Have you heard about what the Japanese call karōshi, death by overwork?
What westerners call occupational sudden death typically results from heart attack or stroke due to stress and exhaustion. And the statistics from Japan are startling—from overwork, people are suffering death or breakdown while still in their 20s and 30s. Stereotypically, it has long been held that Japanese businesspeople show pride in their work and in their companies. It is common to hear stories of them working excessive hours to win the day or earn their keep. But, if the end of the day results in physical or mental breakdown, is the reality check worth paying?
One fifteen-year-old Japanese exchange student I met found it interesting that I knew the word karōshi. “Of course, everyone in Japan knows that term,” he told me. “Me, I know it a bit more personally. My father almost died from it two months ago.”
“Hospital time …?” I asked.
“Yes, he was there for one month,” he uttered, trying to stave off the emotion.
“What did he do to change his lifestyle?” I wondered.
“He used to work seven days per week,” he told me. “About seventy hours. Now he works about fifty-five and walks on the treadmill every day.” The story later changed a bit: the father was actually doing three hours every other day, listening to English lessons as he walked. That’s a lot of treadmill walking and a lot of English, perhaps excessive on both counts. How about some family time, some out-in-nature time, and some downtime?
“What is his occupation?” I asked the young lad from Japan.
With a bit of embarrassment he admitted, “He’s a medical doctor …”
My next question was the ultimate one for critics of the modern era’s ‘busy medicine’ approach—you know, patients waiting in line to get in to see a physician or physician’s assistant (who may or may not remember you from last time) for a brief appointment.
“How much time does he spend with each patient?”
“Oh,” he said, after hearing my question. “My father is a generalist … he spends about five minutes with each patient.”
More news from the front—kid karōshi?
Nope. Kids aren’t getting overworked, they’re getting under loved. New millennium infants, most notably in the ‘busy’ West, are suffering from strokes before they’re a year old. Why do you think that is?
Dietary inadequacies and the lack of physical contact with others (most notably loving touches from their parents) are two of the suggested explanations. The verb ‘to stroke’ is also a synonym for ‘to caress’. Avoiding caressing or holding the baby causes the baby to expire. Thus, no stroke means stroke.
Apparently, those who receive enough early TLC eventually make it to the workforce where pressures generally mount. Workers, whose rights allow them to vote for solutions, make up the largest section of the voting pool.
Economic incentives and labor laws aren’t easy things for the electorate and elected officials to agree on. Opposing the taxing style of the ‘excessive’ Japanese, the socialist French have sought to keep their labor force (their electorate) happy by implementing shorter work weeks and more paid vacation time. In the year 2000, legislation reduced the work week from 40 hours per week to 35. If the employee goes over that, (and yes, there are ways around this including calculating work time on a monthly basis or annual basis), the employee gets mandatory overtime. And French officials are not kidding around. If your company abuses this, and it gets found out (can you picture a disgruntled staffer not reporting it?) the employment division of the federal government descends upon your company like the Allied divisions hit the Normandy beaches.
As far as productivity, some French claim to do as much work in 35 hours as others do in 40 or more and as much while taking lots of vacation as those with little vacation. Does it make sense that less produces more? Do people focus better when they’re watching the clock—and the calendar—less frequently? Do more days off and shorter weeks reduce clock-watching time? When my writing days go quickly, I almost never watch the clock. Eating, bathroom, and stretch breaks are my chances to consider the clock. How fast does a French work week go?
Interesting contrasts, the French and the Japanese. Then there are the Americans, the same folks who helped rebuild Japan (and France and other countries) after clobbering the land during World War II. The very bright and diligent General Douglas MacArthur, who reined over Japan for about 6 years starting the day of the Japanese surrender, reportedly worked 7 days per week at his post, headquartered on the top floor of the Dai-ichi Seimi Building (a life insurance company) in Tokyo. According to some accounts, he generally showed up for work at 10 A.M. and then took lunch at a suitable hour. Then, he generally left around 6 P.M. If we count dinners with dignitaries (which we likely should), he worked 8 hours plus the occasional dinner. MacArthur was tasked with reorganizing the antiquated, elitist-controlled country into a more modern and equitable system of land ownership, while of course making sure America’s business, political, and security interests were prioritized.
In 1951, when the aging General MacArthur left the country he occupied, the Japanese held a parade of appreciation and fond farewell. The streets of Tokyo were reportedly lined by hundreds of thousands. Then MacArthur starred in similar colossal parades in Honolulu and New York City. Four times more people came to New York to attend MacArthur’s parade than lived in the city at the time. The Western and westernizing world of booming economies hope to personally share in the acknowledgement of the good times and relative peace that came in the wake of the war.
Changes to Japan’s industrial might—free enterprise using new machines and state-of-the-art methods housed in brand new factories—are why some pronounced Japan the victors of the subsequent economic war of the major powers of the second half of the 20th century. You may recall that in the late 1980s and 1990s many of the top 10 names on the list of largest banks in the world were Japanese-owned?
Was America dreaming too much at work and leaving work too early to keep up with those of the rising sun? Were Americans of the Beat Generation running out of steam? Or were overseas entities gaining as America began to demand more of the cushy life—higher wages, more time off, better health care? If less work equates to less efficient economic output and lower productivity, what is the forecast for the more worker-friendly world economics? Is economic non-viability what’s in store for the French, the Canadians, and other states who have favored rich social programs?
Part of the American education system—and the increasingly illusive American Dream—trains U.S. residents to roll-up-their-sleeves and take initiatives as independent thinkers who can cooperate in team frameworks, no matter the corporate dynamics (yeah, right!).
As time marches on, the traditional worker and organizational training has been put in question. Does the independent yet cooperative approach prepare Americans to be squeezed out of the economic positions they toiled to attain?
Current economic challenges together with increased costs of living have created shifts in job consciousness. Today you’ll meet plenty of folks fed up with the tight-rope-walk of small and private business who wouldn’t mind the classic ‘tenured’ government job with paid benefits and vacation. Though, in the U.S., the current climate in the public sector is one of cutbacks as well. Is it too far a stretch to say that a growing number of rank-and-file Yankees wish their consolidating and predatory box-store capitalism took a left turn à la French?
Given the popularity of a national health care referendum and frustration with personal economics, some seem to be saying so.
No matter the system you toil under, keep your health in line with a balance of work and recreation. Whether you are focusing more due to more time off, or working 12-hour days in hopes of covering overhead or getting ahead, be sure to leave the jobsite at an hour that will keep you from taking a right turn à la karōshi.
