Are We Overlooking Our Evolutionary Needs at Work?

That’s bad news. Really bad news. Because more than eight hours a day of it presents a similar risk of dying to smoking and an even greater one than obesity.

And that’s only one of the myriad ways we’re flagrantly disregarding our evolutionary needs in the workplace.

We spoke to Dan White, Leadership Development Specialist at EZRA, to find out what’s going on, and exactly what we can do about it.

Perfectly adapted for something else

“Let’s be clear, none of the work environment is built with the human body or soul in mind,” Dan points out.

Indeed, it’s difficult to conceive of something less effective for nurturing the human spirit than the desk and chair default we’ve landed on.

“A prison perhaps?” he laughs.

Sitting wedged in a chair, staring at screens for hours on end is not what most people find massively fulfilling. No matter how ergonomically designed the back of it might be.

Out of touch with ourselves

“Modern workplaces can feel like battery farms for humans…,” says Dan.

And because we’ve been focused on how far we've come as a species, “We have lost touch with the ingredients of what makes a flourishing human being…,” he believes.

Reasons for hope

But all is not lost. Dan points to work from his namesake Dan Pink around the three pillars of motivation.

Mastery, autonomy, and purpose.

“When we picture the hunter-gatherer in pre-modern times what we realise is that they were, (and even in places still are) rich in all three,” he says.

So, what can we learn from our ancestors?

Move more

“Our bodies are designed to move,” says Dan. And not just to the refrigerator for the occasional snack either. Without regular movement—we can suffer.

That’s why it’s so important for organizations to do things like “Encourage people to commute on foot or by bicycle,” he believes.

Standing desks, walking pads, regular leg stretches—all these things help inject more movement. And if you really must have those catch ups, why not walk and talk in the local park and take a minute to marvel at that weird-looking insect while you’re at it.

Be more flexible

We’re obsessed with time. We spend it. Save it. Give it. Waste it.

But we don’t really understand it. We talk about putting in the hours, yet productivity plummets once you go past a 50-hour week. And hunter gathers? Well, they worked no more than 20-hours. Why would they? And they had a whole lot more autonomy and variety while they were at it too.

It's why Dan believes we’d benefit from “No more than 6 hours of ‘work’ per day.” And “If 9am-5pm isn’t terribly useful or inspiring, explore what a 6-9am and 4-7pm routine feels like.” It’s also why Dan thinks companies should “Expect people to have side-hustles.”

Nurture community and belonging

We have our complex social skills to thank for our success as a species. Without them, we’d be nothing more than a distant memory in a Smilodon’s intestinal tract.

Because as Dan points out, “The vast majority of us cannot flourish on our own.”

We need community. And we need to know that what we’re doing matters to that community. That’s why it’s so important to “Connect people every day with the impact of what they are doing,” Dan thinks. And that could be as simple as just telling them.

What’s stopping us?

There are, however, two planetary-sized buts looming large over all this.

As Dan points out, “Our competitive corporations are designed to extract as much effort from us as possible…”

And, if we’re really honest with ourselves, “Many of us are addicted to our lifestyles of consumerism and material wealth.”

Evolving the workplace

“Our basic nature is ancient and unlikely to change much in the next ten thousand years,” Dan reminds us. “Probably not even in the next hundred thousand.”

So why not design work with that in mind? Let’s build workplaces that tap into what makes us tick—purpose, meaning, connection. When you prioritize more than just a paycheck, everyone wins.

And who knows—maybe 200 years from now, we’ll have figured out how to raise free-range humans.