The Inverted Logic of Value: Why Society Rewards the Useless and Punishes the Essential

In one of his most memorable insights, the late anthropologist and radical thinker David Graeber wrote:  “The more useful a job is, the less it is paid.” It may sound like satire, but it’s a chilling truth — and perhaps more relevant today than ever before.

The 2024 Ipsos Global Trust Index offers a startling but unsurprising confirmation of Graeber’s claim: in Indonesia, my country of origin, the profession most trusted by the public is that of a teacher. Not a banker, not a CEO, not a politician — a teacher. And yet, teachers in Indonesia remain among the most underpaid and undervalued members of society. Despite the critical role they play in shaping future generations, they are routinely denied the material means to live with dignity. This is not merely a contradiction; it is a betrayal of our most basic social contract.

The situation is hardly better in France, where I now live. Here, the status of teacher is entangled in a thick web of hypocrisy and classist disdain. In certain circles of the upper middle class, becoming a teacher is quietly understood as a mark of failure — the career path of those who didn’t “succeed elsewhere.” In a country that prides itself on the republican ideals of liberté, égalité, fraternité, the very individuals who uphold its most cherished institution — public education — are marginalized, disrespected, and dismissed.

In stark contrast, professions considered “prestigious” are lavished with admiration and financial reward: medical doctors, lawyers, startup entrepreneurs, celebrity scientists, airline pilots, astronauts, and millionaire athletes. The admiration they receive is often not rooted in social utility, but in spectacle, visibility, and capital accumulation. It no longer matters what you contribute to the common good — only how much you earn, how well you perform, how brightly you shine. Human worth is now measured not by what one builds, heals, or teaches, but by how much one consumes and produces.

But while these values dominate the global North, they are not universal. In West Papua — a region colonized by Indonesia since 1963 and largely invisible in international discourse — I conducted an informal inquiry into how different professions are viewed. What I found was a social fabric still capable of recognizing its true pillars. There, respect is not reserved for elites or celebrities. It is directed toward priests, pastors, teachers, health workers, and community organizers — people who care, support, teach, and heal. Above all, it is the freedom fighters who are honored: those who, unpaid and unrecognized, risk their lives to defend the collective survival of their people.

A viral video recently circulating on social media captures this sentiment. In the clip, a Papuan schoolboy is asked to name the national hero whose image appears on a 10,000-rupiah bill. Without hesitation, he responds, “Egianus” — referring to Egianus Kogoya, a leader of the Free Papua Movement. The official answer, of course, is Frans Kaisiepo, a pro-Indonesian politician. But the child’s response is no accident. It reflects a deeper truth: the state may try to erase certain figures from public memory, but the people remember and revere those who fight for their dignity.

Across geographies and histories, the pattern repeats itself: the most vital work is the most neglected. Meanwhile, professions with little inherent social value are rewarded and glorified. This upside-down logic feeds inequality, accelerates environmental collapse, and strips society of its moral bearings — all while continuing to reward those who contribute to its decline.

It doesn’t have to be this way. We must stop idolizing the destroyers and start honoring the builders. Those who educate, feed, heal, and protect the vulnerable are the true architects of a humane society. They do not ask for fame. They ask for fair conditions, for the right to live and continue their work.

This is not only a matter of justice — it is a matter of survival. A society that despises its foundations will not endure. The time has come to reorient our values and put human dignity — real, grounded, collective dignity — back at the heart of labor, compensation, and respect.