The False Security of 'Employability'

A new social contract based on "employability" is the sound of one hand clapping. Its impetus is wishful thinking masquerading as a concept -- a lived happily ever after" ending to replace the broken psychological contract of the past. The hard truth is, there is no painless remedy. In fact, the death of job security, like any death, means that we have to learn to relate to the pain, not escape from it. Once upon a time, corporations were like ocean liners. Anyone fortunate enough to secure a berth cruised through a career and disembarked at retirement age. A clear agreement charted the voyage: in return for loyalty, sacrifice, bureaucratic aggravation, and the occasional demanding boss, you received job security for life.

In the last decade, ocean liners have started heaving their crews overboard. In the United States alone, economist Robert Topel estimates that more than 12.2 million white-collar workers lost their jobs between 1989 and 1991 and another 3 million since then; of these, only 6.3 million found jobs -- which, on the average, earned 30% less than before. The corporations, on the other hand, saw aggregate profits rise to near-record levels -- a 10% increase in 1994 after a 13% increase in 1993.

In theory, "employability" aims to restore the quid pro quo between the ocean liner and its crew. Instead of a lifelong voyage, companies take smaller excursions with crew members who understand that they might change boats after any trip. In exchange for employees making dedicated efforts during these shorter engagements, the company agrees to pay somewhat higher wages and to invest in the employees' development. This makes them more marketable when it comes time to move on.

The Cosmic Drama

It's not that easy. There is a fundamental flaw with this convenient new arrangement: philosophically, employability is a slick palliative that sidesteps the need to confront our essential humanness. There are three interlocking elements to the problem. First, job loss and employment insecurity is an inherently painful experience that triggers a loss of self-esteem and social identity. Second, corporations and those who work for them cannot resolve these issues by themselves. Third, a new social context is needed to legitimize and deal with the grief associated with the experiences of loss and betrayal in our working lives.

Corporations have become the dominant institution of our time, occupying the position of the church of the Middle Ages and the nation-state of the past two centuries. But corporations did not seek this role, nor has society acknowledged it. Observers may comment on the overarching power of corporations; but those at the helm see themselves in a much narrower light -- simply striving to stay ahead of committed rivals.

Modern organizations seek to bind people together in emotionally powerful ways to achieve excellence in certain kinds of activities. These collective activities are more intense than ever in a downsized world -- tight deadlines, significant competitive consequences from success or failure, heightened aspirations for performance. Cast in a very personal metaphor, the modern corporation must master the art of "marrying" individuals to accomplish common goals. And consistent with this matrimonial metaphor, interpersonal trust, investment of self, shared meaning, and commitment are all needed to pull it off. Numerous accounts -- from Tracy Kidder's The Soul of a New Machine to descriptions of how Ford Motor Company built the Taurus -- testify to the compelling force exerted by these emotional factors.

But the orchestration of these "marriages" to accomplish work does not spare the contemporary corporation from competitive realities. Sometimes even the most dedicated collective effort fails to overcome a company's disadvantages in technology or cost position. When this happens, the company must put its own survival ahead of continued employment for its people. The corporation must not only master the art of orchestrating marriages but also muster the will to decree mass "divorces" -- layoffs. In the aftermath, committed employees often experience intense loss, a feeling of being betrayed, and grief, the kind that we legitimize in our private lives but seldom acknowledge in our professional ones.

Few have looked at the fallout of this paradox in greater depth than David Noer, author of Healing the Wounds: Overcoming the Trauma of Layoffs and Revitalizing Downsized Organizations. Noer writes: "It begins with a deeper sense of violation. It often ends with anger, sadness and depression." Leavers feel discarded and betrayed. Survivors are consumed with their attempts to tough it out in jobs that have lost their joy, spontaneity, and personal relevancy.