Somewhere, there’s probably someone who just absolutely, unironically loves fixing backed-up toilets and mucking about in sewers, and who just doesn’t understand why his profession–his labour of love–is constantly being used as a counter-example to claims that people would work without a profit motive.
And just as important: most people declog their own toilet and when needed fix the toilets of their friends and do not feel particularily terrible about it. They may even feel satisfied at the result of being able to fix a problem. Everyone finds almost all work tolerable and even fun in small portions.
But take something a person LOVES, whatever it is, and let a person do the thing they love for 40 hours a week under supervision, and within a year almost everyone longs for the weekend. What ruins work is its repetitive, forced nature.
We work for fun all the time, we only do jobs to survive. The problem isn’t work, its jobs.
QueerAnarchism 