Swiss summer, a stuck shutter and how to AI-proof your career
My Zürich apartment building is a solid Swiss 1960s affair that has the odd twist of Japan (landscaping and terraces) and maybe a bit of Palm Springs (angular modernism and plenty of concrete). This August will mark five years of living under its gravel roof and on a sunny day like today, with the boats crisscrossing the lake, the meadows in the distance and snowy peaks beyond, I feel very lucky. Indeed, it’s something that I never take for granted. I marvel at the view and overall set-up every day that I’m here.
In these warmer months, I also have enormous respect for the architects of the period who put a lot of thought into shade and cross-ventilation to keep residential structures cool. My building didn’t come with a user’s guide for dealing with days over 30C but I’ve enjoyed figuring out how to keep it pleasant on even the hottest days in the heart of Europe. As air conditioning is not a thing here (for now), it takes a bit of planning to know when to adjust the shutters, roll down the blinds, roll them back up, keep some windows closed, others open and when it’s just the right moment to harness a cooling cross breeze. I’d say that 90 per cent of the time I manage to get it right. But on my return from Lisbon last week, a late arrival and too little time for the necessary adjustments meant that an uncomfortable night was compounded by a humid lid hanging over the city and the lack of even the gentlest breath of wind.
A couple of days ago, some new adjustments were made to the shutters – a daytime blackout strategy was put into action. With the overall effect somewhat limited, it was decided that the blackout should be lifted and I set about rolling up the shutters (manually, I might add) and letting the light back in. Or almost. While some shutters were a bit creaky and uncooperative, all went back into place save for one stretch across the front of the apartment. For whatever reason, this roller shutter was particularly grumpy and didn’t want to glide back into its perfectly engineered pocket. It was clearly enjoying the sun, the view and the freedom of being stretched out rather than cramped up. Before long it was a three-person operation but despite much cranking, jiggling and tugging – it wouldn’t budge. What to do? As it was almost dinnertime, we decided to enjoy the dipping sun and the bottle of local white that had been opened. “I think this is one for the morning,” I announced. “We’ll call the manufacturer and get them to fix it.”
On the lower part of the frame I found the name of the manufacturer and snapped a photo. How was this going to play out tomorrow? Would they say that the system was out of production and no longer worthy of a call-out, or that they were already summer break? Or would they spring into action to mend their damaged product? As I was thinking through these scenarios, I was reminded of a conversation that I had with Switzerland’s former ambassador to the US on the topic of installing, maintaining and repairing everything from air conditioners to jet engines and roller shutters. “This is where there’s an acute shortage of skilled labour and it’s going to be these jobs that will not be touched by AI,” he explained. “There’s too much focus on consulting and big tech and not enough on the people who will need to build the infrastructure to house and support these businesses.” I stared at the jammed shutter and thought about all the other window systems that must be out of commission and in need of semi-urgent attention – particularly in the summer months.
Rather than waiting for the company to show up, what if there was a round-the-clock service of highly trained, exquisitely turned-out handy boys who could come round and deal with the problem? In a world where changing a light bulb is too complex or seen as dangerous by many, could this be an idea worth pursuing? A new corps of highly paid, well-respected tradespeople responsible for making the world go round? A recent article in a Canadian daily underlined why there’s money to be made in addressing this hands-on skills gap. Canada has big infrastructure and housing ambitions (like so many other countries) but with an acute shortage of teachers in trade schools, there is little hope of pulling these projects off with home-trained talent. We need a fresh approach to not only creating a new class of educators but also a climate where these necessary skills are recognised as a fast track to rewarding, AI-proof six-figure careers.
Fancy spending some time on the shores of Lake Zürich this summer? Our handy City Guide has everything that you need to know.
