“What do you do, exactly?”

It is a question that came up during a social outing last month. The inquirer was not curious about job titles, but skills. The specific competencies that I employ during work that are considered valuable by my employer. A question not too easy to answer and one I rarely reflect on, because I, like so many others, am consigned to work in order to be granted basic rights like food, shelter, and opportunities of self-expression.

While I have always tried to contribute to society in alignment with my values, interests, and in service to betterment for all, labor options are perennially limited. Having the privilege of a solid support network and financial security have also allowed me to pursue higher education or take breaks from employment without dire consequences – again, a dignity in life not yet available to all.

I returned to the question again recently. We live in a largely service economy, one rife with bullshit jobs where a large amount of “value” is tied to moving capital up and unsustainable growth to no end. When the economy “improves”, it disproportionately benefits those who already have capital, power, and the means to manipulate the system to their liking. You can probably tell I am not a big fan of how things are currently structured. I am unconvinced that we are meeting our fundamental commitment to future generations in all respects. But I also reject much of the talk of the alienation between the worker and the product; human societies and economies are complex beasts and we owe it to the collective to seek self-edification on how small, perhaps abstract acts, can build a better future for all. We need people who provide physical labor, but we also need systems thinkers. The alchemy required in each era shifts, largely guided by the alchemy of the economic order itself.

The difficulty comes within the degrees of good faith in which the efforts are undertaken.

Some of my responses to the question that day touched on the type of work I have done, and the relevance of my educational background, but did not quite get into the substance of the query.

So what do I do, exactly? Well, since I have entered my career proper (let us ignore all the part-time gigs I did from ages 15 to 24 while studying), I have done a lot of random things. (I will share a few.)

A large amount of my time has been spent on building relationships with people. Wildfire evacuees, community leaders, healthcare staff, administrators, various stakeholders from all levels of the organizations I have worked, etc. Basically, anyone who would welcome me into a constructive dialogue. This has included extensive travel to every corner of this incredible province, from remote Indigenous communities of thirty spread over a mountain to convention center-based technocrat congregations of thousands. Another thing that has occupied the calendar is administration – building agendas or excel tools, reading and writing reports, plans, legal agreements, and contributing to online platform development. Finally, I will mention it because it is no small thing: thinking. Considering the impacts of decisions to people’s lives, whether the decisions are being made by the people themselves or individuals sequestered in offices across the country, and ensuring all involved are informed appropriately. Sitting at the fulcrum of clashing perspectives, often without the final say on any matter.

Overall, though, I guess I could say that my time has been occupied, however fruitfully, on attempting systemic change. Of being a small part of a multi-tiered approach to not losing hope in the face of many of the knotty challenges ahead. Mainly by doing my best to break down lofty goals and ambitions to identifiable, actionable steps that accumulate to something greater over the long run. It is immensely frustrating at times, and no substitute for direct action, but I suppose that has been my day job for the past decade or so.

In case you are wondering, I have a B.A. in English Literature and Physics, and an M.Sc. in International Development. The former has been more influential in framing my approaches to thought, while the latter has informed my political and professional philosophies. Neither was pursued as a stepping stone towards a particular career or to foster special skills. I figured I would prioritize what I wanted to learn, to whatever financial end. That I could find something decent to do afterwards, the current setup be damned.

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I sometimes joke, quite glibly, that I cannot wait until I am fired. Since the jobs I have held over the past nine years – in emergency management, Indigenous health, and now in policy – have not been the easiest. The humor allows me to envision scenarios of the day I am called in to my employer’s office and given notice that I am no longer required, so I can happily seize the chance to do something fun as an aside to the capitalist grind. So I can take a few months off – or heck, even a year – and drive off into the sunset, commencing hastily planned road trips across North America. Using up my ‘fantasy budget’ (a stash of cash saved in the chequing account) to live out some long-awaited dreams of exploration.

After all, I have run my youth ragged, often working long days with heavy travel commitments annually, just so that I can make the most of the opportunities presented to a mind perpetually intrigued by the vastness of human experience. Can I not take a break and just… chill?

Here in Canada, there is a dark undertone to this fanciful desire. Youth unemployment is at historic highs. Lots of people are struggling to find work, fund their education, start families, and initiate their independent lives in satisfying ways. I recognize how tone-deaf it is to proclaim that I cannot wait to be unemployed in a context where a significant chunk of the population is forced out of labor force participation. It helps bring home the point that capital and the dignity it bestows is sourced from somewhere. And the sources we are mining are slowly being exhausted.