Understated Ideas

There’s a Vietnamese lady somewhere in Vancouver who runs a hair salon. She goes by the name Lydia. Her business is called “Nelly’s,” along with about 3 other unaffiliated salons by that name along the same stretch of road.

Her salon is a bit run-down. Anyone walking by would easily dismiss it. The battered wooden door gets jammed frequently and needs a firm lift by its tarnished knob before it will close properly. Nelly’s has one large storefront window overlooking the pavement with blinds that have ends pointing haphazardly in different directions. The printing on the glass pane needs replacing. The edges of the phone number printed in bold red on it are missing pieces, crumbling slowly.

Inside, you’ll find a perpetually running box TV attached to the innermost wall by the ceiling. There’s usually a soap opera playing on the screen, dubbed in Vietnamese. More often than not, Lydia has 2 friends chattering away animatedly to her about things I am not privy to. At times, her usually stoic demeanour cracks into a broad smile or nagging gesture. Routinely someone brings her hot food- soup in a plastic take out container, noodles in a styrofoam one.

If you drop by hoping for a haircut on a late weekend morning, you’ll have to wait. It’s usually packed with monosyllabic teen boys and their mothers dragging them there for a trim, as well as those coming in on their day off. Occasionally there will be a parent sitting in a chair holding a sobbing, squirming toddler in for their first haircut. Lydia gently holds the child’s chin in place and offers soothing words as the buzzing clipper moves too close to the little one’s scalp for their liking.

There is a quiet dignity about Lydia, and a steeliness in her eyes. She is always poised no matter the time of day, or how rude customers are. I appreciate that she doesn’t feel the need to make forced small talk.

I probably exchange under 10 words with her on most of my visits, although she seems to be more inquisitive about my personal life these days. Typically when it’s my turn, I smile, and she returns the expression, not so much with the edges of her mouth, but with her eyes. She always asks “same?” and I nod, cracking into a grin. She laughs because my answer hasn’t changed for years.

When she’s not too busy, she gets personal, asking me if I’m married, if I have children, if I want children. I answer politely that I’m focusing on my career. Without skipping a beat she asks if I have gone back to the Philippines recently. I catch her eye in the mirror, half wincing half smiling, and remind her for the umpteenth time that I’m Singaporean Chinese. And without fail, she always acts surprised that I am not Filipino. This back and forth banter about my ethnicity has been going on for more than 4 years.

Amidst the discussion, she pushes my head to the side she needs it at while cutting my hair. She briskly blows off the stray ends of hair left on my neck with a hair dryer and a clean cloth. One last check, and the cape is removed.

Visits to Nelly’s are a part and parcel of my routine every few months. I always look forward to it. There’s just something about the non-fussy everyday nature of the tiny hair salon and its owner.

Miwa Sado died from heart failure in 2013. The NHK journalist worked nearly 160 hours of overtime in the month before her death. Her cause of death was listed as karoshi, death from overwork.

Even as I type this, you've probably got someone in mind who is burnt out from work. It might be a colleague, a friend, or a family member. I have a good friend in healthcare who regularly stays past her mandated work hours, unpaid, to complete the never ending backlog of work. Another, in tech, quit his job due to the stress of long hours and overwork. Even more lament about staying late so that their bosses think they've put a lot of effort in.

No matter how many times researchers point out a negative correlation between number of hours worked and productivity, it seems to fall on deaf ears for the vast majority of employers. The higher the number of hours we work in a day or a shift, the higher the number of errors we make and the slower we are at completing a task. Longer hours at work also takes away from our ability to spend time with family and friends.

Nearly one quarter of Japanese companies surveyed by the government in 2015 admitted some employees worked more than 80 hours of overtime a month. Approximately 1 in 10 had employees working more than 100 hours of overtime. Miwa Sado wasn't the exception. She was the norm.

ILO statistics on Karoshi and Karojisatsu (suicide from overwork)

Government data showed that Singaporeans worked more hours on average than in countries well known for their overworking culture like Japan. There seems to be an “Overwork Olympics” that happens year-round. If you’re regularly sleeping 4 hours a night due to work and boasting about it, perhaps your priorities are misaligned. Sacrificing your health for the perceived self-importance that busyness creates is a worrying thing. Perpetual exhaustion from overwork shouldn’t be something we are proud about.

Thankfully things are slowly changing. The government has encouraged a more flexible work culture to help Singaporeans achieve a more ideal work-life balance. Over 250 companies have adopted more flexible work arrangements championed by the Tripartite Alliance for Fair and Progressive Employment Practices (TAFEP).

Initiative launched in 2003 by the Centre for Fathering

Other organisations have put their foot forward to encourage more family-centric activities for employees. One such example is Eat With Your Family Day (EWYFD) started by the Centre for Fathering in Singapore. In a recent update to the programme, organisations agreed to let their workers off early on a Friday every quarter to have dinner with their families.

Yet, sceptical overworked employees know better than to rejoice just yet. Penning a company policy on paper is one thing, putting it into practice is another. Employees are inclined to react to what bosses do, not what they say. If a CEO says they encourage open feedback regarding work-life balance and flexibility, but then dismisses all suggested improvements, employees inevitably start withholding their concerns and eventually leave.

However, some Singaporean companies that are looking to even out the scales include DBS, OCBC Bank, and telecoms heavyweight Singtel. DBS closes an hour and half earlier on Fridays and offers staff a half day off during their birthday month. Singtel gives its employees a variety of time off allotments including flexi-family leave, study and examination leave, and a day for community work.

Perpetual Guardian CEO Andrew Barnes, on a 4 day work week

One company in New Zealand has reaped the benefits of shorter work hours and flexible work arrangements. Perpetual Guardian experimented with a 32 hour work week earlier this year. Researchers who tracked the effects on their staff found that employees were just as productive, more punctual, and more energised. On top of that, the company has seen a significantly reduced electricity bill.

Other trials in different countries have found varied results, and understandably so. Where we live and work influences how we think about busyness as well. Italians for example are more inclined to view leisure time as a high social status marker. Americans by comparison see busyness at work as an indicator of the same.

Ultimately, Perpetual Guardian’s Andrew Barnes argues that formulating employee contracts based on an agreed level of productivity as opposed to a fixed number of hours at the office is more effective. This strategy stands to benefit working parents, caregivers, and other employees for whom flexible work schedules work best.

Singapore’s Ministry of Manpower (MOM) agrees that workplaces that prioritise work-life flexibility create a win-win scenario. The ministry has a dedicated portal covering the types of flexible work arrangements possible, and their positive impact on employee retention, satisfaction, and workplace productivity. For resistant employers, they demonstrate that investing in your employees boosts your profit margins as well.

It’s a collaborative effort to ensure fewer employees feel burnt out and overworked. Direct managers and supervisors, as well as upper management would do well to listen to the concerns brought forth by their subordinates and implement change as necessary. At the same time, government and grassroot labour organizations can lobby businesses with the hard evidence that supporting your workers doesn’t mean sacrificing profits.

Countries with a deep seated overwork culture, like Japan, will have a tough go at changing employers’ and workers’ mindsets. But change is long overdue and essential to the physical and psychological well being of Japanese employees.

Considering how much of our lives we spend at work, finding meaning and a measure of satisfaction in what we do for a living is important. It doesn’t have to be your passion. But it also shouldn’t be dreadful.