These days most of us work in offices, and we aren’t happy about it. Hunched over our computers, we spend almost the entire day sitting down – apart from the infamous bout of exercise in the gym that, in reality, only about three per cent of us do.

Most of our work consists of emails, internal meetings and talking to customers. At the end of each day there is very little for us to look on with pride, not even a stack of letters in our out-tray. We have not produced anything.

But our workplaces are cleaner, safer and more comfortable than ever. We get enough to eat and drink at the right times, we have access to distractions via the internet, and our tasks are likely to be less repetitive and involve a greater range of intellectual and social stimulation.

And it is important not to glamorise our industrial past: you only need to watch ABC’s coverage of working conditions in Foxconn plants (which produce iPads) to realise how dispiriting, restrictive and stressful manual work can be.

However, no doubt about it, there is something missing from office life. And every day now we hear a pronouncement on how there is too much of it; how instead of creating more pen-pushers, we should be revitalising our manufacturing industries.

Sometimes the argument is based on diversifying away from heavily cyclical financial work; sometimes on tertiary sector upskilling in poorer countries; sometimes on the need for employment among young people.

All of these motivations are valid and important. But we shouldn’t forget people’s experience of work. Surely before we can say that we want more ‘Made in Britain’, it is crucial to know whether more manufacturing jobs means better jobs.

Our economy is founded on the idea that work lends purpose, direction and connectivity to our lives. Our work gives us an identity and a stake in society. It adds a sphere of social participation beyond our families and neighbourhoods, it endows us with dignity by attaching value to our particular skills, and it provides a domain within which our principles and actions can be compared with others’.

Out of these qualities, it’s fair to say we’re probably more social in an office. As secretaries we catch up on colleagues’ personal lives over our partitions. As call centre workers we are in constant communication with customers from a wide range of backgrounds. As consultants we sit in virtual and physical meetings, vying for position and acceptance of our ideas. And for all of us, the internet has given the chance to keep in touch with a larger number of people, regardless of their location and their relevance to whatever one is doing at the time.

It’s often said that the explosion in this communication has actually reduced our ability to interconnect. Indeed I recently spent time working in a small media company where everyone wore headphones to listen to the news. When people came in, no one would raise their heads from their screens. Instead, any greeting would be sent by Google chat.

However, it would be foolish to suggest that the situation is better in manufacturing. There may be a requirement for physical cooperation, leadership and on-the-spot judgement: human qualities that are rarely evidenced in our daily email stream. But the headphones worn on a noisy assembly line preclude oral communication in much the same way that my company’s did, and time-pressured manual workers usually have less time for idle (yet sustaining) chit-chat than your average office employee.

The benefits of manufacturing are easier to see in the context of purpose. Even when screwing on an exhaust pipe, you know where your efforts will end up. You might have questions about the ethics of your labour but you can at least define it. On the other hand, playing the middle man in a series of planning applications is about as comprehensible as playing blindfold football.

And where manufacturing really wins is in the skills it fosters and values. In the service sector, there is very little dignity accrued from being able to handle an angry customer. While you might be prized at Bombardier for your welding, painting or repair work, at Dixons you’re hired to sell and take complaints: skills as disposable and transient as a two year-old smartphone.

So yes, I am all for Made in Britain. Government should do its best to ensure that it awards contracts at home, that our regulation is purposeful and not stifling, and that UK-made products are labelled as such – including with the ‘standard mark’ advocated by Ed Miliband in his speech at the Engineering Employers’ Federation.

But we must always have an eye for what our policies mean for those who practise them – a more robust economy and fulfilling work will not simply come together by happy coincidence, they must be nurtured together to thrive.

Our new industrial policy must not only be the world’s most balanced, the world’s most green, the world’s most technologically cutting edge. It must also be focused on providing the world’s best working conditions.

Miliband talked about ‘recognising and celebrating our strength in manufacturing’, but this cannot only be for ‘British business to succeed’. Made in Britain should make better British lives.

—————————————————————————————

Patrick Macfarlane writes the Blue Labour column on Progress and edits BlueLabour.org

—————————————————————————————

Photo: Dean Ayres