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When I was little, I didn’t have many choices. I was told when to wake up, when to go to school, when to practice the violin, and when to call grandma. Even when we went out to dinner, my parents ordered the pizza that came to feed the family.
It’s probably why I loved Baskin Robbins so much. Baskin Robbins. I can still see the whole place in my mind. My eye-level vantage point remains that of my 6-year-old self, so that if I stand on tip-toes I could just about look in and see the vats of ice cream. The neon green of Mint Chip. The chocolaty goop of Rocky Road. The psychedelic swirls of Rainbow Sherbet. 31 flavors. I’d walk back and forth and forth and back to make sure I knew every option, with the deliciously sticky smell of the shop filling my nostrils. And when I finally chose Bubble Gum, no one said, “Now dear, why did you choose that instead of a normal flavor like vanilla?” It was heaven. I had choice.
Human beings love choice. It’s probably why they like restaurants and shoe stores and Amazon. Personal choice is central to personal agency. It’s the feeling that we are the masters of our own ship, directors of our own fate. The fact is though, that, throughout life, we don’t have that many choices. Most of us have to wake up every day, get ready for work, and make money to take care of ourselves and others. Many of us, but not all, have been able to choose how we make that money, but, once we choose, it’s not that easy to change. And the people we work for generally give us a schedule that dictates when and where we work. Hardly Baskin Robbins.
During the pandemic, however, some of us had a little bit more personal choice about how we spent our time. Like to get up at 5 am? You could work for three hours and then help your child log on to remote school. Like to stay up late at night? You could eat with your family and work until 2. Like to take a run in the middle of the day? As long as you got your work done, why not? And while you’re at it, knock yourself out and take a shower before returning to your screen. When was the last time you did that at work?
As society wraps its mind around the idea that we are now “post-pandemic,” will we lose that small element of personal choice? How will it affect us? Or perhaps the better question is—how can we maintain it? Will we be able to retain some ability to decide how and when we work, eat, see our families, exercise, and care for ourselves?
That’s a question facing many Americans today. A recent survey from PricewaterhouseCoopers that surveyed 133 executives and 1,200 office workers indicated that the two groups had different ideas about personal choice and re-entry. For example, 55 percent of workers surveyed said that they preferred to be remote 3 days a week after the pandemic, while 68 percent of executives said that a typical employee should be in the office at least 3 days a week.
The idea that workers and employers have different ideas about how to optimize the workplace isn’t new, but what is new is that, thanks to the pandemic, many workers had over a year to taste the benefits of more personal choice. And although many of them were vastly limited in their ability to choose other things about their lives during the lockdown, in many cases the day-to-day choices about how to use their time is something they don’t want to lose.
I would argue that having some personal choice is central to mental health. It cuts across all fields of work and all corners of society. Can I take a day off to go to a parent-teacher conference? Can I accept a doctor’s appointment in the middle of the day? Can I work at home for a month while I nurse my sick father back to health? Can I take 2 hours a week to go to a therapy appointment? If we feel we can do this, we feel empowered; if we don’t, we feel trapped.
In most cases, maintaining some personal choice will mean doing some negotiating in the next weeks or months. To do that best, I’d recommend picking up a copy of the book that I’m most likely to recommend to patients: Getting to Yes. This slim volume is my negotiating bible. You can read it in an afternoon. It asserts that the best way to “get to yes"—that is, to a negotiated agreement that benefits both sides—is to negotiate for principles, rather than positions. In this case, rather than drawing a line in the sand that says either you will or won’t go back to the office, try using these steps:
- Identify the things that have made the most difference to you during the pandemic. Have you really enjoyed having that extra hour to take your child to school? Has it made a real difference to you to be able to exercise every day? Has it been wonderful to be home for dinner with the family and then finish your work later? What are the essential things you want to be able to choose?
- Ask the people with whom you work about how you can incorporate these essential personal choices into your work life. Not asking is a sure way to not get what you want!
- Be flexible—even if you don’t get exactly what you want, having some choice and creating a more flexible schedule will make an enormous difference.
Today I wouldn’t choose bubble gum ice cream, but I do choose daily time on my yoga mat. What choices feel most meaningful to you?
References
Fisher R and Ury WL (2011). Getting to Yes. Penguin Books, NY
