A reader is entitled to three weeks off but can’t shake the feeling that taking them would be selfish, uncommitted or proof they’re expendable. Ask an Ethicist columnist Vera Cherepanova recognizes the setup for what it is: an ethical trap where every worry doubles back into a reason to stay at your desk.
"I would like to take three weeks off work, which I’m formally entitled to, but I keep hearing this is a bad idea. If the company can manage without me for three weeks, will that mean I am expendable? Will it make me look less committed than others? And will it be unfair to the rest of the team, who will have to cover my work? Would taking so much time off be selfish or irresponsible, or, in an age of ‘unprecedented technological progress and AI-driven productivity,’ is it finally perfectly ethical to take care of yourself when you need it?" – No One Ever
This deeply relatable quandary, voiced by an anonymous reader, encapsulates a pervasive modern workplace paradox. The reader’s anxieties—the fear of appearing expendable, the concern about commitment, and the worry of burdening colleagues—form a classic ethical trap. In this scenario, every potential outcome of taking a deserved break is twisted into a justification for continued labor, creating a self-perpetuating cycle of guilt and obligation.
The history of labor and leisure offers a stark contrast to this contemporary struggle. In 1930, economist John Maynard Keynes, a figure synonymous with forward-thinking economic theory, made a bold prediction. He posited that by the year 2030, advancements in technology and rising global prosperity would enable individuals in developed economies to work a mere 15 hours per week. This vision of a leisure-rich future, fueled by unprecedented productivity gains, now seems remarkably distant, particularly in the context of the reader’s dilemma.
The Unfulfilled Promise of Leisure
As we navigate 2026, Keynes’s optimistic forecast appears to be a distant mirage for many. The reality for a significant portion of the white-collar workforce is far more demanding, with many professionals regularly logging 50-hour weeks or more. Certain high-pressure industries, such as investment banking, present an even more extreme picture, with some employees reportedly working between 80 and 120 hours weekly. Even the concept of a four-day workweek, a prominent aspiration for improved work-life balance, remains largely aspirational rather than a widespread reality.
Keynes’s economic foresight, however, was not entirely misplaced. The United States, for instance, has indeed achieved the level of wealth and productivity he envisioned, significantly outpacing economic growth in regions like Europe and Japan. The disconnect lies not in the creation of prosperity, but in its translation into tangible reductions in working hours and increased leisure time. The wealth generated has not automatically translated into more free time for the average worker.
Historical data reveals a more nuanced, yet still concerning, trend. While the average American today works approximately 1,200 fewer hours annually compared to their counterparts in the late 19th century, a closer examination of household labor reveals a more complex picture. In the 1880s, the typical married American couple collectively averaged around 67 hours of paid work per week. Remarkably, this figure remained largely unchanged in 2020, standing at still approximately 67 hours.
A Shifting Landscape of Labor and Home
This apparent stagnation in total working hours masks profound societal transformations. The entry of women into the paid workforce, driven by innovations in household automation and significant cultural and economic shifts, has fundamentally altered the division of labor. As women reduced their hours spent on domestic chores, they increasingly entered the paid labor market, contributing to the workforce outside the home.
Concurrently, many married men experienced a reversed trend. The adoption of new technologies, from agricultural machinery like tractors to personal computing devices, enhanced productivity within their paid working hours. This increased efficiency allowed men, over time, to allocate more of their non-paid hours to domestic responsibilities, including chores, errands, and childcare. However, these intricate dynamics do not fully account for why a society that has achieved such immense wealth and productivity has not realized the radical reduction in working hours or the substantial increase in time off that Keynes anticipated.
The Compounding Pressures of Modern Life
Several interconnected factors contribute to this enduring work-centric culture, extending beyond the simple mechanics of technological adoption. Rising costs of living play a significant role, but so too do escalating societal expectations regarding what constitutes a comfortable and successful life. The financial burdens associated with homeownership, raising children, and caring for aging family members have all increased considerably over the decades.
The modern iteration of "keeping up with the Joneses" has also become a more formidable challenge. In an era of constant comparison, facilitated by ubiquitous digital platforms, it is difficult to feel genuinely prosperous when daily life presents a continuous reminder of others’ perceived advantages. The allure of preferential treatment, whether it be expedited services, premium seating, or exclusive membership tiers, fuels a desire for a higher standard of living, often necessitating longer working hours to attain. The implicit promise of a better life, symbolized by these tiered experiences, creates a powerful incentive to remain in the workforce and maximize earning potential.
The pervasive influence of mass consumerism, coupled with evolving social norms, creates a powerful impetus to match or exceed the lifestyle of peers. This can result in a "hedonic treadmill effect," where individuals feel compelled to work more to afford the next acquisition of luxury goods or desired experiences. The normalization and encouragement of debt to finance these aspirations further complicate the ethical landscape, creating a feedback loop that perpetuates the demand for higher incomes and, consequently, more working hours.
The cumulative effect of these pressures can lead to widespread exhaustion, frustration, and a pervasive sense of unhappiness, even among individuals in upper-middle-class households. The constant drive to keep pace with societal expectations and financial demands can push individuals beyond their perceived limits.
The Cult of Busyness and the AI Paradox
Beyond economic and consumerist pressures, a significant cultural shift has occurred: the valorization of work itself. Among many professional circles, extended working hours have become a de facto status symbol. As the reader astutely observes, busyness is frequently conflated with importance, constant availability is equated with commitment, and the notion of being indispensable is often perceived as the ultimate professional compliment. However, the question remains: is indispensability a truly accurate measure of an individual’s value or their organization’s long-term health?
The advent of Artificial Intelligence (AI) was heralded by many as a potential catalyst for reducing working hours, fulfilling a portion of Keynes’s prediction. The expectation was that AI-driven productivity gains would free up human workers to pursue more leisure activities. However, recent evidence suggests a more complex and, in some cases, counterproductive outcome. Studies indicate that AI is, paradoxically, leading some individuals to work more. For instance, a survey revealed that 18% of software developers reported experiencing AI-related exhaustion.
The reality appears to be that AI agents, rather than simply automating tasks, often multiply the amount of work that humans must initiate, monitor, correct, and coordinate. The human role can transform into that of an "AI babysitter," requiring constant context switching between different agents, leading to cognitive overload and a pressure to ensure machines are operational around the clock. Some individuals are now setting AI tasks overnight, only to check their output before breakfast, blurring the lines between work and personal time. Instead of a shorter workweek, there is a growing concern that we may be drifting toward an "infinite" workday, where the demands of managing AI systems never truly cease.
Reclaiming Time: The Personal Imperative
Technology, in itself, does not automatically bestow leisure time. Instead, it provides organizations and individuals with the enhanced capacity to produce more output. The opportunity to generate greater productivity appears boundless, unless deliberate limits are consciously imposed. This suggests that the cycle of sacrificing well-being for material gain or the relentless pursuit of output is not an inevitable consequence of technological advancement, but rather a choice.
The current trajectory appears to be one where individuals are sacrificing their well-being for the next consumer good, a newer car, a designer handbag, or simply converting every available hour into productive output. The challenging news is that neither external forces, nor even advanced AI, can unilaterally grant permission to pause. This authority rests solely with the individual. Therefore, the imperative is to recognize and break free from this self-imposed ethical trap. The reader’s three weeks of vacation time are formally theirs. The act of taking them is not an act of selfishness, but a necessary step towards reclaiming personal autonomy and well-being. The advice is clear: take the time off, and resist the urge to constantly check if you are being missed. The true measure of one’s value is not their constant presence, but their sustained contribution and their ability to return refreshed and rejuvenated.
A Brief Interlude: The Columnist’s Break
In recognition of the very principles discussed, the "Ask an Ethicist" column will also be taking a summer break following this installment. The columnist will be stepping away to enjoy the remaining summer months, with a return scheduled for September.
Reader Feedback and Ethical Governance
The preceding edition of "Ask an Ethicist" addressed a critical query from an independent director grappling with increasingly complex board decisions, particularly those involving Artificial Intelligence, cybersecurity, and robotics. The director’s dilemma centered on whether admitting a lack of full comprehension regarding a material issue was compatible with their fiduciary duties. This raised pertinent questions about humility, competence, the performance of confidence, corporate board culture, the duty of care, and the appropriate methods for directors to seek further information or expert support without undermining their authority.
In response, the columnist highlighted the legal frameworks governing directors’ responsibilities. In U.S. corporate law, particularly in Delaware, the duty of care mandates informed decision-making. Similarly, in the United Kingdom, directors are statutorily obligated to exercise reasonable care, skill, and diligence.
The response referenced the foundational philosophy of governance and director qualifications articulated by John Weinberg in his seminal 1948 Princeton thesis. Weinberg emphasized that a director must not only be willing to direct but, crucially, "must know enough to direct." He further posited that a "comprehensive educational program" is the primary step towards ensuring this knowledge.
This underscores that the duty of care inherently includes the responsibility for continuous learning. When an organizational culture expects directors to project unwavering confidence rather than acknowledge knowledge gaps, it signals a significant governance concern. Reframing this, the duty of care should encompass the recognition of when one’s knowledge is insufficient, prompting the pursuit of clarification, expert input, or additional time for deliberation. Such actions, rather than being perceived as weaknesses, should be viewed as strengths that fortify decision-making and uphold robust governance standards.
A reader, MMA, offered a complementary perspective, emphasizing the broader implications for organizational culture: "Indeed, this kind of vulnerability should be a foundation for building and nurturing a strong organizational culture. When leaders are willing to acknowledge what they do not know, it creates psychological safety for others to speak up, ask questions and close knowledge gaps across the organization. This honesty from the top can turn uncertainty into better governance, stronger decisions and a more resilient culture." This feedback underscores the interconnectedness of individual ethical conduct and the collective strength of an organization’s culture and governance practices.
Have a response? Share your feedback on what I got right (or wrong). Send me your comments or questions.
