What's crushing New Zealand workers? Not the weather events dominating insurance company headlines. It's the slow, relentless damage happening at desks, in trucks, on factory floors.

9,768 workers developed compression syndrome in 2024. That's carpal tunnel, trapped nerves, crushed spinal discs. The kind of injury that doesn't happen in a single moment. It accumulates. (Source: Stats NZ / ACC, work-injuries-by-industry)

To find a comparable figure, you have to scroll back to 2009. Fifteen years ago. This isn't a spike. It's a trend that briefly improved, then reversed hard.

The numbers fell during the pandemic. In 2021, compression syndrome cases dropped to 6,378. People worked from home. Offices emptied. Then we all went back. By 2022, cases surged to 9,714. They've stayed near that level ever since.

Think about what that means. For three years running, nearly 10,000 New Zealanders have been told their body is failing them because of how they earn a living. That's 27 people every single day developing a condition that's often permanent, frequently painful, and entirely preventable.

Compression syndrome isn't dramatic. Nobody writes news stories when an office worker's wrist goes numb or a driver's back gives out. But the cumulative cost is staggering. These are ACC claims that stretch for years. Workers who need surgery, physiotherapy, retraining. Careers that end not with a bang but with tingling fingers that won't grip a pen.

The 2024 figure represents a 40% increase from the pandemic low. We returned to offices, warehouses, and worksites. And we returned to injury patterns we thought we'd improved.

What changed between 2009 and 2021? Workplace safety campaigns. Ergonomic assessments. Standing desks. Awareness. Then what changed between 2021 and 2024? We stopped paying attention. Businesses tightened budgets. Workers accepted conditions they wouldn't have tolerated five years ago because they were grateful to have jobs.

The data doesn't tell you which industries are worst. It doesn't break down by age or region. But it tells you this: whatever we're doing in New Zealand workplaces right now is slowly breaking nearly 10,000 people a year.

And unlike the flooding at Lake Forsyth or the weather claims hitting insurers, nobody's asking why we didn't see this coming. Nobody's demanding answers about why the gates weren't opened before the damage was done.

Because compression syndrome is gradual. And gradual crises don't make headlines. They just quietly ruin backs, wrists, and necks while everyone looks the other way.