The incorrect definition of ‘work’ lies at the heart of two troubling global trends: a stagnation in productivity and a general decline in self-reported wellbeing.

First, a history lesson.

In 1934, a brilliant statistician named Simon Kuznets delivered a report to the US congress. He suggested that ‘Gross Domestic Product’ (GDP) could be measured in order to get a snapshot of how the economy was doing. The government hoped monitoring this number would help prevent a disaster like the Great Depression from happening again.

Simon Kuznets (right) accepting his Nobel Prize from King Gustav Adolf of Sweden, 1971. Bettmann / Corbis

Ten years later, the victors of the Second World War were keen to ensure massive debts would not build up and trigger yet another global conflict. To that end, the Allies sent their top economists to the United States to negotiate a new financial structure for the world. The Americans — zealously confident in the mystical attributes of their depression-busting, war-winning formula — convinced the conference to adopt GDP as the primary measurement of economic health. Not even the Soviet Union strayed far from this new orthodoxy, developing a model they called ‘Net Material Product’ which counts the value of goods, but not services. The International Monetary Fund and the World Bank were born — and GDP has been their bread and butter ever since.

History may have forgotten an important line from Kuznets’ 1934 report. Indeed he leaves us a stark warning about leaning too heavily on such a basic measurement. He tells us:

“Distinctions must be kept in mind between quantity and quality of growth”

Three quarters of a century and countless bloody conflicts later, Kuznets’ warning still falls on deaf ears. It’s not for lack of trying — academics are constantly suggesting new metrics for economic health and growth quality. Some environmental economists even advocate intentionally shrinking economies. This hasn’t stopped many governments from pursuing policies that drive relentlessly towards GDP growth. Their goal is to improve market confidence and offset national debt, but this comes at the expense of every other definition of success. Perhaps most telling of all is the total impotence of global productivity growth in recent years, despite huge leaps in technology. In other words, people throughout the world are working harder than ever for the same results.

It should be clear that GDP is not suitable for discussing an economy’s long or even medium-term prospects.

Therefore, why haven’t we discarded it?

One reason is institutional inertia. Lingering fear of catastrophe since the Cold War has transformed economics into the most sober of sciences, while politics lurches towards the theatrical. Real-life economic experiments can only be conducted in dire circumstances because the consequences can be so severe. ‘Growth’ itself has ascended to the role of phantom religion, spawning reworked copies of itself, like ‘self-improvement’. Actual well-being of any kind — be it the long-term viability of the environment, the fulfilment of a human being or the dynamism of an economy — is implicitly understood as secondary to the vacant concept of progress. This phenomenon is global — a cursory glance at China’s state press reveals panic because young people value patience over restlessness. The lingering irony of the cult of progress is its total lack of vitality.

In failing to challenge our definition of progress, we fail to make progress.

How do we let go of this psychic dead weight? A good place to start would be to rethink how we define ‘work’. Trends like telecommuting and unlimited paid leave show that the digital business community is already starting to understand this. Companies now take ‘soft inputs’ into consideration, dispensing with the myth that quality outputs are dependent on long hours trapped in an office. Over the next few years, it seems likely that innovative startups and HR departments will go even further and measure soft outputs. This shift will go hand in hand with the dismantling of the gender earnings gap, as more women take key leadership positions in Silicon Valley. Companies will recognise that a great deal more emotional labour is demanded from women than men in the workplace, and furthermore that this labour is both challenging and essential to the success of any organisation.

Perhaps equally radical are the many modern businesses who do not consider growth — let alone rapid growth — to be a key business goal. The sportswear brand Patagonia has a mission statement that mentions ‘success in the marketplace’ almost as an afterthought. More and more entrepreneurs are choosing to take a step back from work once they attain their desired income, focusing instead on their relationships, families, health or creative pursuits.

Picking out the few opportunities that matter unlocks a new vigour and discipline in pursuing them.

The growing digital nomad movement is an interesting case study. Many nomads are stuck deeply in the ‘growth quantity’ mindset, setting goals without questioning why they have that goal. It’s not uncommon to meet working nomads who believe they must live an impulsive lifestyle because that’s what they’ve seen other remote workers do. These nomads are attached to the digital nomad identity just as many economic decision-makers are attached to GDP growth. As a result, we don’t have to look far to find widespread dissatisfaction in the digital nomad community. On the other hand, remote workers who take the time to examine their motivations tend to find blissful ways to live and work. In Thailand for instance — perhaps the archetypal remote work destination — more and more nomads are maturing into community-oriented Digital Expats.

Enduring wellbeing soon follows.