W.When you feel overwhelmed by unhappiness, the last thing you want to do is grit your teeth and prepare for a day of work. Whether you're experiencing a mental health issue or simply dealing with a temporary depression of mood, dealing with the demands of the workday when you're in a bad mood can feel like walking across concrete. Basic tasks become unfathomable tasks; simple requests from colleagues turn into veiled mockery; Criticism that you would normally ignore is unbearable.
On a day like this, the temptation is to cut your losses and call in sick: when you're working under a cloud of bad mood, there's little chance you can even pretend to appear productive. But instead of citing mental health as the reason behind our absence, many of us will fake a physical illness. We will temporarily develop a hoarse voice to appear more affected by the flu on the phone, or tell a dramatic story about food poisoning to avoid the truth, because despite all the campaigns and pastel Instagram infographics Telling us that it is “good talk,” the harsh reality is that opening up about mental health is still incredibly difficult. Wouldn't it be so much easier if you could call “unhappy” instead, no questions asked?
For employers at the Pang Dong Lai supermarket chain in China's Henan province, this is becoming a reality. At a business conference last month, company founder Yu Donglai revealed that his staff can have up to 10 “unhappy days” a year, in addition to their usual sick leave and vacations. “I want all staff members to have freedom,” he said. “Everyone has times when they're not happy, so if you're not happy, don't come to work.” Yu also made it very clear that managers cannot reject their employees' leave requests either. “Denial is rape,” he added.
China is known for its unforgiving work culture: the controversial “966” system, under which many employees are expected to work from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week, is considered a badge of honor for some industry workers. technological (even though this practice is actually illegal). Last week, the head of public relations for the country's largest search engine, Baidu, came under fire for sharing videos that glorified overwork and suggested that employees should not complain about 50-day work trips. But while expectations don't tend to be as extreme in the UK (unless you're working for a magic circle law firm or an investment bank, perhaps), the introduction of “unhappiness leave” would still be a game. Changing table for workers here.
In 2018, a study by occupational health service BHSF found that two-fifths of UK employees had called in sick with a physical illness when they were actually suffering from poor mental health. Although there are some statistics that suggest that younger generations are increasingly comfortable telling their bosses that they need a mental health day, last year a survey by workplace wellness platform Unmind found that 66 percent of workers between 16 and 25 years old had taken time off. due to poor mental health; Many of us still struggle to express this, to the point where even sharing a white lie feels less daunting. A general term like “unhappiness leave” might make it easier for employees to honestly ask for the day off, without having to get into too many difficult details with their boss. It's also a far cry from “duvet day,” the corny term some companies have adopted as an alternative to “mental health day.”
Of course, there's the argument that employees taking time off for unhappiness addresses the symptom rather than the cause: It could act as a Band-Aid, covering up the issues that might be making workers feel depressed in the first place. place. Surely, a measure like this would have to be accompanied by other measures to restore work-life balance in the long term: flexible working, strict rules on overtime, no emails outside of working hours, to name a few . But in the short term, I would gladly trade two work weeks of unhappiness leave for the misleading policies imposed on workers in the name of “mental health awareness” (a concept that, naturally, often only seems to exist in the most workplaces during mental crisis). Health Awareness Week, before conveniently dematerializing).
Furthermore, an episode of “unhappiness leave” in a team would act as a warning sign. If everyone is poorly disguised as various imaginary ailments, then it's hard to see a pattern emerging: your boss might tell himself that flu season is to blame for half your team being wiped out, for example, and not overwork and exhaustion. .
Too often, workplace wellness measures are overly sanitized, confusing one-time, random gifts with helpful actions. I don't want someone coming into the office offering head massages in a boardroom filled with eau de Pret sandwiches. I don't want a lunchtime yoga class that no one has time to attend, or be directed to an internal website telling me to download the Headspace app for the millionth time. I would prefer to be able to benefit from a plan that recognizes that, yes, “unhappiness” can sometimes have a major impact on whether or not one can do one's job effectively. A policy that does not shy away from calling sadness what it is. You would not do that?
