I remember St Katharine’s dock from my early teens; I had memories from a day trip. My dad had heard about a new development in the city and wanted to check it out. All I remember of the day was that it was very long and that I was told, ‘this is where the yuppies live’, without having any idea what he was talking about.
The Meetup was held in a building called International House. My entrance was greeted with a smile from a group organiser who suggested that I should make myself a name badge. Apparently my name wasn’t on the guest list (because I had signed up to the group half an hour before arriving), but it was quickly added without any fuss.
‘Head down that corridor, go left, and feel free to get yourself something to drink’.
The corridor was busy; people were working. People sat in glass cubes, plugged into a laptops and telephones. Desks were filled with computers. Posters of new tech companies adorned the walls.
The ‘drinks’ appeared to be a couple of jugs of tap water and some plastic cups. Apparently, the small amount of beer that was available had been snaffled up. About fifty people were stood about, chatting. A chap called Dom introduced himself, and we got talking to another guy called Graham. Dom was the speaker for the night, and Graham described himself as a packaging entrepreneur. Tech, it seemed, wasn’t really Graham’s thing.
I chatted to two other people: Emma and Kim. I confessed to Emma that I had no real idea what the group was about, and she started to talk about income streams through product syndication and outsourcing. Emma, it turned out, was a company secretary.
Everyone was brought to attention and we were ushered into our seats for the talks. The first talk was essentially a sales pitch by a chap called Stephen. Stephen was a part of a development company that ran ‘programmes’ that gave delegates insights in how to create ‘health, wealth, love and relationships’. He also said that his organisation ran a number of ‘trading system training courses’ which could ‘help you escape the rat race’. Stephen said that everyone who came along to the Meetup could go to his ‘health, wealth and relationships’ lecture for free, and would be at the back of the room collecting names and email addresses after the talks.
It was then the turn of the main speaker. Dom described himself as a serial entrepreneur. He gave us an anecdote from his childhood where he scammed a woman who collected money from kids who paid to go on a bouncy castle. His second ‘business’ was selling goods to record shops. He now had a number of different roles: he did a bit of financial advice, and trained people to use financial advice software. The rest of the time, he said, is spent learning about stuff. He claimed to work only for himself, and he could do this by using loads of technology.
After about fifteen minutes of listening the purpose of the Meetup finally became clear. The group was connected to a best-selling business book (that I had never heard of) called ‘The Four Hour Work Week: Escape the 9-5, Live Anywhere and Join the New Rich’; a gloriously compelling title that immediately made me profoundly suspicious. Looking at the blurb, the book describes, ‘a whole new ball game’ and ‘roadmap’ which is also a ‘manifesto for the mobile lifestyle’. It’s a book that is said to help you change your life and enable you live your dreams, by ‘tearing apart conventional assumptions’. It was a book that enabled you to ‘live a millionaire lifestyle without being a millionaire’.
Dom had clearly bought into the dream. Technology, he argued, helps us to become so productive that we only have to work for four hours per week; we can take extended holidays and travel around the world as we ‘work’. We can do this by ‘being smart’ with different apps; we can outsource some of our admin to off-shore phone answering companies, and we can ask for graphical design work and audio jingles to be created for five dollars. His underlying message was: ‘be second foolish, and hour wise’.
Some of Dom’s tips were, admittedly, useful. He spoke about how to use a phone very cheaply when travelling abroad, and how to create a blog. Also, if you needed someone to do some hard technical coding stuff quickly, there were ‘micro contract’ sites that allow you to advertise your problems.
After Dom’s session, there was an opportunity for members of the group to present a series of 'elevator pitches'. I heard pitches for life-coaching services, on-line multi-lingual secretarial support, a number of new start-up businesses, a recruitment consultant, and a software coder. Finally, Akash, our group leader stood up and said that the London group was now bigger than the group in New York, and that free pizza had arrived. Everyone clapped.
There was a significant part of me that was steadfastly cynical. The people in the group were great, and Dom’s talk was interesting; it was slick and polished. It contained some great tips about how to work smarter, but I couldn’t get away from the feeling that the book conveyed a mystical ‘work related’ ideology. I think my own cynicism comes from my own work ethic: I would be lost without it. If I worked only four hours a week I probably would go insane because I would end up watching way too much day time television.
I found time to have a quick chat with Akash. I really liked him. Akash sorted out the venue, found the sponsors, and booked the speakers; for the next event he had found a speaker who was going to do a talk about public relations. Akash told me that the office area where the event was hosted was something called a ‘co-working space’ where different people from different organisations come together and use the space to run projects and have meetings. He also told me that he worked for a company that was a ‘free stuff aggregator’; businesses put free stuff on the internet, and his company tells people about the ‘free stuff’ it had found. I soon realised that Akash worked a whole lot more than four 'hours per week; he had full-time nine to five job.
The journey home was a new experience. I walked across Tower Bridge and along the south bank to London Bridge. It was dusk and it was warm; my face was cooled by a gentle breeze. London was illuminated by millions of lights.
A newly married couple had photographs taken whilst standing precariously on a wall by the Thames to catch the best possible view of the London skyline. I walked past couples holding hands, and solo photographers with tripods who were trying to get the perfect picture of Tower Bridge.
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