Oxford undergraduates are 'up' for 24 weeks of the year. That is to say, they attend their respective colleges for three eight-week terms every twelve months of the time they are here, writes George Frew.
You will notice we do not claim that they 'work' during all this time. They have balls to attend, punting to do, soirees to grace. Nevertheless, the students spend less than half the year studying in Oxford.
George W Bush would appear to have adopted the Oxford undergraduate method of running the United States of America. Since he was sworn in by the Supreme Court Chief Justice as the 43rd President of his nation on a cold and unforgiving day last January, 'Dubya' has been The Most Powerful Man In The World for 201 days but has actually only turned up for work on 96 of them.
The rest of the time, he's been spotted indulging in a spot of community carpentry, pictured driving golf buggies and reported to have been enjoying himself on his impressive Texas ranch with its swimming pool the size of Wallingford.
"It (being away from the job) keeps my mind whole and my spirits up," says Dubya, not necessarily implying that clocking on at the Oval Office fragments his thoughts and reduces him to a condition of deep, unremitting gloom.
But his 'absenteeism' has been noticed, unlike that of former President Calvin Coolidge.
On being told that he was dead, that queen of acid wit Dorothy Parker replied, "How do they know?"
Americans, who average a whole two weeks holiday a year, might regard their current President as a bit of a slacker, but at least he manages to avoid being accused of 'Presenteeism" - that strange and unhealthy urge felt by salarymen and women everywhere to stay at work when everyone else has cleared off home and to stay in touch with the office even when they are supposed to be lying prone on a beach somewhere, "unwinding."
Never mind, "Have you packed the sun block and the tourist guide, dear?" For some unfortunate wretches, it's a case of, "Don't forget the mobile and the laptop."
Now, anyone born into a stern culture where the work ethic dictated that you would prefer to crawl or even be stretchered into your place of employment, rather than being thought a skiver will understand the allure of 'Presenteeism'.
The thought that the company might tick along nicely without them is abhorrent - if not actually unthinkable.
They've got to physically be there, at work - and if they can't, they've got to be in constant electronic touch with the place. Nothing less will do. One in 10 managers in this country fail to take their entire holiday entitlement. Of those who do, many admit to reading the novels of John Grisham, John Le Carre and Tom Clancy on holiday - and if that in itself doesn't sound like hard work, we don't know what else you'd call it. Going on holiday used to be just the job. Now the job comes along, too.
More and more of us are living to work instead of working to live. We work on weekends, when the working week is supposed to have ended. We don't go to church - instead, we work every hour God sends. And will any of it matter in 100 years, or 100 days, come to that?
Will the boss notice our dedication and if he does, will he reward our hard graft and endless hours? Probably not. To call someone a "Workaholic" is supposedly to pay them a compliment. Why? Have they no friends to see, no children to cherish, no lover to adore, no family to embrace, no pets to care for or hobbies to indulge? And the experts say all this grafting does the grafter no good whatsoever in the long term. Like the die-hard jogger who drops down and dies, hard, this is a bitter return for all that effort, all that 'Presenteeism'.
You can't cuddle a computer terminal or French-kiss a spread sheet and we will all be ashes in the wind or wearing the wooden overcoat one day - we come to work to earn a living, not to buy our way into an early grave.
'Presenteeism' is alleged to have originated in -where else? - the United States. What else would you expect from a people - their President notwithstanding - who think only loafers work fewer than 50 weeks a year, Thanksgiving, Labor (sic) Day, Christmas, New Year's and the Fourth of July aside?
If the crack of dawn was audible, these people would never hear it - they'd be too busy listening to the boss's first dictate of the day. Ask them to smell the coffee or to stop and sniff the flowers and they'll reply, "Only if I can do it at my desk..."
So far, 'Presenteeism' seems to be a disease of middle-management in this country, strictly a white-collar ailment. But might it not spread among the nakedly ambitious, those yonder with that lean and hungry look, desperate to exchange bored meetings for Board Meetings?
George Cox, Director General of the Institute of Directors doesn't think much of managers who never leave off. He calls them "prats" and suggests that they "Get a life."
Obsessives, he believes, do not make good executives. The other George, aka Dubya, clearly agrees and preaches what he practices.
Perhaps the working year should be more like an Oxford undergraduate's year - short, without being nasty or brutish.
To those of us steeped in the Calvinistic work ethic, it is hard to take time off without feeling guilty.
But we're working on it...
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