“Quiet quitting” is the latest buzzword to set the internet aflame, with commentary as diverse as to columnists .
According to the most common definition, despite the name, it is not apropos to quitting at all. Doing your duty, with no unremunerated extra work, going home and disconnecting. Reclaiming work-life balance and avoiding burnout.
I support this idea on every level. All anyone should ever be expected to do, is the assigned duties that their job entails. Going above and beyond should be encouraged, sure – under the condition that going above and beyond is duly rewarded. The issue with quiet quitting, for me, at least – is that in some ways, it is a luxury afforded to those whose job security is not contingent on performing well above what their job description entails.
For many people, doing their job to rule would be tantamount to handing in a resignation, or at the very least an absolute assurance of zero career progression. In many competitive and highly specialised roles, particularly in the lower echelons, to not go above and beyond would be to virtually step aside and allow another ambitious entry-leveller to take your place. If you’re not willing to go above and beyond, there’s a line out the door of people who will.
Going above and beyond should be encouraged, sure – under the condition that going above and beyond is duly rewarded.
If you’ve ever worked in a sales role, in tech support or at a call centre (as I have), you’d know that your job security is dependent on your adherence to KPIs (key performance indicators). These are metrics such as, solving problems on the first call, keeping the calls within a reasonable time, calls-to-sales conversions, net sales, et cetera.
In casual roles, these can determine everything from eligibility for promotions and bonuses – to literally the number of shifts you get. In these roles, “quiet quitting” would result in middle management telling you that you’re, “up for a coaching session” or a “performance review” – or worse, your shifts being cut wordlessly.
In blue collar jobs, there’s often not enough time to take all your breaks and still get the work done due to unrealistic time and budget constraints. I was once abused by a customer who said there weren’t enough small trolleys, and clearly this was both my fault and the fault of the worker who I was taking over from, who the customer referred to by a racial slur. Collecting trolleys is a physical job, and the safety checks and maintenance I am supposed to sign off on every shift all take time.
. . I work five jobs, ranging from blue collar to highly specialised – all of them casual and precarious. I’ve worked many more. When I read articles about being able to do the bare minimum in a job and keep it, I often wonder what kind of job security has already been locked down to allow this.
I work five jobs, ranging from blue collar to highly specialised – all of them casual and precarious. For people who are in insecure work, quiet quitting is not an option.
For people who are in insecure work, blue collar work, in the Springtime of their careers in specialised fields or trying to fight their way up the ladder for job security (or all these at once), quiet quitting is not an option. I absolutely stand with the quiet quitters of the world – although I understand that it is often an act of self-care rather than industrial action.
Even if I wanted to, I can’t join the revolution, because I might never get a chance at a permanent role again, no matter how slim that chance might be. Maybe I should have learned to code? People whose workplaces have hammocks and free snacks can afford to work to rule. People who work in hi-vis and hard hats, or even people trying to work their way up to a job with hammocks and free snacks, probably can’t.
Benjamin Muir is a freelance writer and participant in The Writing Zone, a mentoring program for young writers from Western Sydney, hosted by Western Sydney University’s Writing & Society Research Centre.