The problem with following clever people on social media is that they say insightful stuff that shines a light on something you do… and no matter how hard you try, you cannot unread​ it.

For me, it was something organisational psychologist Adam Grant said a few years ago: “If you love your job, people are more willing to ask you to do extra work unpaid—even if it's demeaning and not part of your role—and to sacrifice sleep and family time. Managers: it's time to stop taking advantage of enthusiasm.” 

As someone who has been called enthusiastic more than once, I felt like he was talking directly to me. 

Like many (many) people, I am in an under-resourced role. I regularly take work home and have started having work lunches on my days off because they feel like an indulgence (they are not; relationship-building is part of my role). I have thought about only working during the hours I am paid. And some weeks I am able to do this. But I’m in a team, so when I don’t finish my work, that exacerbates the pressure on my colleagues, big time. And I don’t want to do that to them. I pride myself on being a good creative collaborator who is responsive and reliable. I care… and so I do more than I am paid for. I care… so I routinely let work eat into my downtime. I care… and so I pay something Professor Aaron Kay from Duke University calls passion tax. 

In research he conducted a few years back with his team at the university’s School of Business, analysing eight studies involving more than 2400 people, they found the more passionate you are about your job, the greater the chance you’ll be exploited. And it’s not because we all have horrible bosses—I certainly don’t. In fact, from what I can see, she’s paying the passion tax too. 

Part of the problem is that when we see someone who appears to be passionate, research reveals there is the belief that the work is its own reward. Managers also figure the passionate and caring employee is happy to do the extra hours/tasks—they probably would have volunteered to do it anyway (you know, because they care). Turns out, when we are confronted by scenes of injustice, explained Kay, rather than fix it, our minds would rather compensate instead. Good old human nature strikes again.

Right now, this is more relevant than ever. For those of us who care about our work and our colleagues, and have pushed through the last year absorbing more duties and roles, we are in a culture of digging deep. And so it feels tone-deaf to ask for this to be reflected in a new job title and salary. And so we keep paying that passion tax. 

One of the ways workplace researchers believe the last year will impact our future working lives is in the area of trust. According to Adam Grant, the level of trust we feel towards our colleagues is likely to become more extreme—in both directions. For people who saw co-workers treated poorly, the trust is gone. For me, I do not blame or resent my manager for my work situation. Partly because she is an excellent manager: she’s decisive, fair, and has a great creative vision. She does not micro-manage. She listens to my ideas and trusts my judgement. And I genuinely believe she would get me more money if she could.  

So where does that leave me with the passion tax? Ultimately, I need to decide what I stand to gain from being undervalued in a job I enjoy. And then try to figure out how long that will last before, inevitably, I become resentful of the passion tax. Because at some point, as anyone who has been in a relationship with more take than give knows, the enthusiasm sours. And while many of us are motivated by more than just money… at the end of the day we are working to build our lives. So the bottom-line will eventually become more important than those good-feels. Eventually. In the meantime, if anyone figures out how to care less so I can be paid more, let me know.