A better way

It's easy to get lost in the narrow, winding streets of Jerusalem. The ancient city is carved up into four distinct quarters, each inhabited by Jews, Muslims, Christians and Armenians respectively, who have each fiercely and passionately protected their corner of the historic town for centuries.

But despite its significance as the centre of multiple religions, the old city is crammed into a tiny parcel of land that totals less than one square kilometre, walled in on all four sides by stony, sunburnt walls. Internally, each quarter is separated by differences in archaeology and ideology. The Jewish Quarter is dominated by the Western Wall and dozens of crumbling synagogues. The Muslim Quarter is packed tight with sellers hawking spices, incense and brassware on every corner. The Armenian Quarter is mostly walled off, allowing its residents to live quietly away from the crowds. And if you wander through each of the quarters and follow the natural slope of the streets downwards, you'll eventually end up in a small, unassuming courtyard in the Christian Quarter that faces directly towards two large wooden doors. These doors guard the most contested church in the world.

It's estimated there are between 8 and 16 million churches1 on Earth. No one is quite sure of the exact number, but there is consensus at least on which of those is the holiest for the two billion followers of Christianity. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is built on the supposed sites of two of the most important locations in Christian history: the rock that Jesus was said to be crucified on, and the empty cave where it's believed he was buried and resurrected.

Unsurprisingly, this church is always teeming with people. At every hour of the day, thousands of tourists queue ten-deep to enter the altar built over the land where the tomb once stood, lining up to shuffle underneath a small table and place their hand into a dark crevice to rub the surface of the rock formation that Jesus may have been crucified on. The combination of emotional pilgrims, hazy processional smoke, noisy tourists and a haphazard layout make it an overwhelming experience.

Part of the reason for this chaotic feeling inside the church is that no one actually takes full responsibility for the maintenance of the holiest building on Earth. There are six denominations that all share the burden: the Greek Orthodox, Armenian Apostolic, Roman Catholic, Coptic Orthodox, Syriac Orthodox and Ethiopian Orthodox, and none of them can agree on who controls the church. After centuries of fighting over who had the right to use the building, in the 1700s all six denominations reluctantly came to the agreement that they would not do anything to change the building in any way without the consent of all the other owners. This agreement means that nothing ever changes. The most important church in the world remains frozen in time due to fear of action.

If you stand in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre today, watching dazed tourists spill out into the sunlight, and raise your eyes a few metres above the main entrance towards a small ledge, you'll notice something unusual: a single ladder - five rungs, wooden - leaning casually up against the wall. It looks like a tradesman may have left it there and will return any minute now to pick it up.

But nobody will be moving it. This rogue ladder has been leaning against the facade of the church since at least 1728, when a black and white engraving of the building first captured it there.2 For three centuries it's remained stuck in place, because none of the six groups can agree on who should be the one to move it. This solitary ladder is a stubborn tribute to doing nothing, purely because that's the way things have always been done.

The immovable ladder of Jerusalem is an extreme example of what happens when you get so blinded by the mirage of stability that you give up on trying to make any sort of change. It's a perfect symbol of the price of inaction, and once you become aware of these symbols you start seeing them everywhere.

Humans are hardwired to take the path of least resistance. We lean towards what our ancestors and peers have always done, often unconsciously modelling our behaviour on what is most familiar to us without questioning if it's the right or best course of action. Neuroscientists call this our Default Mode Network, an interconnected series of brain areas that are most active when you're not focused on what is happening around you. While you might not know the scientific name for this, you're certain to have felt it in action. Have you ever commuted to work without consciously thinking about where you are going? There's a part of your mind that can switch into autopilot, telling you which bus stop to get off at, what direction to turn and when you should cross the street. When you arrive at work, your mind has been so busy thinking through other things - daydreaming, solving problems, going over old conversations or planning for the future - that you hardly remember the journey you took to get there. That is your brain's Default Mode Network in action, and it's what happens when we perform tasks without thinking much about what we're doing.

This is what many of us are doing with our lives. We are living on autopilot, giving little thought to where are we heading. This is a behaviour that pops up in all aspects of life, from relationships to financial habits and everything in between. It is especially pertinent to the ways that we traditionally work, such as a typical Monday to Friday, nine-to-five work week and other workplace norms. The 40-hour work week has been the status quo for roughly a century, since workers around the world began revolting against the longer weeks that the industrial revolution had ushered in. There has been little change to this system since the late 1800s, despite almost everything else we do evolving significantly since then.

This sleepwalking way of living is driven by fear of the unknown. We are so used to it that it's easier to just shrug and put up with it - just like the immovable ladder of Jerusalem. The direction of our lives hasn't changed in a century. Don't you think it's about time it did?

Default mode

Our standard approach to work tends to follow a cycle that begins around our early twenties and continues on a loop until we retire. It goes like this: when you finish school, some people head to university to study, others move overseas to travel, and many head straight into the workforce, trying to learn new skills you can use to build a career over the coming decades. Most of us have no idea what we want to do, so the area you begin working in might be influenced by factors such as proximity to your house, a suggestion from a careers counsellor, someone you saw in popular culture, a connection through friends or family, or an available job that requires little experience. We tend to go with what's most convenient at the time, without really considering that this could set us on a path that we might follow for the next four decades.

Eventually, after graduating, returning from travel, or fuelled by a need to earn money, you start looking for full-time work. This is usually Monday to Friday, but it can also be shift work or after-hours work, depending on the industry. You scour job boards, sign up to endless daily career-website emails and suggestions from LinkedIn. If you're connected enough, you might try to network with people you know in the field, leaning heavily on contacts for introductions, leg-ups and anything that might give you an advantage over other candidates.

With enough luck, and patience, you eventually find a job ad that looks interesting. You apply, often along with hundreds of other applicants, crossing your fingers that your experience and neatly typed CV are good enough to land you an interview. Then, finally, yes! You get an email inviting you to attend an interview.

You get excited, research the company, practise the interview, and then nervously turn up on the day. It's all a bit of a blur. Afterwards, you can't recall many of the questions they asked, except that one time you floundered a bit, desperately trying to give them the answer they wanted. You're certain that was the moment you lost the job. You constantly check your emails and phone for the fortnight they said the interview process would take, convincing yourself that you messed it up and the job will go to someone else.

After an agonising wait, you get an unexpected phone call. They offer you the job, and you're over the moon to finally have some paid work. They email you a contract, and you get to properly read the details of the offer - the title, the salary, the start date. Of course, you'd like a higher salary (who wouldn't?), but it sounds pretty reasonable, and you're just happy to have secured a steady job and a regular income. You return the signed contract enthusiastically. Congratulations, you've got a job.

The value exchange of labour for resources is as old as time. The primary reason most people work is to earn money to feed, clothe and advance ourselves and our family. When you start any new job, your employer will inform you how much you will earn to compensate you for your time and effort. Occasionally there's some room for negotiation, but this figure is generally set by the employer with little input from the employee.

From then, your salary is paid every week, fortnight or month. For a hot minute, you check...