I am the former Associate Director of the Ohio State Center for Ethics and Human Values, a position I held for three years. As of today, I hold the position of Center Associate, a staff position with a lower salary. Even though I made the change voluntarily, at my own request, HR considers this change of position to be a “demotion”.
It is not. The appropriate term for what I have done is downshifting.
Downshifters voluntarily forgo opportunities to maximize their earning potential in order to realize non-monetary benefits, such as having less job-related stress, enjoying more leisure time, engaging in work that it personally more rewarding but less lucrative, or so on. I heartily recommend it!
Here is a sort of advice column I wrote back in 2018 on the topic:
You’re Going to Die (Plus Some Less Conventional Advice)
Even though my personal goals and areas of focus have changed in some major ways since 2018, I find that I very much still agree with the bulk and substance of it.
I am no stranger to downshifting. This is the fourth or so time I’ve engaged in downshifting-type behavior.
The main impetus this time around was, to put it somewhat vaguely, to free myself from a certain job responsibility that I found particularly mentally and emotionally draining. In doing so, I greatly increase the time, energy, stamina, and enthusiasm that I can devote to passion projects, especially my current interest in ecocentric ethics and related topics (I would say “rewilding” but what a semantic clusterf–k — that’s a technical term for a cluster concept confounded to the point of uselessness — I’m discovering that term to be). As a reminder: as always, my job ≠ my passion, just a reasonably pleasant way to earn an income and stay engaged with some colleagues whom I think are fine human beings. And so do I prefer it.
Here are some previous examples of downshifting-type behavior:
1. Switching from a PhD program in Statistics to one in Philosophy (leaving Statistics with a terminal Masters). I had good standing in the Statistics program, but I had come to realize that I had considerably more passion for the discipline and methodology of philosophy — or, perhaps better put, simply an irresistible urge to complete a doctorate in the discipline. Some people might consider a “downshift” because the expected future earnings of philosophers is much lower than that of statisticians. For me, the downshifting element simply had to do with the fact that Philosophy graduate students were paid less than Statistics graduate students. I never thought in terms of future careers, not even as a graduate student; I was there for the intrinsic pleasure of exercising my cognitive faculties.
2. Turning down a reasonably well-paying job, which I’d previously thought I wanted, and instead choosing to sell my labor only part-time so that I could concentrate on volunteer work. This happened in mid-2016, when I was in the process of becoming “famous” in the basic income world as the lead writer for Basic Income News, to which I was contributing on nearly a daily basis as a volunteer. I worked considerably more hours for the basic income movement in those days than I did to earn my own “basic income”.
3. Withdrawing from the basic income world, and the potential for further paid opportunities therein, when I’d eventually had enough (after some eventual unexpected financial success). I won’t elaborate reasons I won’t elaborate here; it was partly profound disillusionment with the movement, but partly sheer boredom with the narrow focus and a desire to learn something new, to challenge myself in a new domain. At this time, I took an all-out mini retirement to provide myself with space to find out what new passions, interests, and opportunities would find me, and it was in this context that I wrote the above-linked “You’re Going to Die” article.
As an undergraduate, I changed my major fairly frequently, even though I threw myself entirely to whatever I’d chosen for a given term. No one directly criticized me for my fickleness, but I was aware of the appearance. I remember writing on one of my folders (as undergraduates are prone to do): “Some may say I drift in my goals, but my goal is to be a drifter.” I stand by that sentiment still today. Life is too short and the universe too vast to live and die as some kind of career specialist.
Kate M., Center Associate, 1 July 2022