Atypical work isn't an anomaly: it's a strategy. After exploring how power shapes those in charge and how relational dynamics drive organizations, let's look elsewhere: in recent decades, amid boom-and-bust economic cycles, rule-changing technologies, and ever-changing markets, companies have found an ally in flexible contracts—temporary, part-time, on-call. It's not a substitute for permanent employment, which is still prevalent in industrialized countries, but a tool for quick adaptation: more heads when needed, lower costs when not. Yet, behind "flexibility" lies a question: for whom is it truly an advantage? Here begins a journey into the logic of organizations and the lives of those within them.
Core and periphery: the organization and those who live it
Companies aren't monoliths: they move like concentric circles, with a core and many edges. Aronsson's "core-periphery" model explains it well: at the center are stable employees, those with permanent contracts, often qualified, pampered with training and benefits—they are the engine that never stops. Around them are layers of atypical workers: from substitutes filling gaps (a nurse in the hospital on extended leave) to temporary contract workers (a designer hired for a campaign), to on-call "ghosts" (a warehouse worker waiting for the phone to Amazon on Black Friday). Each circle has a purpose: seasonal contracts in agriculture (apple pickers in Trentino) provide temporary boosts, while temporary contracts (subcontracted workers in a factory) bring tailored skills. For organizations, it's gold: you cut fixed costs, avoid rigidities, and respond to the market. But there's a price: less commitment—those who just drop in don't stick around—and intermittent training. Why invest in those who disappear? Workplace safety is also a conundrum: a temp agency can wash its hands of it, leaving the user to improvise.
And who does he work for? This is where the psychological contract comes in, that unwritten pact between you and your paymaster . For those on the "peripheral" side, it's often a cold deal: money and little else—no promises of a future, no sense of home. A European study on working conditions clearly states it: temporary workers feel less engaged, less motivated, less satisfied—and it's not just perception. Precariousness weighs heavily: a 2020 Italian study found higher anxiety and burnout among those who hop from one contract to another, with real physical effects—insomnia, headaches, hearts that beat too fast. It depends on volition: those who choose part-time work to spend time with their children (a Swedish mother with a generous parental system) cope better than those who endure it for lack of anything else (a young man in Calabria with no alternatives). Organizational flexibility is a balancing act: for the company it's light, for the worker it can be a millstone.
Rebalancing with atypical work: flexibility that works
Atypical work isn't evil, but it's no walk in the park either . Companies gain agility from it, but risk creating an army of disillusioned workers; workers find space in it, but often at a high price. Can we do better? Yes, by building bridges. Warmer psychological contracts help: not just "I pay you for this," but "I see you, I train you, I keep you inside." A Dutch retailer has done it: its seasonal workers receive tailored courses and a direct channel to managers – turnover has dropped by 20% in two years. Targeted training, even short-term, provides marketable skills – a substitute on a construction site who learns safety is not only more useful, but more relaxed. And belonging? It doesn't take much: a temporary employment agency in Germany organizes meetings between temporary and permanent workers – the climate improves, and so does productivity. Studies like the one by Eurofound (2021) confirm it: fairness and dialogue reduce the stress of precarious workers. Flexibility shouldn't be a luxury for the few: if the core expands, the periphery can breathe too – and everyone benefits.
