide. The Japanese government, after many high profile cases in the recent past, have been embarassed into legislating that the maximum amount of overtime that can be legally worked in a given month is an eye watering 100 hours. Such a high figure perhaps reflects the cultural attitude to service and work in that country. Given the societal expectations that are prevalent in Japan, one is aware that this is only a perfunctory exercise, people will continue to work in excess of even these astonomical limits.
Other countries, notably China and South Korea, are reporting more and more incidents of the same problem. The motivation is subtly different in these countries perhaps, a mixture of the notion of ‘going for it’ in order to be a ‘success’, familial piety a la Confusciu (or the idea that you should devote yourself completely to the furtherance of your family or group), and ‘face’, the notion that you should be concerned with how you are perceived by your fellows. Appearance is everything in China, you not only need to be successful but you need to be seen to be successful - hence the perceived necessity for so many wearable consumables: badges of rank denoting how successful you are and hence how high your status is. Apple as a company loves China. Their sales there are phenomenal, with Chinese customers often literally climbing over each other in order to be the first to own the latest iphone or laptop.

To some extent, Karoshi is now beginning to appear in the West as well. It is often driven by many of the same motivators, though perhaps pure consumerism plays a much greater role. Much like China, a person's worth, often even their self-worth, is dictated by the ability to afford the right products. Part of the process, in the UK at least, is the willingness is go into ever greater debt in order to ‘afford’ particularly nice cars, TVs or sofas. Whatever the motivation, the effect is much the same, with people feeling obliged to work longer and longer hours of almost invariably unpaid overtime to keep their ever increasingly demanding jobs.
One cannot help but wonder, given the damage to our planet, our personal lives, even our health that such unhealthy consumerism has brought, if is a wise way to go. Our very existence and pertinence to society seems to now be measured in how good we are at being consumers. Perhaps, finally, it is time for a paradigm shift. a shift away from being consumers to being producers, to stepping outside the economic system and becoming responsible for the basics of our own lives. A shift away from the top down model of consuming ready made goods and foods to a bottom up model wherein we take responsibility for our own lives and become producers rather than consumers.
This phenomenon can already be seen occurring in the US and, to a certain extent at least, in the UK. The realisation that the current way of being is not working and is deeply unhealthy on many levels struck many after the economic crash of 2008. Lots of people lost much of their wealth, their status, sometimes even their homes in the US in the aftermath of that crash. This lead to a questioning by many of the assumptions that consumer society is based on. Do we really need to live in such large houses? Do we need the gas guzzler? Do we need to go to supermarkets to buy plastic wrapped food soaked in salt, sugar and various chemical concoctions when we can produce good, wholesome and healthy food ourselves?

Such thinking is beginning to question some of the most fundamental assumptions that Western society has lived by for the best part of a century or more. More is always better is being challenged by those of us who appreciate minimalism; big governance and its centralised model which tends to favour industry and corporations (and itself, of course!) is now being seen as part of the problem, not part of the solution; the notion that one needs to be a ‘success’ in material terms is now perceived by many to be a form of neurosis rather than anything positive or life affirming. The times clearly are a-changing, as Bob Dylan once famously wrote.
Back here in the Smiley Frog restaurant a pleasant hour has passed and the place has become a virtual hive of very slow motion activity. A lass clad in turquoise smiles over to me as she continues to soporifically mop the tiles. The waitresses listen to a Thai talk show and studiously avoid eye contact hoping that the few customers they do have will go away. The gardener (he does a great job, even if he does it very, very slowly) wanders back and forth trying to find something that might need his attention.
As I finish the blog for another week, I find myself pondering the possibility of a trip up to Laos at the end of the month. Some Thai people apparently are of the opinion that the Loatian people are lazy. Given the soporific pace of life here, Lao laziness must be something to behold...

Text mad...

          Today my flaneurial duties have drawn me to the luxurious and highly impressive surrounds of a brand new Mall of four floors standing on the edge of the main junction into Chang An. It seems very salubrious and swanky, decorated tastefully with hanging sculptures dangling from the type of roof one that would have made Frank Lloyd Wright proud. Indeed, the whole design of the mall reminds one of the Guggenheim Museum in New York. No doubt this particular architect owes much of his inspiration to the genius of Mr Wright. So close are the features to Wright's design that one could be excused for imagining that the designer in question simply copied the ideas...perish the thought!

          Circumstances dictate a limited choice of watering holes in this monument to commerce, so I find myself taking an Americano and a glass of water in a franchise of a particularly global, tax-dodging American enterprise. Oddly, when I asked for 'yi bai shui' (a cup of water) the waitress proceeded, as per normal, to put ice cubes in the cup, followed, as is usual here, with hot water (the Chinese rarely drink their water cold). Very strange....

          Fortunately, this particular shopping mall seems to be equipped with a very efficient air cleaning system as normally, on this particular junction, one does well if one can refrain from coughing for more than three minutes. I have had the misfortune of having had to wait for buses on several occasions at this particular environmental black-spot. It could not be defined as a pleasant experience.

          Getting to the bus stop in the first place is a life threatening experience in itself involving, as it does, the crossing of eight lanes of traffic. The traffic is 'controlled', and I use the word in the loosest possible sense, by traffic lights. For many drivers the prohibition of the red light seems to be merely optional, for taxi drivers it is like a red rag to a bull. They are more likely to accelerate than slow down in response to such a provocation. Added to this, it would seem that no law at all applies to the bicyclists (many electric powered these days, silent assassins ...) and motorised rickshaw wallahs who quite happily proceed in the opposite direction to the main stream of traffic – quite comical at times... if it wasn't quite so terrifying. This trepidatious pedestrian feels himself in mortal peril each and every time he has the misfortune to have to cross that particular road.

          Inside the café, I sit and chat with a friend whilst observing a group of five youngsters, probably around 15 years of age, sitting around a table together. None of them though is actually talking to another but all are absorbed in the process of texting on their smart phones. This is a very common sight in China and, to be fair, almost everywhere else one goes in the World these days where these devices are readily available and affordable. By the look of things, these youngsters seem to be involved in earnest text conversations with friends not currently present. I often wonder in such circumstances if, when they finally meet up with the friend they are texting, they will then spend that time texting the friends they are currently with!?

          Apparently a whole new form of etiquette has formed around the question of the answering of text messages,  American youngsters in particular being prone to its demands. It seems to receive one and not to respond is considered the height of rudeness. The fear of being accused of such a social faux pas has lead youngsters to going to bed with their phones next to the pillows, ever ready to answer such profound enquiries as 'Are you  still awake?'

          Once more, it seems that the thing we think we own somehow ends up owning us...

          It is a decidedly odd paradox in modern life that seems to occur with alarming regularity: devices described as 'labour saving' or 'time saving' commonly have the opposite effect. Mobile phones were touted as saving us time and the need to be near a static phone – the reality has been that there is now nowhere to escape to if you have such a device (I often leave mine turned off ...).
 The wealthiest societies around the world are equipped with many such 'time saving' devices and yet the more they own the less time people actually seem to have. The opposite is also true, if you look at the 'poorer' societies in the World, the lack of such devices as phones, cars, computers, washing up machines, etc., etc., actually seems to magically leave them with more time. A very curious state of affairs.

          This paradox also applies to town and country. The places where most time saving devices are concentrated, i.e. cities, are at one and the same time the most frenetic and often least pleasant places, where people seem to be in a headlong rush to get ... where exactly?

          I take another sip of coffee and observe one of the youngsters now staring at the screen of his device whilst swishing his thumbs back and forth across the surface as it makes little beeps and whistles. He is strangely absorbed and yet at the same time agitated, gradually getting more and more animated in his reactions, his lips curling into agonised grimaces, limbs occasionally jerking to one side or the other in an attempt to control some process or another. One feels like telling him, if my Mandarin were good enough (which it is not) that he is looking at flashing lights on a tiny screen which is making rather silly little noises ... it really doesn't matter that much. I would guess the reaction would not be a pleasant one!

Wiser to keep my counsel methinks...

          This coffee shop is quietly efficient but could be located anywhere on the planet. Indeed, much the same could be said of the shopping centre itself. A mall, is a mall, is a mall – this one a particularly fine example of the flattening effect of the globalisation. It is clean, anonymous and ... completely without character, other than at the most banal and superficial level.  The idea of 'Globalisation' itself has become one of the sacred cows, much like such erroneous and socially damaging ideas as subjecting every aspect of life to 'market forces'. Its effects have created a world wherein, once one finds oneself in such a mall, one could be anywhere on the planet.

          As someone who considers himself something of a nomad, I tend to treasure the differences between places, peoples and cultures. In this way, it is sad to see the world getting smaller and smaller and less and less diverse. The whole planet appears to be settling into a globalised culture that is increasingly fast but equally, increasingly shallow and terribly anonymising. People reduced to being mere consumers, forever rushing around, whipped into a frenzy by manipulative and ruthless advertising, fearful that they will lose out on the latest 'bargain'. There seems (fortunately, only seems ... ) to be but one game in town, and much like the computer game that is obsessing my fellow customer, it is a pretty superficial and banal game at best.

          My young fellow customer has finally finished swishing away at his screen and now has returned to his texting duties. I have been writing for quite some time now but scarcely have any words have passed between the group of youngsters sitting at the nearby table.

          Ah, the joys of the dizzy social world of modern youth...