Katie Paris leaned forward over a teetering stack of wooden blocks and said what a lot of people quietly believe but rarely state so plainly: ‘You may think you don’t do politics, but politics will do you.’ It landed not as a lecture but as a dare. Two women with very different professional lives, one a workplace reform advocate and self-described anti-career coach, the other the founder of a political engagement organization, were sitting together playing a game of Jenga, and somehow they kept agreeing. That is the small, specific surprise at the center of this conversation: the tower wobbled constantly, the laughter was genuine, and not one real disagreement emerged.
Danielle Roberts introduced herself as someone who believes the 40-hour work week is already obsolete, not just inconvenient. She pushed further: ‘I think realistically we could be at a point of three-day work weeks.’ Her reasoning was not wishful thinking. Studies conducted across multiple countries, she noted, have consistently shown that a four-day schedule increases both worker productivity and employee retention, which means it saves businesses money too. The Industrial Revolution built the current structure more than a century ago, and the work itself looks nothing like it did then.
Why stepping back from politics is still a political act
The question that stopped the room was the rapid-fire one about opting out. Paris did not hesitate. Choosing not to vote, not to engage, not to show up at a town council meeting is not neutrality, she argued. It is a decision with consequences, and those consequences fall on the person who stepped aside. The antidote to feeling overwhelmed, she said, is to go local. Town councils and school boards shape daily life in ways that executive-level politics often do not, and a single person can actually move something at that scale.
Roberts added a layer that pulled the conversation toward trust rather than tactics. When asked whether one conversation can genuinely change a mind, she said yes, but with a condition: the relationship has to already carry some weight. ‘Are we listening to hear the person,’ she asked, ‘or are we just listening to respond?’ Paris echoed it immediately: ‘That. That part.’
Rest, joy, and what they have to do with any of this
The conversation took a turn that felt unexpected but not out of place. Roberts admitted, without prompting, that she feels guilty about resting. She knows rest produces better ideas and stronger leadership. She is working on it. What followed was a distinction she clearly cares about: active rest, which is sleep and stillness, versus restorative rest, which is a hobby that brings genuine pleasure and that a person does not monetize. ‘It makes your work more sustainable,’ she said. ‘It makes infrastructure for democracy more sustainable.’ Paris hugged her for that one.
On social media and democracy, Roberts drew on 15 years working in social media marketing. More access to information made her a more informed citizen, she said, but knowing how targeting algorithms operate made her ask a harder question while scrolling: whose voices am I not hearing right now?
The woman near the Jenga table who said she likes to breathe
After Roberts knocked the tower over and drew the mystery challenge, she spent several minutes trying to get six strangers to vote for a silly law requiring every workplace to have a dog. One person, allergic to dogs, delivered a sad-faced no and explained simply: ‘I like to breathe.’
The tower was already on the floor by then, blocks scattered, both women laughing. Roberts had come in arguing that workplaces need to be redesigned from the ground up. Paris had come in arguing that democracy only functions when people actually show up. Neither budged from those positions, and neither had to.
