Yeoman’s Work

Automation, outsourcing, and identifying and utilizing shortcuts are legitimate and—at times—marvelous means of achieving cumbersome goals.

Some tasks can be unloaded onto software, triggered by if-then tripwires, and completed with the same or better quality as a human being could achieve, but in a fraction of the time.

Other work can be hired out to employees, freelancers, or gig workers, either because the labor in question is easy to learn and, thus, easily farmed out to willing hands, or because it’s not work you’re particularly good at, and someone else would bring more skill and/or experience to the task, in exchange for money that is, to you, well-spent.

Still other work can be truncated, minimized, or bypassed utilizing clever workarounds and alternative riggings; reducing the overall load, replacing a tedious route with a palatable one, or shrinking an overwhelming task down to something more pocketable.

Some drudgeries, though, are partially valuable because of their laboriousness.

The term “yeoman’s work” or “yeoman’s service” usually refers to the difficult, unsexy, often unsung and thankless sorts of exertion that would have been common for a yeoman—a term for a 19th century, landowning but not wealthy farmer, or in some cases the reliable servant of a higher-class, professional person.

In other words: someone who does the work, by hand, by themselves, without celebration, recognition, or out-of-proportion reward.

Yeoman’s work is maintenance work, it’s base-level work, and it’s work that is often difficult to achieve via any other means.

There are few shortcuts or hacks available, and such alternatives would typically result in inferior outcomes. Thus, getting one’s hands dirty and applying ample elbow-grease is the only real option if you want to get to the other side.

We don’t tend to celebrate these sorts of efforts, but there’s a type of satisfaction found in such tasks that’s difficult to quantify, above and beyond the tangible outcomes of the labor itself.

There’s nothing wrong with hacks, hires, and algorithmic solutions, when appropriate, but I would argue that periodic engagement in yeoman-style labor is good for one’s sense of scale, necessity, and personal capacity.

The lack of social recognition and accolades for such labor—though unfortunate, as this type of work keeps society ticking along, and those who contribute the most in this way are often under-appreciated—can help us refocus on the internal rewards that are often latent in diligence, toil, and individual industry.

If you found some value in this essay, consider supporting my work by buying me a coffee.





Recent Posts

  • Acceptance
  • Cognitive Overload
  • Another Year
  • Prodding and Reaffirming
  • Clearing the Way