Ever wanted to ditch the 9-to-5 and teach snowsports? We followed people who did it for 10 years
- Written by Marian Makkar, Senior Lecturer in Marketing, RMIT University
Workplace burnout – a state of emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion – and the COVID pandemic have sparked a rethink of the traditional 9-to-5 job.
It’s been estimated 30%[1] of the Australian workforce is experiencing some degree of burnout, raising serious concerns about the possible impacts on mental health.
Is it possible – and if so, wise – to take addressing burnout into your own hands? Some responses to the problem, such as “micro-retirement[2]”, have enjoyed recent popularity on social media.
But a small number of people take an even more radical approach – dumping the 9-to-5 path entirely for careers that prioritise meaning, enjoyment and personal growth. We sought to find out how this move played out for one group in particular – snowsports instructors.
Our research[3] – published in the International Journal of Research in Marketing – covers a 10.5-year study of snowsports instructors who left their 9-to-5 jobs for a meaningful career on the slopes of Canada, Japan, the United States and New Zealand.
We looked at instructors’ journeys into the lifestyle, how they managed their new careers, and what led some to eventually return to the 9-to-5.
Chasing winter
We interviewed 13 snowsports instructors aged 25 to 40 (seven men, six women), collected image and video artefacts, followed social media accounts and surveyed snow school reports. Our lead researcher also participated in the lifestyle herself.
All our participants had at least a bachelor degree and previous steady careers in fields such as education or information technology.
During our decade-long field work, we found instructors earned just enough money to maintain this lifestyle, often travelling with their possessions in one or two bags.
Beyond the adrenaline and beauty of a life in the snow, we found people were first motivated to enter this career to escape the corporate world and ties of modern life. One participant, Lars, said:
If you just get a job, you get maybe 20 days off a year for the next 40 years, and once you stop, once you’ve got a job and a house and a mortgage and a kid […] you’re trapped.
A sense of accomplishment
At the centre of our research was the idea of building a career around the ancient Greek concept of “eudaimonia”. This term is sometimes translated to “happiness” in English, but its broader connotations mean it’s closer to “flourishing[5]” and involves a sense of purpose and living a life of virtue.
That’s in contrast to the related concept of “hedonism[6]” – which centres on the pursuit of pleasure for its own sake. Eudaimonia is meant to make us reflect on life’s purpose, potential and meaning.
As our participants mastered the sport and career, they moved from mere enjoyment or hedonism of being in the snow to finding meaning and purpose in their jobs.
They felt a sense of accomplishment and appreciation of snowsports as a sport and job requiring dedication, care and commitment.
Challenges along the way
However, with every career there are demands that shape how people manage work and purposeful pursuits. Instructors must bear financial costs such as buying their own equipment, paying for certifications and accommodation.
Eventually the lifestyle was not sustainable for some due to precarious working conditions and minimal wages. Relying on the weather to produce snow, unfair compensation and fixed-term contracts wore many down.
An unhappy participant confessed:
You think about money all day everyday […] working out the costs, staffing and lesson prices! Yet they (ski resort managers) tell me as an instructor that I shouldn’t think about my monetary work. Well, if it wasn’t about the money, you wouldn’t charge as much for lessons.
In the period we studied, six returned to a regular 9-to-5 job.
An alternative to meaningless jobs?
The late American anthropologist David Graeber coined the phrase “bullshit jobs[7]” to describe jobs that comprise meaningless tasks that add no real value aside from providing a salary.
Our study offers a window into the lives of those who sought an alternative, trying to build something they love into the daily work they do to earn a living.
For many, despite challenges the ability to ride slopes daily remained more appealing than a desk job. One told us:
At university my first management lecturer said, ‘you could go on to be a CEO, earn $300,000 a year and have a month off every year to go skiing’, and I said, ‘or I could go skiing every day and still afford to eat and pay my rent’. It’s all I really need.
But things didn’t work out for all of them. The experience of those who left suggests choosing meaningful work can be difficult and can force people out if the surrounding organisational system is not supportive.
References
- ^ 30% (theconversation.com)
- ^ micro-retirement (theconversation.com)
- ^ research (www.sciencedirect.com)
- ^ Kevin503/Shutterstock (www.shutterstock.com)
- ^ flourishing (ethics.org.au)
- ^ hedonism (ethics.org.au)
- ^ bullshit jobs (theconversation.com)
- ^ Shutterstock (www.shutterstock.com)
Authors: Marian Makkar, Senior Lecturer in Marketing, RMIT University
