Availability as a Moral Test

Society loves the idea of “shift work” until it has to decide who deserves empathy for it. A soldier working night shifts is seen as noble, sacrificial, indispensable. An engineer, pilot, crew, security analyst, factory supervisor—is often seen as mismanaged, unavailable, difficult, or irresponsible. Same hours. Same biological cost. Vastly different judgment. That difference reveals an uncomfortable truth about how society assigns worth.

Doctors earn their respect, no question. The years of study, the life-and-death stakes, the emotional labor - none of that is up for debate.

But notice what happens socially when a doctor says:

• “I can’t attend this function, I’m on night duty.”

• “I sleep during the day.”

• “My availability is unpredictable.”

The response is automatic:

Of course. You’re saving lives.

Their exhaustion is honored.
Their absence is forgiven.
Their irritability is understood.

Families adjust. Friends accommodate. Society bends—because the narrative is clear: this sacrifice is meaningful.

Now replace the doctor with:

• A security analyst monitoring cyber threats overnight
• A logistics planner coordinating international supply chains

Suddenly the tone changes.

• “Why can’t you just switch to a normal job?”

• “You’re always asleep.”

• “You’re never available.”

• “Your work-life balance is bad.”

• “You should manage your time better.”

The work is invisible, so the sacrifice is dismissed.

Exhaustion becomes a personal failure, not a professional consequence. Unavailability becomes lack of commitment, not structural reality.

Workers outside of saving lives are constantly expected to apologize for their schedule, while others are allowed to own theirs. 

One says:

“I’m on call.”

The other has to say:

“Sorry, I know it’s inconvenient…”

Why should survival-critical systems—financial, technological, infrastructural—deserve less respect ?

There’s also a class bias hiding in plain sight.

Some profession is framed as service.
Other profession is framed as compromise.

One is admired.
The other is questioned.

We don’t ask why society requires 24/7 systems. We just punish the people who keep them running—unless their uniform fits our idea of prestige.

A anesthesiologist absence is explained to children as sacrifice. Another professional’s absence is often framed as choice.

When society doesn’t validate the work, families absorb the confusion. Guilt replaces pride. Justification replaces understanding.

And the worker learns a quiet lesson: Your exhaustion is real, but don’t expect recognition.

This post is not about reducing respect for surgeons or soldiers or a firefighter. It’s about expanding respect to reality.

It means understanding that functioning societies run on unseen sacrifice, not just celebrated ones.

A missed outing hurts the same. Until society learns to respect labor beyond titles, we will keep praising sacrifice with one hand—and shaming it with the other. Same shift. Different respect. And that difference says more about us than about the people working through the night. 

I wrote this post because I manage people who work in shifts as all of IT sector align with US and Europe time—and it’s heartbreaking to witness how silently they suffer.

They don’t complain much. They adjust. They miss milestones, suppress exhaustion, and normalize disruption to their bodies and lives. What hurts most isn’t the shift itself, but how easily their struggle is misunderstood. Watching this up close has made one thing painfully clear: the work may run 24/7, but empathy doesn’t. And until that changes, a lot of sacrifice will continue to go unseen.