Bullshit jobs, fear of energy restrictions and Anthropocene insecurity… reflections on valuing time for oneself, progressive sufficiency policies for all and more-than-human intelligence.
Imagine a world in which Franz Kafka was free to write at leisure. Would the insurance officer’s existential angst have been eased by not having to fit his stories in between handling compensation claims? Would life have been more satisfying had his ‘bread and butter’ been writing, as opposed to his free time being filled with more work?
‘One morning Gregor Samsa woke in his bed from uneasy dreams and found he had turned into a large verminous insect’ – the opening line to Metamorphosis speaks to all those who feel trapped by societal constraints; the travelling salesman, dramatically transformed from one day to the next, can no longer feign fitting into a productive work scheme, a respectable home life….
After the truth-shower 