Hello, I'm your friend, a financial journalist and economist. Today, we're not going to talk about a bunch of cold KPI numbers or complex macroeconomic models, but rather a story about people.
This article from the WeChat public account "Bo Kai Yu Bai Bai Mian" is like a scalpel that precisely cuts into the most painful wound in today's workplace. It brings together two incidents: one about a young man in Beijing who, despite bleeding from his right hand after a car accident, insisted on attending a video meeting, and another about a 32-year-old programmer named Gao Guanghui who died suddenly on a Saturday morning and was still being "mentioned" (i.e., kept in the work chat) eight hours after his death.
These two events may seem separate, but they actually share the same root cause. They both point to the most absurd and cruel reality of the modern workplace: in the eyes of the capital and efficiency-driven machines, people are being transformed into "interfaces" that are always on standby and disposable once used up.
Next, I'll break down the logic behind this article for you in plain language, from five different perspectives, to show us what kind of system we're actually trapped in.
1. The Absurdity of Priorities: When Life Takes a Backseat to "Reads"
Let's start with the young man in Beijing. With blood flowing from his right hand and sitting on the ground, his first reaction wasn't to stop the bleeding or call for help; instead, he took out his phone to continue the meeting. The traffic police found him responsible for the accident, which is not just a matter of traffic laws but also a misalignment of values.
In Gao Guanghui's case, this misalignment reached its extreme. While he was in the ICU being treated, or even after his death, messages in the work group kept popping up saying, "Gao, please help process these orders." The system didn't realize he was dead; it only recognized his account.
The core logic here is that work has been given a higher priority than life.
Why does this happen? Because in the culture of many companies, "response speed" is equated with "professional attitude." If you can't reply immediately or be online at all times, you're considered "unprofessional." This culture has bred a pathological anxiety among workers—"fear of being offline."
Even when the body is sending red alerts (like Gao Guanghui saying "bring my computer" before passing out), the brain is still trained to be in "work mode." It's not that the employees are stupid; it's the environment that forces them to act this way. In this environment, **"living" is for the sake of "working," not "working" for the sake of "living." When a person has to prioritize work even in a life-and-death situation, it shows that this evaluation system has completely distorted human instincts.
2. The Trap of the "Flexible Workforce": The Most Ingenious Digital Prison
The article mentions an oxymoronic concept: "humanized management." No strict attendance requirements, no traditional KPIs, and executives don't have separate offices. Sounds nice, right?
But the author hits the nail on the head: this is the most sophisticated form of labor control in the digital age.
Traditional exploitation is blatant, like being forced to work 12 hours a day. Modern exploitation, however, is more subtle, using something called **"flexibility":
- Time flexibility: You can come in at 10 a.m., but you must be online by 10 p.m.
- Space flexibility: You can work from home, but you must be available at all times.
- State flexibility: You can take a vacation, but your phone can't be on silent mode.
This "flexibility" is unilateral:
- You work extra hours flexibly, but the company pays you flexibly (low base salary, with raises based on performance and rank; once you stop, your income drops).
- You rest flexibly, but the company holds you accountable (why didn't you bring your computer to the beach?).
This creates a "digital prison." Your phone becomes an electronic shackle, and apps like WeChat and DingTalk become whips that can be pulled out at any moment. You think you've gained freedom (no need for clock-ins), but in reality, you've lost your boundaries (you're always working). The cleverness of this management style is that it makes you feel like you're "working hard for yourself," leading you to voluntarily give up your right to rest and even sacrifice your health. It wraps exploitation in the guise of "struggle" and control in the guise of "trust."
3. The System's Indifference: The Instant Erasure from "Human Being" to "Account"
After Gao Guanghui's death, the company's reaction was heart-wrenching: they immediately deleted his corporate WeChat account, cleared his desk, and threw away his personal belongings.
In economics and management, we talk about "human capital." But at that moment, the company demonstrated an extreme form of materialization:
- While you're employed: you're "Gao Gong," a tool that can write code and fix bugs.
- When you leave or die: you become a "data residue" and "physical waste" that needs to be cleared.
Photos of his family, unfinished books, and a water cup he used for years are all seen as obstacles that need to be removed under the logic of efficiency. The company rushed to complete the "deactivation" process, not just to follow administrative procedures but also to cut off emotional connections.
Why? Because if people's morale declines, the company will fail. If there are strong emotional bonds among employees or between employees and the company, someone's death would cause significant internal turmoil, public opinion crises, and a drop in morale. Quickly erasing all traces is to ensure the system continues to run smoothly, without letting a "human tragedy" disrupt the "machine's operation."
Even more frightening are the 390,000 yuan in "humanitarian compensation" and the 500,000 yuan in "negative review fines." This isn't compensation; it's a silence fee. It implies that your life is worth 390,000 yuan, but your silence is worth 500,000 yuan. "Don't speak; take the money and shut up, and let the system keep running."
4. The Cycle of Exploitation: Everyone Is Both a Victim and an Enabler
There's a poignant sentence in the article: "Those colleagues who kept mentioning him after his death... they might not be heartless; they were probably working overtime themselves, chased by deadlines."
This reveals a self-sustaining cycle of exploitation:
1. The company creates a sense of survival anxiety through systems like last-minute layoffs and low base salaries with high performance expectations.
2. Managers must pressure their subordinates to ensure tasks are completed to maintain their positions.
3. Ordinary employees work hard to avoid being laid off and may even sacrifice their health.
4. Colleagues mention each other and urge each other on, creating a competitive and stressful atmosphere.
Gao Guanghui was mentioned after his death not because his colleagues were heartless, but because the system doesn't allow anyone to fall behind. If someone falls behind (like not responding to messages), others feel insecure, fearing that the standards have dropped or that they might have to do his work.
So, everyone is a cog in this system. You oppress your subordinates, and your superiors oppress you. The pressure is passed down in a cycle, with no one being a bystander. Everyone is participating in the exploitation of others for their own survival. This is why change is so difficult—the entire system is operating on inertia.
5. Awakening and Resistance: Regaining the Human Essence
Finally, the article calls on us: Don't wait until you're lying in a hospital bed to realize that life shouldn't be like this.
As an economist, I want to say: True value is created by people, not by machines or algorithms.
Companies with the most advanced algorithms aren't necessarily the strongest; the most unique companies are those with the most talented and inspiring people. If a company treats its employees as replaceable parts, it will eventually lose its innovation and cohesion. Strict rules may boost short-term efficiency, but if people's morale declines, the company will surely fail.
For workers, we need a clear-headed resistance:
1. Recognize the traps: See through the control behind the "flexible workforce" and don't be deceived by its facade.
2. Set boundaries: Learn to say "no." Turn off notifications outside of working hours and protect your energy.
3. Cherish yourself: Remember, you are a person with dignity, creativity, and irreplaceable value. You're not just an ID in a system, not just an avatar, not just an account that can be deleted at will.
In Conclusion
Gao Guanghui has been gone for less than a year, and the car accident of the young man in Beijing reminds us of the same tragedy. It shows that as long as the logic of being "always online but instantly dispensable" doesn't change, the next Gao Guanghui will emerge—maybe you, maybe me.
The flowers downstairs may wither, and the trending topics may change, but new job-related news will keep coming. Those brightly lit office buildings will still be filled with people who think that bringing their computers will solve everything.
So, here's my final advice for every reader:
It's the weekend again—turn off your phone.
At least tonight, your life is far more important than any unread message.
Take good care of yourself, because you are not just a worker; you are a vibrant, precious, and irreplaceable person.