On Workers’ Day, South Africa will once again celebrate the dignity of labour. Speeches will be made, banners will be raised, and the language of “job creation” will echo across podiums. But beneath the symbolism lies an uncomfortable truth: we are honouring work in an economy where it remains out of reach for millions.
By the expanded definition, more than 40% of working-age South Africans are unemployed. Among young people, that figure rises to nearly one in two. This is not a marginal failure. It is a structural reality. And it forces a more difficult question: What exactly are we celebrating when the majority cannot participate in the system we uphold?
This is not just a crisis of unemployment – it is a crisis of how we define work itself.
For decades, South Africa’s economic promise has been anchored in a simple idea: formal employment is the primary route to dignity, stability, and upward mobility. This made sense in an industrial economy where large firms could absorb labour at scale. But that world is fading. Today, even as roughly 16 to 17 million South Africans are employed, millions more – over 8 million by expanded measures – remain locked out, with little realistic prospect of absorption into the formal sector at the scale required.
And yet, our policies, corporate strategies, and public discourse remain fixated on a shrinking model of work.
“Workers’ Day, in its current form, risks becoming a commemoration of exclusion.”
Even the idea that economic growth will naturally translate into jobs is becoming harder to sustain. Across sectors – from retail to telecoms and mining – large, listed companies continue to announce retrenchments; not as a temporary response to crisis but as part of ongoing restructuring in an economy that demands doing more with fewer people. In other words, the very firms we expect to absorb labour are steadily learning to operate with less of it.
We speak of unemployment as if millions are idle. They are not. Across townships and rural areas, a different kind of economy is already alive. It is found in the young creative monetising music and culture without a record label; in the informal trader building a customer base through WhatsApp; in the freelance coder sourcing global work from a smartphone; and in the countless side hustles that never appear in official statistics but sustain households every day.
This is work. It is just not recognised as such.
The informal sector alone supports close to 3 million South Africans yet contributes only a small fraction of gross domestic product (GDP) and remains marginal in policy design. At the same time, small businesses are estimated to employ the majority of the workforce and contribute up to 40% of economic output; yet South Africa continues to lag behind its peers in fostering new entrepreneurial activity. We rely on this ecosystem but we do not adequately enable it.
Workers’ Day, in its current form, risks becoming a commemoration of exclusion – honouring those within the formal system while overlooking the ingenuity of those forced to operate outside it. If dignity is tied only to formal employment, then we are effectively declaring that millions of South Africans live without it. That cannot be the standard.
The challenge, then, is not simply to create more jobs. It is to expand our understanding of what counts as meaningful economic participation.
This requires a shift in mindset as much as policy.
Wages to ownership
First, we must legitimise and support the informal and digital economy – not treat it as a temporary stopgap. That means rethinking how we provide access to finance, infrastructure, and markets for those operating outside traditional business structures. It means recognising that a young person running an online clothing brand or producing music independently is not “unemployed” – they are an entrepreneur navigating a system that has yet to catch up.
Second, corporate South Africa must confront its role in perpetuating exclusion. Hiring practices that demand prior experience for entry-level roles, or networks that privilege the already connected, systematically lock out new entrants. If businesses are serious about transformation, they must go beyond compliance metrics and actively design pathways for inclusion – whether through procurement, incubation or new forms of partnership with emerging enterprises.
Third, we need to shift the conversation from wages to ownership. South Africa remains one of the most unequal societies in the world, with a Gini coefficient above 0.6 and the top 10% holding the overwhelming majority of wealth. In such a context, wages alone will never close the gap. Work that does not build assets will not deliver meaningful economic freedom. Employee share, ownership schemes, community trusts, and innovative empowerment structures must move from the margins to the mainstream.
“What will save us is a broader, more inclusive vision of work.”
Finally, government must move with urgency and imagination. The policy toolkit of the past – industrial incentives, public sector employment, and regulatory adjustments – will not be enough on its own. South Africa has high levels of mobile connectivity and a growing digital user base yet lacks a coherent strategy to translate this into mass participation in the global digital economy. The question is no longer whether this shift will happen, but whether we will lead or lag behind it.
None of this is to suggest that formal employment no longer matters. It does. Jobs remain a critical pillar of economic stability and social cohesion. But they can no longer be the only pillar.
Redefining work
Today, more than 18 million South Africans rely on social grants, more than those in formal employment. This is not a moral failing; it is a signal of an economy under strain, one that has not kept pace with the needs of its people. It underscores the urgency of building new pathways to participation.
Workers’ Day should not just be a celebration of those who have jobs. It should be a reckoning with those who do not – and a recognition of those who are redefining work on their own terms.
If we are honest, the most dangerous myth in our economy is that jobs alone will save us. They won’t – not at the scale or speed required. What will save us is a broader, more inclusive vision of work: one that values hustle as much as hierarchy, creation as much as employment, and ownership as much as income.
Until then, Workers’ Day will remain a celebration for some – and a reminder, for many others, of an economy that has yet to find a place for them.
*Usiphile Mpetsheni is a UCT alumni, and a chartered accountant working as a senior manager in audit, who writes on corporate finance, economic policy, industrial development and transformation policy.
