You are just your bosses’ little bitch
Workplace dictatorships.
It’s funny, isn’t it? (It isn’t.) We’re told we live in democracies—lands of freedom, of endless possibility, every voice counts, public discourse, elected institutions, and so on. The whole spiel. Yet, every fucking day, we march into the office (or another workplace of our “choice”—doesn’t really matter for the argument) shackled not by physical chains but by contracts and the need to survive. Our workdays become endless parades of submission, where we’re forced to dance to the tune of corporate overlords and their managerial disciples.
“Hey, can you do this stupid thing real quick, Antonio? It will cost a lot and there will be no benefit to the business, but I want it done this exact, cumbersome way even though you know more about this thing than me and advised me not to do it.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. In the meeting, we talked about how…”
“Please just do it.”
“Of course, sir! Anything else?” 😃😃😃
Democracy? Where is it? How can one speak of democracy when the majority of our time is spent in totalitarian dictatorships? If the boss says “Bend over!” you oblige because you need to eat. Democracy (as defined by… everyone?) is apparently spending five minutes every couple of years to check a box. No one ever talks about democratizing workplaces. Every damn company—except a couple cooperatives here and there—is a dictatorship and no one ever mentions it. Am I going insane?
Anyway, I woke up last week with a fever and the usual bruised ego, missing a couple of days at work because my body finally gave in (no one stays the fuck home when they’re sick!). On the first day back, I found myself thinking again: How the hell did I sign up for this? How the hell is this the norm? See, it’s not just a job; it’s a daily act of surrender to an authoritarian regime hidden behind the veneer of “corporate culture.” We’re all just little bitches, you and me, forced to bend over and smile, selling our precious little time alive for peanuts, praying that our compliance will keep us off the firing line. Yes, sir. Right now, sir? Immediately, sir!
The irony is that even the so-called “alpha” men—the testosterone-fueled kings of the manosphere (the ones idolizing the likes of Andrew Tate and Elon Musk, you know who I mean)—are nothing more than order-takers. They bark out macho posturing on social media, preaching strength and independence, yet in the confines of their workplaces, they grovel for approval from the higher-ups, posturing and competing like cute little puppies. A pat on the head from the manager becomes the highlight of the day. Their toxic masculinity is just another mask for the same humiliation (or perhaps caused by it?—someone should do a study): in the corporate battlefield, no one escapes the whip of the boss.
Lives ruled by a paradox: we’re supposedly free citizens in vibrant democracies (politicians never get tired of repeating those mantras), but our waking hours are dominated by totalitarian structures. Bosses wield almost unlimited power over our lives. They decide how we should think, what we should do, and when we can dare to breathe freely. The threat of losing our jobs—our only semblance of security in this fucked-up world—forces us to sacrifice our dignity every single day. The modern workplace is not a democratic forum but a hierarchical prison where we’re all forced to perform our predetermined roles.
A single (!) act of voting every couple of years vs. serving a master at least 40 hours a week, every week. Yeah, I can feel the democracy so hard. I feel so very free. Mhhmm I can barely contain myself, my life is so self-determined!
The obvious escape routes are not escape routes (to me)
Escape route 1: Change jobs
Cool, you now serve another master. Perhaps he will treat you better, perhaps not. Congratulations.
Escape route 2: Make your own business
Ah, the great promise. The “alpha men” love this. By hustling, by bending over backward, you’ll eventually “make your own business.” Bullshit. For most of us, the dream of entrepreneurship is as distant as a utopia. We lack the capital, the networks, and the freedom to innovate outside the boundaries of big business. And even if we did somehow manage to break away, yeah, what then? You become the new master. Fuck that! I don’t want to be anyone’s grand ruler. I want everyone to be free. I will not go around exploiting people to feel better. That’s my little ideological reason and it may sound stupid to many of you.
There are other problems with “making your own business”. Everything is saturated (yeah, I could, with some loans, open a book shop and then I’ll go bankrupt two months later), the low-hanging innovation fruit is long gone (most “innovation” now happens in giant corporations who possess the required capital), having a business is just being slave to other masters (banks, taxes, expenses), and many more. Let’s move on.
Escape route 3: Win the lottery (trade crypto) or inherit money
Good luck, honestly. I’m rooting for you. (Also, my family has nothing.)
I’ve always had a strong natural aversion to authority—a trait that made school feel like a personal vendetta against conformity. I couldn’t stomach the arbitrary rules, the unearned power wielded by teachers who didn’t even know how to handle a damn PDF yet somehow commanded respect. The worst was pointing out a mistake the teacher made and them not acknowledging it but persisting. Drove me mad. I was always like that.
And the same dynamic persists in the workplace: competence is sidelined by the sheer absurdity of power dynamics and relationship gaming. Bosses and managers, not seldom walking embodiments of incompetence who somehow got the business handed to them or got promoted on the merit of “well, they were there and didn’t cause trouble,” fumble with basic tasks while reaping obscene rewards. Value isn’t measured by skill or innovation but by the ability to play the game of submission.
I’d much less mind (but still somewhat mind) a competent, empathetic boss who values independence and creative thinking. I’ve encountered a couple of those, but they usually get sidelined in the promotion game because they are not sociopaths. They are rare, and they often don’t “play the game.”
I fantasize about a day when we’re no longer shackled by these hierarchies based on nothing—a day when oppressive workplace cultures dissolve into nothingness. I’d even rather take orders from an AI over an egotistic human. There, I said it. At least you don’t have to suck up to an algorithm and laugh at its terrible and, interestingly, often somewhat offensive jokes. Sure, there are a million problems with serving an AI (why would it even need me?), but that’s a topic for another day I guess.
The raw truth is this: our workplaces are modern-day dictatorships. Our lives are hence mostly spent in dictatorships. Totalitarian ones even, counting every minute, every mouse click, every toilet break, deciding when you can have a day off to live and when not. Rewarding and punishing at will, with carrots and with whips. We trade our autonomy for a paycheck, our dreams for deadlines. And we’re forced to smile and nod at all that. Every email, every pointless meeting, every soul-sapping report is another nail in the coffin of our individuality. No wonder so many people beyond the age of like 35 don’t have a personality anymore.
We’re all so submissive and most of us don’t seem to mind.
See ya around,
Antonio
Watch the video version of this essay:
I’m with you, Antonio - the only thing I’d say, there are degrees of freedom (e.g. working for yourself still means sacrificing some autonomy but less than in a shit, huge corporation) and that matters. Living with more freedom is better than living with less - we can always improve our circumstances.
I think that many people will think you are being too extreme and that not having a boss is impossible.
But for most of human existence, even until very recently, most working people were farmers, skilled craftsmen (with perhaps a 7 year apprenticeship where you had a “boss”.)
The country was founded / intended for yeoman farmers, settlers and the occasional merchant.