A fisherman ought to be able to go to work without having to become a symbol. There is something troubling about the point at which earning a living acquires the significance of defiance, however much we may admire the people doing it.
Amnesty International’s description of fishermen and their boats in terms of resistance brings that tension into view. The supplied reporting does not establish the particular circumstances or dangers involved, so it would be wrong to supply them. But the description itself deserves attention: what happens when ordinary work becomes something the rest of us are invited to celebrate as courage?
Work can hold a life together in ways that extend well beyond its income. There is the knowledge of how to do something properly, the people who depend on it, the familiarity of a task that remains yours even when much else feels uncertain. Continuing may preserve a measure of ownership over your life.
Yet admiration can become a surprisingly comfortable position for the spectator. We praise people for carrying on, then begin to expect it of them. Their endurance becomes evidence that they can endure some more.
There is a complication here. Refusing to recognise courage can diminish what people are doing. Calling everything ordinary may conceal the extraordinary effort required. The answer cannot be to withdraw recognition. It is to resist turning recognition into an obligation placed on somebody else.
A person who continues deserves to be heard. So does a person who stops, leaves or decides that the cost has become unbearable. Neither choice gives an audience permission to take possession of their life and make it serve a preferred story.
This matters in how we respond to people much closer to home, too. When someone keeps working through difficulty, praise may be welcome. It is worth asking what would actually make their day less difficult, and being prepared for an inconvenient answer. Otherwise, “you’re so resilient” can become a rather graceful way of leaving them to it.