
Have you been feeling unusually tired lately? Not just the typical exhaustion, but a bone-deep weariness that no amount of sleep seems to touch? If so, you're not alone. I've been hearing this consistently lately, even from people whose individual lives are going relatively well. Yet collectively, we're experiencing what feels like a pandemic of exhaustion.
This Mental Health Awareness Month, I've been reflecting on this phenomenon after reading this thought-provoking Harvard Business Review article by Fayard and Weeks about the broken psychological contract in today's workplace. Their insights helped me understand how this concept might explain why we're all so damn tired.
The Invisible Agreement That's Been Shattered
The psychological contract is the unwritten set of mutual expectations between employees and employers – the deeper understanding of what you'll give and what you'll get in return. For decades, this contract was relatively stable, but in recent years, it has fractured in profound ways.
What I found particularly insightful was the article's distinction between the "ethics of justice" (rules-based, one-size-fits-all) versus the "ethics of care" (relational, context-dependent, individualized). While organizations often operate from the justice framework, people increasingly expect to be treated through the lens of care.
But here's what struck me: This broken contract extends far beyond our workplaces. It's happening in nearly every domain of our lives.
The Ambient Stress of Broken Agreements
Think about the psychological contracts we once had with:
Our government: The expectation that it would function at a basic level and that elected officials would prioritize the common good.
Our communities: The understanding that we could disagree while acknowledging each other's humanity.
Our information systems: The belief that we could generally trust what we read and that expertise mattered.
Our environment: The assumption that seasons would be predictable and natural disasters exceptional.
Our technology: The expectation that it would serve us rather than exploit us.
Each of these broken contracts creates "ambient stress" – a background level of tension that persists even when immediate threats aren't present. It's like having a low-grade fever all the time; you're functioning, but never at full capacity.
Your Body Knows What Your Mind Ignores
The most insidious aspect of ambient stress is how our bodies process it. Your nervous system doesn't distinguish between immediate threats and abstract ones. The amygdala responds to climate change headlines the same way it responds to a car swerving toward you.
This triggers stress hormones designed for short-term emergencies, not chronic activation. Over time, this constant physiological arousal leads to:
Persistent fatigue as your body remains in energy-conservation mode
Cognitive fog as blood flow prioritizes survival systems over executive function
Sleep disturbances as hypervigilance makes it harder to fully rest
What makes this particularly exhausting is that much of it happens below conscious awareness. You might not realize how much energy you're expending just navigating a world where fundamental agreements are no longer reliable.
The Collective Grief of Lost Certainty
There's also a grief component to all of this. We're mourning the loss of a world we thought we understood – one where hard work reliably led to security and where institutions could generally be trusted. This grief often goes unacknowledged because it's about the loss of something intangible.
As psychologist Susan David notes, "When we feel emotional discomfort of any sort, the most common response is to try to make that feeling go away." But when the source of discomfort is as pervasive as a broken psychological contract with our entire world, we can't simply push it aside.
Creating a Culture of Care
What I found hopeful in the HBR article was the concept of creating a "culture of care" – an approach focused less on rigid policies and more on individualized attention to what matters to people in their specific contexts.
The authors highlight three principles:
Relational proximity: Creating genuine human moments that foster emotional connection, whether in-person or remote. This is about quality of interaction, not just physical presence.
Transparent principles: Developing clear guidelines while being honest about the rationale behind them, focusing on trust rather than control.
Attentive adaptability: Being curious about people's individual circumstances and willing to adjust approaches, seeing policies as values rather than rigid rules.
I wonder how these principles might help us rebuild psychological contracts beyond the workplace – in our communities, information systems, and even approaches to environmental challenges.
Finding Stability in Unstable Times
So what can we do when the contracts that once structured our expectations have fractured? Here are approaches that have helped me:
Name the ambient stress. Acknowledging that you're carrying an invisible burden can reduce its power. "I'm not just tired; I'm responding to genuine uncertainty."
Create micro-contracts you can control. Establish small, reliable patterns in your daily life – morning rituals, consistent check-ins with loved ones, integrity in your personal commitments.
Adjust expectations without surrendering hope. Recognize that the old "rules" may no longer apply without becoming cynical. We need to renegotiate contracts rather than abandon them.
Build community around shared reality. Connect with others who acknowledge both challenges and possibilities. Neither toxic positivity nor doomerism serves us.
Practice intentional rest. In a world that demands constant hypervigilance, creating spaces where you can fully relax becomes a radical act.
Honoring Your Experience
Perhaps most importantly, give yourself permission to be affected by these changes. The exhaustion many of us feel isn't a personal failing – it's a reasonable response to unprecedented disruption in the agreements that once structured our expectations.
As anthropologist Paul Farmer observed, a key resource many lack is "a margin for error." In many ways, the broken psychological contracts of our era have eliminated everyone's margin. We're all operating without the safety nets we once assumed would catch us.
No wonder we're tired.
But here's what gives me hope: Unlike formal contracts, psychological contracts can be renegotiated through collective action. We can build new understandings based on an ethics of care rather than just abstract justice. It starts with acknowledging what's been lost, naming the stress we carry, and coming together to envision what healthy contracts might look like for the future.
With care,
Jen
📚 What I am reading: "Hope Dies Last" by Alan Weisman. This book offers a deeply human exploration of resilience in the face of climate crisis. As he travels from flooding islands to reviving wetlands, meeting people who refuse to accept defeat despite overwhelming odds, Weisman examines what it means to maintain hope when our psychological contracts with the planet itself are breaking. His question – how do we feel, behave, and dream as we approach a future different from what we expected – perfectly captures the essence of ambient stress and collective uncertainty I'm exploring.
📚 What I am re-reading: "Am I Doing This Right?" by my friend Colleen Bordeaux. Even though it's a few years old, her insights about navigating life's uncertainty still feel incredibly on point. Plus, it's genuinely fun to read – something we need more of these days when tackling serious topics.
🎵 A new discovery: Just came across Music to Die For, an organization creating playlists and musical experiences for end-of-life care. They're transforming how we think about music, grief, and healing.
🎧 What I am listening to: Relationships 2.0: Can I Trust You? from Hidden Brain. This episode dives deep into how we build and rebuild trust – perfect companion listening for understanding psychological contracts. The research on how trust forms (and breaks) at both individual and societal levels is fascinating.
What a timely article. I appreciate you putting words to something I haven't been able to describe. It's not all the time, but as a retired person who doesn't have to work any longer, I am surprised at my mental fatigue that happens so often. Now I have a better understanding of the why. Thanks
Jen, I very much appreciate this--and it's timely for me. Thank you for sharing your wisdom and for highlighting the HBR article.