Bullshit Jobs: A Theory
I must confess, I was left quite torn by the end of Bullshit Jobs: A Theory by David Graeber. It begins with the expansion of his essay of the same name, however by the time I finished, I couldn’t help but feel that a well-developed series of essays might have delivered the same impact with less repetition. The book’s first half is sharp and engaging, but the latter chapters start to meander, labouring the point until it loses some of its early momentum.
That said, the premise itself is excellent. In fact, the opening chapters felt almost therapeutic. For anyone who’s worked in a corporate environment, Graeber’s observations will strike an uncomfortable chord. If they don’t, you might need to ask whether you’ve inadvertently found yourself in a “bullshit job” without realising. Most of us, if we’re honest, have probably occupied a “bullshit job” at some point. If not, we’ve certainly worked alongside people who have.
Graeber defines a bullshit job as one so pointless or unnecessary that even the employee struggles to justify its existence. The early chapters explore this with wit and clarity, mixing philosophical reflections with real-world anecdotes.
I found myself laughing aloud more than once, not least because my listening coincided with the news cycle focusing on the U.S. monthly jobs report release. If so many jobs are meaningless, it’s both amusing, yet also slightly tragic how much importance we place on job creation figures without ever asking whether those jobs add any actual value. Anyhow, let me not digress too far into the arena of economic pantomime for now.
By the final third, the book begins to lose steam. For me Graeber spends too long explaining the origins of bullshit jobs and then somehow veers his way in the direction of Universal Basic Income despite insisting he’s not proposing policy. The detour should maybe be expected in light of what I now know of his political focus and maybe it’s a surprising it took so late into the book to come to the surface; however, it was a detour that felt unnecessary. By this stage, some readers may have struggled to keep going so an earlier wrap up may have been the better route to take.
Still, for the most part, it’s an enjoyable, funny, and oddly cathartic read (or listen depending how you consume). Even if it drifts near the end, the early sections alone are worth it for the recognition and validation they provide to anyone who’s ever sat through a pointless meeting or filled in a form that no one will ever read.
Who’s it for?
Anyone frustrated by the feeling that their job or many around them serves little real purpose will find this both entertaining and maybe oddly comforting. It’s especially resonant for those in large organisations where bureaucracy often outweighs productivity. Just be aware that the latter sections lean more overtly political, which may divide readers depending on their views.