Jackson: You know that old saying, "Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life"? I feel like that’s been plastered on every graduation card and motivational poster for decades. Olivia: It has. And according to our book today, it’s probably the most dangerous piece of career advice of the last 50 years. Jackson: Dangerous? Come on, isn't finding a job you're passionate about the ultimate goal? Olivia: That’s what we’ve been told. But the book argues it’s a trap, a very cleverly set one. And today, we’re going to show you exactly how it was set. We're diving into Work Won’t Love You Back: How Devotion to Our Jobs Keeps Us Exploited, Exhausted, and Alone by Sarah Jaffe. Jackson: That is a title that does not pull any punches. Olivia: Not at all. And Jaffe is the perfect person to write this. She's not an academic in an ivory tower; she's a labor journalist who spent over a decade on the ground, reporting on these issues. Her own early experiences in retail during a recession really shaped her perspective, which makes the book feel incredibly grounded and real. Jackson: Okay, I'm intrigued. A dangerous trap. Where do we even start? Olivia: We'll dive deep into this from three perspectives. First, we'll explore how the 'labor of love' became the biggest con of the modern workplace. Then, we'll look at the real human cost of this myth, from the family home to the tech world. And finally, we'll focus on the powerful antidote the book proposes: solidarity.

Jackson: Alright, a 'con' is a strong word. How did this idea of loving our work even start? It feels so natural now, like it’s always been this way. Olivia: That’s the illusion. Jaffe argues it’s a relatively recent invention. For a long time, especially during what was called the "Fordist compromise" in the mid-20th century, the deal was different. Work was work. It was often boring, sometimes brutal, but it wasn't supposed to be your life's passion. The deal was: you give the company 40 hours a week, and in return, you get a stable paycheck, a pension, and the ability to build a life outside of work. Jackson: The classic 9-to-5. You clock in, you clock out, and your time is your own. Olivia: Exactly. But then, starting in the 70s and 80s, neoliberalism came along. Think leaders like Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan. Jaffe uses this chilling quote from Thatcher: "Economics are the method: the object is to change the soul." The goal wasn't just to change policies; it was to change how we think about ourselves, our communities, and our work. Jackson: To change the soul. That’s… ambitious. And a little terrifying. Olivia: It is. The social safety net was dismantled, unions were crushed, and the responsibility for success or failure was shifted entirely onto the individual. Suddenly, you weren't just a worker; you were an entrepreneur of your own life. And in that new world, your job wasn't just a job anymore. It had to be a calling, a passion, a source of self-fulfillment. Jackson: Because if you fail, it’s your fault for not being passionate enough, not because the system is rigged. Olivia: Precisely. And Jaffe tells this incredible story from Lordstown, Ohio, that just perfectly illustrates the "before" picture. General Motors had a plant there for decades. She interviewed the workers after it closed in 2019. And they were brutally honest. One retired worker, Chuckie Denison, described the plant as "like prison" and the management as "the little SS or the Gestapo." Jackson: Wow. So they definitely didn't "love" their jobs. Olivia: Not even close. They hated the work itself. It was alienating, repetitive, and dehumanizing. But they all said it was a good job. Why? Because it was a union job. It paid a family wage. It had benefits. It allowed them to buy a house, send their kids to college, and have a life. They didn't need the work to love them back; they needed it to pay the bills so they could go find love and meaning with their families and friends. Jackson: That distinction is so important. They weren't looking for fulfillment on the assembly line; they were looking for a paycheck that let them find fulfillment outside of work. That makes so much sense. Olivia: It’s the core of the old contract. But that contract is gone. Now, we're told to find that fulfillment on the assembly line, or in the classroom, or in the art studio. Jackson: But what about those jobs? What about the professions that really do feel like a calling, like teaching or art or working for a cause you believe in? Surely the 'labor of love' isn't a con there, is it?

Olivia: That's the brilliant and tragic part of Jaffe's argument. The myth is most powerful and most dangerous in those very fields. She traces the whole concept back to its origin point: the unpaid work of women in the home. Jackson: The original labor of love. Olivia: The absolute original. For centuries, the work of cooking, cleaning, raising children, and providing emotional support—work that is essential for society to function—wasn't considered work at all. It was just what women did out of love. It was naturalized, made invisible, and completely devalued economically. Jaffe argues that this exact model has now been professionalized and applied to the modern workforce. Jackson: So the expectation that a mother should care for her family for free is the same logic that expects a teacher to buy her own classroom supplies or a non-profit worker to accept a lower salary? Olivia: It's the exact same logic. And she tells the story of Ray Malone, a theater artist and single mother in London, and it just connects all these dots so powerfully. Ray is passionate about her art, it’s her calling. But as a single mom, she's also performing this immense labor of care for her daughter, Nola. Jackson: Two labors of love at once. Olivia: And society devalues both. As an artist, she’s expected to struggle for her craft. As a single mother, she faces stigma and a punitive welfare system. At one point, she's homeless, relying on Universal Credit, and the people at the job center are judging her for her life choices instead of recognizing the immense value of the work she's doing, both as a creator and a caregiver. Jackson: Wait, so the system devalues her work as an artist and her work as a mother, and both are framed as things she should just do for 'love'? That's a brutal double bind. Olivia: It’s a perfect storm of exploitation. Ray starts an embroidery project depicting parents in the job center, turning her experience into political art. She also starts something called the Fallout Club, a support group for single parents to politicize their situation. She realizes that the shame and isolation she feels are not personal failings; they are systemic. Jackson: That’s incredible. She’s fighting back by creating community. But this pattern seems to be everywhere. I'm thinking of the tech industry, which sells itself as this fun, creative playground. Olivia: Jaffe calls it "playbor." The lines between work and play are deliberately blurred. Think of the video game industry. She tells the story of Kevin Agwaze, a young German programmer. He went to a specialized coding school that basically trained him to accept brutal working conditions. Long hours and high-pressure "crunch time" were framed as a sign of passion and dedication. Jackson: The ultimate "work hard, play hard" culture. Olivia: Except the "play hard" part happens at the office, too. Free food, ping-pong tables, social events—it's all designed to keep you there, to make the office your entire life. Kevin said his company's motto was literally, "We know that if we want to make fun games, we also have to have fun making games." But he realized "fun" was just a mask for excessive, unpaid overtime. Jackson: It's the cheese in the mousetrap. It looks like a treat, but it's part of the trap to keep you there longer. Olivia: Exactly. And it’s why this book has been so highly-rated but also polarizing for some readers. It’s a tough pill to swallow that our passions, the things we genuinely love, are being systematically weaponized against us. Jackson: I can see that. It forces you to question your own motivations and your relationship with your career. It's all pretty bleak. If work is a trap, what's the escape plan? Does Jaffe offer any hope?

Olivia: She does. And it's a powerful one. The escape plan isn't individual. It's not about finding a better job or setting better boundaries, though those things help. The real escape is collective. It's about redirecting that love and devotion away from the boss, away from the company, and towards each other. Jackson: So, solidarity. Olivia: Solidarity. And the story that embodies this more than any other in the book is that of Ann Marie Reinhart. She worked at Toys 'R' Us for 29 years. Jackson: Twenty-nine years. That's incredible loyalty. Olivia: She was the model employee. She started as a temporary holiday worker and rose to supervisor. She loved the company. She said they were flexible when she had kids, they always worked with her. She sacrificed holidays, dealt with abusive customers—one threw a toy at her face and left a scar—all out of dedication. She truly believed the company cared about her. Jackson: I have a bad feeling about where this is going. Olivia: In 2005, Toys 'R' Us was bought by private equity firms, including Bain Capital and KKR. They loaded the company with billions in debt. For years, the workers on the ground felt the squeeze—understaffing, budget cuts—but they kept working hard. Then, in 2018, the company declared bankruptcy and announced it was liquidating. All the stores were closing. Jackson: And after 29 years, what did Ann Marie get? Olivia: Nothing. No severance. 30,000 people were laid off with nothing. The private equity firms were walking away with millions, and the workers who had dedicated their lives to the company were left with pink slips. Jackson: That is just… infuriating. Olivia: It was a profound betrayal. But this is where the story turns. Ann Marie didn't just go home and despair. She got angry. She connected with a worker advocacy group, United for Respect, and she became an activist. This woman who had quietly worked in a toy store for three decades was now organizing protests, speaking to senators, and fighting for the severance pay she and her coworkers deserved. Jackson: She found a new cause to be passionate about. Olivia: A real one. She and her fellow former employees fought for months. And they won. They pressured the private equity firms to create a $20 million severance fund for the laid-off workers. Jackson: Wow. So her love for her coworkers, for justice, became more powerful than her loyalty to the company that betrayed her. Olivia: That's the real labor of love right there. It’s not about loving your job. It’s about loving your fellow human beings enough to fight for them. Jaffe shows this pattern again and again—with the teachers in Los Angeles striking for smaller class sizes and nurses for their patients, with the Google workers walking out to protest sexual harassment. The power isn't in individual passion; it's in collective care.

Jackson: It’s such a radical reframing. We’re taught to invest all our emotional energy into climbing the corporate ladder, into our personal brand, into our job performance. Olivia: And Jaffe's ultimate message is that work will never be a substitute for that human connection. It can't be. The system isn't designed for that. Capitalism's greatest trick, as she puts it, was convincing us that a job could be our greatest love. Because as long as we believe that, we stay isolated, we compete with each other, and we remain exploitable. Jackson: But when that illusion shatters, like it did for Ann Marie Reinhart, people start looking for love and connection in the right place: with each other. Olivia: Exactly. The conclusion of the book is a call to reclaim love from work. To stop demanding that our jobs fulfill our every emotional need and to start demanding that they provide us with the time and resources to build fulfilling lives with the people we actually love. It’s about fighting for a world where we work to live, not live to work. Jackson: It really makes you ask yourself a fundamental question: where am I investing my love? In my job title, or in the people around me? Olivia: That's the question we want to leave with everyone. It's a challenging one, and there's no easy answer. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Find us on our socials and share your experiences. Does your job love you back? Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.