Even without the technical know-how of exactly how something was made or brought to the consumer, how much effort it requires, it is possible to reorient our knowledge of the world; to look at a building and wonder who built it, and under which conditions. When we do this, we can see everything around us as a product of human effort, of world-makin

Fordism wasn’t a revolution in technology alone – the production line isn’t just a piece of neutral infrastructure. It’s also a technology of control.

To work according to your contracted duties, to master the tasks you are expected to do and be content enough to do them is seen as a form of slacking off in the modern workplace.

Developing power is about winning power, with the goal not merely being heard, of making the case, but of winning power to transform the world, not to merely tinker round its edges.

New technologies and labour-saving processes can be good things: the problem is who owns the technology required for these processes and in whose interest that technology is developed and run.

How we work is shaped not by technology alone, but by existing relations of power.

Given that, under capitalism, work becomes the only avenue for self-development, respect and fulfilment, this is a genuine fear of a loss of self.

All of our jobs have significant effects on our health, on our relationships with ourselves and our relationships with others.

A few years ago, workers in a London Tube station decided, of their own accord, to write quotes on the service updates whiteboard in their ticket hall. The quotes were a mixture of the sentimental, the humorous, the earnest, the capital I-inspirational, and occasionally, the genuinely moving. People took pictures of the board and shared them on soc