Find Your Passion… at Work
My dad, who had spent his entire life working for large companies and has spent the last 20 years running his own business, was well-intentioned. However, Galloway’s advice seems both misguided and missing the point.
This idea basically boils down to “work manufactures passion.” The fruits of one’s labor—prestige, camaraderie, “a private jet,” and even self-worth—are, to Galloway, synonymous with “passion.”
This advice strikes me as empty. Surely, some of us may discover our passions at work but only out of sheer luck. Moreover, why is passion linked directly to our ability to “find a mate” and “fly private,” in Galloway’s words? Are our passions simply an interest to be exploited for material gain? This strikes me as a misunderstanding. Most likely, Galloway is projecting what he cares about and claiming they create passion in a general sense.
Maybe I’m being unfair. Passion must emerge from something. Someone who is passionate about getting humanitarian aid into the Tigray region in Northern Ethiopia must first learn that there is such a place as Ethiopia, the country is in a state of civil war, and that Tigray is falling into famine conditions, among other things. The old advice to “follow your passion” may actually be “utter bullshit.” After all, one can’t follow what they don’t know exists. However, Galloway’s advice rings hollow because it suggests passions are found in material goods and extravagant lifestyles as opposed to well-being.
As Jill Lapore notes in “What’s Wrong With the Way We Work,” humans have historically been driven to work out of a need to survive and, later, a need to consume. She describes how many people do, in fact, find purpose in their work: “the companionship they find in the workplace, chance to get out of the house, the feeling of doing something, the sense of accomplishment.”
However, there is a difference between how things are and how things ought to be. Fred the Baker endlessly goes to work so that others might consume treats at Dunkin’ Donuts, but surely his personal well-being is not rising in the process. Is Fred’s life satisfaction improving as he churns out 52 doughnut varieties? How is his relationship with his wife? What passions are going undiscovered in the time between exiting and entering through his front door?
If we are like Fred the Baker and working to survive, or if we are like Galloway and working to fly private and find a mate, is there room for meaning, purpose, and well-being? Just because most of humanity is in a similar situation doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for something greater.