This past Monday I heard a radio segment about how people miss having a commute to work. More specifically, they miss the time to transition between the private and the public. According to the segment, some employers are encouraging that (or maybe adding?) “commuting” be designated in workplace calendars as a nudge to make time for this transition. Some employers are also partnering with mindfulness apps, suggesting that such practices might serve as a mechanism during “commute time” to mentally prepare for the workday.
Technological management
The calendar notification to take “commute time” reminds me of Hannah Arendt’s concerns in the Prologue to the Human Condition. There, she worries about how much of life is becoming subject to technological and bureaucratic control. She was commenting on the space race, but the remote work environment is another example. Does my employer track the amount of time I log onto Microsoft Teams each day? What information do workplace collaboration programs retain about me?
Even initiatives that aim to promote workplace well-being, such as using a corporate calendar to block off commuting time, have the creepy feel that I am being managed. When a problem arises (e.g., negative effects on employee well-being from a lack of a short commute), it seems a ubiquitous and obvious assumption that the solution is technological.
I don’t mean to suggest that the automatic turn to technological solutions is nefarious. For Arendt, technology is always about control. This in itself is not a problem. Rather, her caution is about technology becoming ideological. Are we elevating it to a good that cannot be questioned? Are we reflective about how and why we use it? How technology might be altering our ways of being in the world and being together?
Forgetting nature
Something implicit in Arendt’s reflections on the space race was that a technocratic approach was alienating us from our natural environment. She states, “The earth is the very quintessence of the human condition, and earthly nature, for all we know, may be unique in the universe in providing human beings with a habitat in which they can move and breathe without effort and without artifice” (p. 2).
Although Arendt wasn’t talking about nature in the sense of being outdoors or “in nature,” reading this sentence in the present day, my mind turns to the climate crisis. Whereas Arendt wondered (worried about?) what it means for humans to try to escape the earth, our predicament now is that there may not be an earth, or at least a habitat without effort and artifice, for humans in the coming generations. We are alienated from the natural environment in a different way because of the effects of climate change. (And note that “we” should not indicate a universal experience. Some communities and populations bear disproportionate burdens as a result of climate change).
Recently Rita and I talked about how unfortunate it was that Arendt did not talk more about the importance of the natural world. Last year, reflecting on how time spent in nature can re-affirm our love for the world in its natural, social, and political dimensions, Rita wrote, “Loving the world is something that we often forget within the business of our everyday activity.” Time spent in nature can help restore our attention to loving the world.
Commuting spaces
Revisiting the Prologue reminds me of two things. The first reminder is that we should question the way we privilege technological solutions to problems without thinking them through first. The second is that, at times in recent history, technology seems to be presented as in tension with or opposition to the natural environment.
The radio segment emphasized the need to take time to commute. But it made me wonder: would a spatial transition also be beneficial? Do I need to leave “the home,” take a walk, and re-enter “work”?
My pre-COVID commute was a fifteen-minute bike ride or a fifteen-minute walk on either side of a ten-minute light rail trip. Or sometimes I took public transit to work and walked home to let the workday slowly seep out of me. For my home-work transition, being outside was central. We know being outside has positive benefits for mental health. So perhaps a little walk around the block would provide time and space for a person to mentally transition between work and home.
I do not mean for this suggestion to be overly prescriptive. I can imagine my colleagues with children or parents to care for may not have the capacity to leave the house whenever they want to take a walk. Rather, what I am musing on is the added benefit of outdoor spaces when thinking about adding in a “commute” from bedroom to home office. Commute time spent out-of-doors, a time and a space away from home and work, may provide just the kind of transition I need.
Credits
Photo by Mitchell Luo on Unsplash