Bridging knowledge and labor

Abstract

The artificial boundary between knowledge work and manual labor cuts two ways, affecting both the contours of the labor force and the potential for much-needed innovation. This boundary is artificial because even those in jobs that involve so-called menial labor do knowledge work. Grocery store cashiers, for example, interact with database systems (checkout registers) and perform calculations on the fly when products are mispriced. And this is in addition to the emotional labor involved in many service jobs: the cheery smile and small talk that can be creepy when replicated by a robot. For those who can choose, a career in knowledge work typically holds the promise of a higher income and greater status, bringing with it the trade-offs of geographic distance and potentially reduced job security. Meanwhile, the social ties in communities where jobs revolve around manual labor have been weakened, in part because younger generations have opted for a higher-status future doing knowledge work in distant cities. This pattern, while pronounced in the context of the U.S., is also visible in global flows of migrants for whom the wage differential for manual labor—as a housekeeper, construction worker, or health aide—leads many to earn money in another country, leaving family and community for years and sometimes decades. The other impact is not as immediately visible as geographic dislocation. As the example of Enzo illustrates, the line between manual labor and knowledge work is unclear. The explosion of cheap, everywhere computing, which futurists say has only just begun, suggests that it’s Enzo, an experienced machinist quoted in a report prepared by the Forrester consulting firm, felt out of place when he joined a new shop at age 56. He knew that he had changed over time, “but the machines had changed a lot more. They had gotten very high tech. The work had changed; there’s now a lot more prep: setting up the machine for the job, putting in codes, programming. But I wasn’t interested in learning the new machines. I hated coming every morning. Putting in the codes scared me; I thought I’d break something. For decades, I’d been a top performer at a top shop—but here, I was a slacker” [1]. As computational technology and artificial intelligence continue to seep into all aspects of everyday life and work, it’s not uncommon to hear concerns about robots replacing humans. This, according to the same Forrester report, is a misplaced fear. Not only do we lack the industrial capacity to produce enough robots to displace the world’s 340 million workers, robots lack the agility to deal with tasks involving fine motor skills, which are easily done by humans. Some jobs will surely be replaced by machines. My garbage and recycling, for example, are picked up by a robot arm, almost comical in its articulation, that is mounted to the side of a garbage truck. The two workers who used to wrangle the bin from the curb and hop on the truck between houses are no longer in sight, though there is still someone who at least appears to be driving the apparatus. Will this human, too, disappear, or will their presence be necessary to calm fears about such a massive and potentially destructive machine operating of its own accord? Putting a legitimate fear of physical safety aside, even highly skilled humans such as Enzo are not necessarily comfortable interacting with robots. While this is often attributed to a lack of skill, it’s a problem that’s equally rooted in Western culture, where what’s often referred to as knowledge work is held in tension with a broad category of work considered manual labor. Anyone who has watched a machinist in action knows that manual labor is only part of the job. A machinist draws from a robust knowledge base to configure the machines that cut thread into pipe, stamp and fold sheet metal, or operate a lathe, regardless of whether these tools are controlled by the direct manipulation of a skilled set of hands or the indirect manipulation of hands on a keyboard. The way these differences ripple into broader culture is especially apparent in American culture, where class status is inextricably linked to one’s work. The further the work is from manual labor, the higher the status. Elsewhere in the world, such as in India, this distinction is built into caste systems, where low-caste people have long been incorrectly regarded not only to be less intellectually capable than those born to a higher caste but also to prefer manual work. Aside from the deeply consequential problems engendered by caste and class, the fact remains that much work must be done by hand, and that leaving this work Bridging Knowledge and Labor