They offered me the office, offered me the shop
They said I better take anything they got
Do you wanna make tea at the BBC?
Do you wanna be, do really wanna be a cop?
Career opportunities are the ones that never knock”
— from “Career Opportunities,” Joe Strummer/Mick Jones, The Clash
Copyright 2007 Ben S. Pollock
The other day a copy of “Fast Company” was on another editor’s desk whose cover offered revelations on bottled water. This is a trendy business magazine, so it was surprising that while it praised the marketing of water in America it concentrated on this being a con. Tap water virtually everywhere in this country is safe and pure (a surer standard than “fair and balanced”?), and in many cases has a few nutritious minerals that reverse-osmosis store water doesn’t have. The only good thing about bottled water is that it is not soda pop.
Compulsory education is like water: essentially universal and mandated in the United States. Where is this written? Apparently nowhere. Neither are in the U.S. Constitution. Their presence in federal law seems to be both presumed and after the fact: There’s no “Thou shalt teach children unto the eighth grade,” nor “Potable water from community sources shall be provided for a fair price.” School and clean water already are accepted and Congress continues to revise regulations and policies to provide money for them, to ensure common standards. The common standards are of purity and knowledge. Purity refers to water.
Water and literacy we take for granted, and they’re not even in stone. Those of us who make it through 12 grades, plus stay hydrated through age 18 and beyond, accept that we soon will embark on careers. A sequence of jobs through adulthood is not a civil right; it’s just a way to keep track. But to read all the guides, all the articles, listen to all the teachers and the parents, career is how it is done.
But the concept of career, unlike the necessities of knowledge and potable liquid, is a con. It was conceived — I just bet — to encourage employment stability amid post-World War II technological change. Career likely is a beneficial scam in the way that the tax deduction for charity has personal and universal benefits. It’s a scam because some sort of dodge-less flat tax would provide enough money for common services with a wage earner’s net affording him enough to give away. But deductions come in such enticing flavors.
I would posit that before career made a career of high school and college job counseling, the kids of yore had a choice of a profession or a trade, from law and medicine to farming, plumbing and shopkeeping. Then the late 19th century rolls around, and Henry Ford tools up. America added a third job genre: The Company Man.
Company Men went to work on the assembly line and stayed until they retired, with a good pension. That same company’s other company men went to college then worked in management until they retired, with a good pension. General Motors, IBM, U.S. Steel, Sears — this worked for them. A worker did not presume he’d hop from firm to firm; he’d be promoted to his best fit. Loyalty would be rewarded, and the union was there to bargain collectively for higher rewards.
This economic model — not in the Constitution either — began falling in the 1950s. The Company Man was a little too expensive of an investment. I think economists and government planners and guidance counselors saw the young adult doing better financially by being a free-agent engineer or a manager, rather than being an Allstate or NBC lifer. This young adult has a resume and he markets himself. Company A is good for him (and increasingly, her) for now, but soon Company B will give him more appropriate training, or a better location and after that Company C will be pleased to make him a vice president. The careerist gets income and flexibility; business gets to duck out of paying for so much seniority.
But “career” meaning a string of related jobs (we are promised a line of ever-better jobs) can be bent and stretched. Job A and Job B are two points. They make a line. Job C makes a line from B, and how crooked it is means that career is in the eye of the beholder, or the interviewer at the human resources office.
I’ve been thinking for eight years how to explain that 19 years in journalism, then a year running a bed-and-breakfast inn, then eight years in journalism, including a year teaching it, truly is a singular career. It needs a name.
Then again, why bother? A stalwart newspaperman would say that ethically speaking the hospitality industry is closer to journalism than public relations/marketing/advertising. A realistic news media professional such as myself would note I have a number of former colleagues now in PR or corporate relations, and they’re just fine — reliable good people.
The thing about careers is that Job D could be anything, and it will jag. It may jig, but it won’t be straight. If I get the same job as C next time around it cannot be a continuous line. Job D will be in a new place or a new company, or if it’s the same city and same firm then its duties will be a bit different. Otherwise it’s still Job C. This is the hypothesis, for those who need a map: Any set of jobs in one person’s life can be called a career, and that makes it meaningless.
We all have careers. We all got education, quantity and quality notwithstanding. We’ve got plenty of cheap water to drink. None of it is guaranteed as an inalienable right, but this wouldn’t be America without any of them.
If what I’ve been doing is a career, it can be called journalism. But some damfoo university type would call it communication or communications or communications arts. Why not communication science?
What I’ve got is, is a load of craft.
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