Sure, My Work Is Flexible. It Wraps Around My Entire Life.

Flexibility: good luck
Flexibility: easier said than done

Comes today a report from the White House about workplace flexibility, and good luck to everyone involved. I’m all for it. Workplaces ought to be like secretarial pools: fluid, able to shift work around evenly, allowing anyone the chance to run out to a school play or a daycare emergency at a moment’s notice.

I’m also in favor of free mass transit for everyone, tuition-free private colleges, and marbled New York strip steaks that don’t raise your cholesterol. Guess what: None of those will become available anytime soon, either.

The problem with flexible work is achievement. If you are pretty good at what you do, that sets you apart from others who do the same thing. Flexibility assumes equivalence, and the truth is, people aren’t equivalent at all. Otherwise, everyone at the same corporate level would make the same amount, and most of us wouldn’t change jobs much. I have reached some minor version of success at the magazine where I work–as I often say, I clawed my way to the middle–and that’s because I can do things other people don’t do nearly so well. If I walk away in the middle of a deadline, it will cause havoc. (I learned this when, recently, I caught a fierce respiratory illness, and actually did have to stay home for a couple of days. Minor mayhem ensued.) I can’t imagine the situation being any different for neurosurgeons, lawyers arguing before the Supreme Court, or White House aides. “I’m sorry, Senator. Mr. Emanuel can’t be here today, but this guy Bob who met him once can probably handle any questions that come up during that legislative hearing.”

Like I say, I’m a believer in the flexible schedule. I also see quite how far it exists from any experience of corporate life that I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s different in less deadline-driven offices, and I hope that’s true. If anyone can make it work, I wish him or her well.

Published by Christopher

Christopher Bonanos is a senior editor at New York magazine, where he works on arts and urban-affairs coverage (and a few other things). He and his wife live smack in the middle of midtown Manhattan, where their son was born in March 2009. Both parents are very happy, and very tired.

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