I’ve had the pleasure of co-presenting with Rajiv on several occasions, and the conversations always take a turn toward the unexpected. I elaborate on my latest passion, job crafting, and how it may surpass other popular solutions for health-related job stress, burnout, and disengagement.
Rajiv brings his unique perspective as a community-minded entrepreneur, physician, and vendor. I’m always enriched by our conversations, and I think you will be, too.
The foundation of employee wellbeing isn’t employee behavior — it’s workplace exposure. Exposure to things like…
the physical environment,
the psychosocial environment,
the policies of the organization,
the work itself.
Designing jobs to optimize these exposures is a direct path to creating healthier work.
The employer that values employee wellbeing will design jobs that offer
well defined roles,
plenty of personal and professional support.
As the business world crams countless sections into its wellbeing pie charts, it persistently omits the core: For a sustainable workforce, healthy work comes first.
What Is Job Crafting?
In job crafting, employees tweak any combination of…
their workplace interactions,
the way they view their jobs.
One of the most commonly cited examples comes from Amy Wrzesniewski and Jane Dutton, who first coined the phrase job crafting in 2001. In their study of hospital housekeepers, some workers distinguished themselves by envisioning their role as part of the care team, taking the initiative to chip in where they could to make the environment more patient-friendly — adjusting a picture on the wall of a patient’s room, delivering a glass of water, or spending more time interacting with patients and visitors.
The researchers wrote,
When hospital cleaners integrate themselves into patient care functions, they are able to see their work as being about healing people and to see themselves as a key part of this process, thus enhancing work meaning and creating a more positive work identity.
A variety of workers studied, from machine operators to engineers to sales professionals, have been found to experience greater job satisfaction, better performance, less burnout, and enhanced wellbeing by bringing more meaning to their jobs via self-initiated or intervention-based job crafting.
I’ve come to see job crafting as the workforce sustainability intervention many of us have sought: An evidence-based, employee-centric methodology that can enhance employee wellbeing in a manner aligned with employers’ priorities.
Job crafting is not the solution, but it may be the keystone for employers that have their house in order. It’s one answer to the question, “Okay, we value autonomy, employee engagement, a supportive environment, and the rest… But what do we do about it?”
Job crafting is a tool — not a substitute — for good management.
If you may be interested in hosting a job-crafting beta workshop later in the coming year, touch base via the Jozito.com contact form.
Our major wellness conferences will connect their attendees with nonprofit (or under-resourced) employers in their host cities to model wellbeing interventions for employees who otherwise might not have access.
Last year, online media had a field day when a survey showed that one third of respondents who owned a “wearable” activity tracker stopped using their device within six months. The firm that conducted the survey referred to this as “the dirty secret of wearables.” But it’s premature to judge this disengagement rate, and there’s no secret to keep. Sixty-six percent adherence for wearables after six months may, in fact, be something to celebrate.
Is It Time to Disengage from Disengagement Rates?
We haven’t identified universally accepted goals for activity trackers (by “trackers,” we’re talking here about devices like Fitbits, Jawbone Ups, and the like). Is the purpose to increase activity? To lose weight? To (perish the thought) have fun? Without goals, there’s little we can say about effectiveness or the significance of disengagement rates.
The assumption behind the negative publicity for disengagement rates implies that users should wear their trackers indefinitely. But…Says who? Many consumers wearing a tracker for the first time will see, within a few days, that they aren’t as active as they thought. This may be a first step to modifying behavior, even if they ultimately rely on non-tracker strategies to make changes, and even if those strategies take place at a later date.
Business Insider writer Erin Brodwin recently published an article called, I Tried Fitbit for a Month, and Taking It Off Was the Best Decision I’ve Made. Judging from the title, we might think that Brodwin’s story is a testimonial to the transience of tracker engagement (or that she needs to make better decisions in her life). And it may be. But this observation she makes near the end of the piece may exemplify unexamined potential of wearables:
I still do some of the healthier things I learned to do with my Fitbit, like taking the stairs at work and going for a walk when I take a phone call.
In Brodwin’s case, sustainability of her Fitbit use would have been the wrong metric if her goal was to increase physical activity.
Do One Third of Users Disengage with Wearables after Six Months? Or Do Two Thirds Continue?
What benchmark are we using to judge sustainability of engagement with wearables? Do we compare it to the 20% of patients that drop out of psychotherapy early? Or to the attrition rate for Crossfit, physical therapy, yoga, walking groups, Weight Watchers, or gym attendance? What about mindfulness, our panacea du jour? What percentage of mindfulness practitioners sustain their efforts for more than six months?
I don’t have credible citations for disengagement rates on any of these potential benchmarks, because hardly anyone’s even asking the question. But, by most accounts, a 66% adherence rate after six months compares favorably to…well, just about anything that requires effort.
Previous research on pedometers and early-day accelerometer devices has shown they can be useful tools for increasing physical activity…when they’re integrated with a sound behavioral program. And this was the optimistic conclusion of the “dirty secret” survey — that use of wearables can be sustainable when integrated with behavioral approaches.
Through my job, I’ve overseen the distribution of thousands of pedometers and hundreds of modern tracking devices to people engaged in top-tier behavioral programs lasting several weeks, often offered periodically throughout the year. The pedometer users, I did indeed find, are usually eager to abandon their device in the junk drawer after a program ended. But those who stop wearing their pedometer after eight weeks tend to be perfectly happy to resume wearing it when the next program rolls around. And I’ve seen unpublished data showing that the effects of this intermittent participation on activity levels is sustainable for more than a year. Using it or not using it for the first six months of ownership doesn’t seem essential.
Our wearable technology is ahead of our research. Do we know what consumers expect from trackers? Not everyone wearing a tracker wants to change. Some may be quantified-self devotees. Some enjoy a tracker as an expensive toy.
As for me: I need to have an activity tracking device because I’m in the business, and I’m extra motivated to continue so that I can contribute my data as a subject in the Heart Study (which, I hope, may ultimately resolve some of our questions about wearables). If my job was unrelated, I doubt I’d pony up the bucks for a glorified pedometer.
Calorie-counting apps have come under similar criticism, but there’s no arguing that expectations of these apps are more clearly defined. Consumers come to these apps to lose weight, though research shows that attrition is high and that the apps, perhaps like wearables, are useful as a measurement tool and not a standalone strategy.
I use MyFitnessPal to track calories for 3 to 4 weeks each year. In the first three weeks I used it, I suffered the revelation that I consumed more daily calories in snacks than I did in meals. While I caution that n=1 — my experience may be irrelevant to anyone else’s — approximately three weeks was all it took to trigger a lasting change in my eating patterns. I consider that a win and, as of this moment, it’s no secret.
[This post was originally published on Medium.com on May 18, 2015]
Pay No Attention to the Magnate Behind the Curtain?
In 2000, a bunch of diet “gurus” were assembled to debate the pros and cons of different weight loss diets. Robert Atkins, Dean Ornish, John McDougall, the Sugar Busters guy, Barry Sears, and Keith-Thomas Ayoob from American Dietetics Association were in attendance.
At the time, the Atkins diet was booming in popularity. The low-fat guys demanded from Atkins data supporting his advocacy of high-fat, high-protein, low-carb diets. Atkins said he hadn’t been able to secure research funding.
Ayoob chided, “Excuse me, 10 million books in print and you can’t fund the study?”
Eventually, Atkins funded his own studies, which demonstrated that his’ conclusions about carbs and fats were not something to be ridiculed (they influences much of today’s emerging thinking about weight loss). Many of these studies were published in distinguished journals, such as the New England Journal of Medicine. Regardless, they were viewed warily because they were funded by Atkins.
In other words, skeptics belittled Atkins for not funding studies of his diet. Then, when he did fund them, they dismissed the results as biased…because he funded them.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Almost all employee wellness research is commercially funded, and I do believe bias and distortion are prevalent. On the other hand, I respect companies that endeavor to publish their results.
My job, as a consumer of science information is:
to be aware of the potential for bias;
to try to understand how bias may or may not influence outcomes;
to seek less biased sources;
…and then to use my own critical thinking skills to reach or reject a conclusion based on all the information I have at hand.
[This post was adapted from a reply I wrote in response to Ted Kyle’s blog post Head Spinning Bias About Funding Bias. Ted blogs prolifically about obesity on his ConscienHealth – website, and is uncommonly faithful to scientific evidence. He’s a voice that needs to be heard.]
I’ve compared, in a separate post, the terms health, wellness, and wellbeing.
But even “wellbeing” doesn’t go far enough. The term, as it’s typically used in employer circles, overlooks the interaction between an employee’s wellbeing and their work — the job conditions, the people they work with, the support they receive… indeed, all the way to the very way work is done. The consequences of a sustainable workforce are the very ones employers seek: work engagement, productivity, consistent attendance, and retention.
One of the best descriptions of workforce sustainability is offered by researchers Ellen Kossek, Monique Valcour, and Pamela Lirio in their chapter, The Sustainable Workforce: Organizational Strategies for Promoting Work–Life Balance and Wellbeing, published in the book Work and Wellbeing: A Complete Reference Guide:
“A sustainable workforce is one where the work environment is caring and supports employee wellbeing. Employees are not seen as primarily resources that can be deployed (and depleted) to serve employers’ economic ends. Their skills, talent, and energies are not overused or overly depleted. They are not faced with excessive workload nor with a relentless pace of work for weeks or years on end. During times of crisis (e.g., natural disasters, sickness), employees are given time to recover or seek the extra resources they need to be able to perform in the future. Burnout is avoided and workers are given time for renewal.
“When human resources are used in a sustainable way, employees are not only able to perform in-role or requisite job demands, but also to flourish, be creative, and innovate. Sustainable human resource management practices develop positive social relationships at work, which enhances business performance, including greater cohesion among organizational members, commitment to common purpose, hope for success, resilience, knowledge sharing, and collaborative capacity.”
There’s no secret sauce to achieving a sustainable workforce. But it’s important to understand the essential elements of workforce sustainability when implementing a wellness program, so that program offerings are crafted through a sustainability lens.
I recently read an article about business’s revolutionary transition from employee wellness to wellbeing. “Historically speaking,” the author wrote, “wellness has been thought of as strictly pertaining to physical health, usually measured by biometrics.”
But, accurately speaking, this is not so.
Of course, there’s no single arbiter who can proclaim what exactly health, wellness, or wellbeing mean, but it’s worth understanding some of the ways these words have been interpreted in order to fully appreciate the implications, or lack thereof, of the “transition” from wellness to wellbeing
“Health” was defined by the World Health Organization (WHO) in 1946 as
a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.
WHO’s definition, incorporated into its constitution, remains unchanged to this day. But in 1986 the organization held an International Conference on Health Promotion in Ottawa, which resulted in the famous Ottawa Charter for Health Promotion that elaborated on the definition, stating,
An individual or group must be able to identify and realize aspirations, to satisfy needs, and to change or cope with the environment. Health is, therefore, seen as a resource for everyday life, not the objective of living. Health is a positive concept emphasizing social and personal resources, as well as physical capacities.
The Charter went on to list the conditions for health: peace, shelter, education, food, income, a stable eco-system, sustainable resources, and social justice. A far cry from biometrics.
In the late 1950s, the chief of the US Office of Vital Statistics — Halbert Dunn, MD — described a dynamic state-of-being he called “high-level wellness.” This is generally considered the founding of wellness, and Dr. Dunn’s sermon-like lectures reveal his concept to be anything but a simple embodiment of physical health. Dr. Dunn said…
The state of being well is…a fascinating and ever-changing panorama of life itself, inviting exploration of its every dimension.
I believe Dr. Dunn was amplifying — not refuting — WHO’s original definition, and the Ottawa Charter later adopted much of his take on wellness as a never-ending interaction with the environment.
But Dr. Dunn’s framework may have proven too cosmic for the mainstream. And many thought leaders have since distilled wellness into the sum of its various dimensions.
The National Wellness Institute adopted a model that incorporates six dimensions of wellness — occupational, physical, emotional, spiritual, intellectual, and social. Others have divvied wellness up into five, six, seven, or eight dimensions, sometimes tossing in a “relationship” dimension, sometimes “environmental,” “financial,” or “community.” A quick image search reveals a galaxy of multidimensional wellness models in the shape of pies, hexagons, prisms, Venn diagrams, concentric circles, and geodesic domes.
I don’t know exactly how “wellbeing,” in the last few years, worked its way into the hearts of employers and the wellness industry. But one catalyst probably was the bestselling book, The Five Elements of Wellbeing, by Tom Rath and Jim Harter. Both authors are workplace consultants with Gallup (a partner of wellness vendor Healthways) and entrepreneurial marketers with a track record of successfully persuading employers to their way of thinking.
Rath and Harter argue, based on Gallup findings, that wellbeing is more profound than health and wellness, incorporating career, social, financial, physical, and community wellbeing. Sound familiar?
In practice, employers are rallying around mindfulness programs and financial planning, and repackaging stress management as resilience, and using these incremental expansions of the status quo as markers to distinguish wellbeing from wellness. Ultimately, the transition amounts to little more than a name change.
I’m more than happy to dispose of the word “wellness.” I never cared for it — not because of its definition, but because it has failed to resonate with employees or the public at large. And I see no harm in calling it wellbeing instead of wellness. Certainly, while the employee wellness industry has been celebrating this “transition,” I doubt many employees have noticed a difference.
Besides, I’m open to the evolution of language, as long as it isn’t contrived to cover up a deception (like calling participation “engagement,” which I’m sure no self-respecting wellness professional would ever do).
Here’s my bottom line based on this incomplete and superficial exploration of the terms health, wellness, and wellbeing: Some people are inclined to see connections, whereas others are more drawn to compartmentalize. Maybe surgeons and benefits directors are more likely to see what’s tangible and quantifiable, while artists and farmers see the whole and the dynamics it contains. Both points of view probably deliver value.
Either way, I’m guessing that anyone who views health and wellness as only physical phenomena is likely to see wellbeing the same way. Others who view these concepts holistically are likely to do so regardless of the labels we attach to them.
Health, wellness, wellbeing: In the end, what we call it won’t matter as much as how we think of it…and how we act on it.