Tag: Philosophy

Childlike Humility, Adult Pride and Existential Anxiety

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

What about being like children is necessary to be Christ-like?

Children are immature, unexperienced, and unknowledgeable. But they’re also trusting, unpretentious, and totally dependent on their parents. They’re the best illustration of the proper relationship we need to have to God. Of course, like most metaphors, they’re imperfect like any human attempt at communicating complex ideas; however, we can identify the key insight. Jesus wants us to learn how to be humble like a child.

This means unlearning some of what we consider to be virtues of maturing into adults. We think it’s sophisticated to become more skeptical and critical, more in-tune with the nuances of blending in with adult society and being adept at climbing social hierarchies, and becoming increasingly independent and self-sufficient. But these are virtues in a broken world. We wouldn’t have to be skeptical if there weren’t people out there trying to deceive us, or try to create a façade to conform with society if we were perfectly power, or be self-sufficient if our basic needs were always cared for. In trying to adapt to this broken world, we grow in pride.

Augustine considered pride the foundational sin. He wrote, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.” What is pride? In short, it’s a need for superiority. The idea to be better than others, which is an antithesis of serving others. CS Lewis write, “Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better-looking than others.” Pride chases dominance and control, and it leads to so many other sins, which is why these writers argue it’s the foundational sin. The pursuit of superiority of others leads not only to careless selfishness but an active contempt towards others. It warps into anger, sorrow, greed, and all the other categories of sins. And, most dangerously, it pushes us into an internal state of establishing a kingdom where we worship ourselves and our own aspirations. This isolates us from God.

CS Lewis expanded on this idea: “Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.” The reason pride is the foundational sin and leads to every other sin is because it’s the first step in completely turning away from God. Like a child severing their ties to their from the guidance of their parents, we can’t be corrected if we look only to ourselves and set ourselves as the objects of worship.

CS Lewis warns, “As long as you are proud, you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.” Pride blinds us from the presence of God because we believe we can take the place of God and determine what will happen next on our own strength and wisdom. We’re the adults. We’re in charge of things and need to use our skills to push forward and shape our future. It sounds so obviously foolish, but we fall into this trap without knowing it. Not only is pride the foundational sin, it’s the sin that is the most subtle.

CS Lewis writes, “The devil laughs. He is perfectly content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self-controlled provided, all the time, he is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride—just as he would be quite content to see your chilblains cured if he was allowed, in return, to give you cancer.” Our language is limited in capturing and understanding this foundational sin. We can be “proud” of our loved ones or “proud” of doing good work, and it’s hard to call this a sin. As long as our minds are outside of ourselves and we’re “proud” without giving glory to ourselves and instead praising others, we’re far away from the insidious evil of pride that might be present if we’re “proud” of our loved ones because of how it reflects on us or “proud” of good work was done by you. Even a crude proud attitude to desire to be celebrated because you want the approval of others from a place of insecurity is still better than the “pride” of thinking the approval of others is not necessary because you are so much superior; of course, as CS Lewis advises, it’s better to forget about ourself altogether and serve others and the Lord.

That’s how we fight pride. “True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” CS Lewis continues, “Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him.” We need child-like humility with all the wisdom and strength of being an adult. We need the wisdom from God to discern and pull apart what’s sinful pride from ourselves and our broken world from the grace and maturity that we’re given from God. We’re tricked by pride into thinking that being more sophisticated and mature means being more confident in our own wisdom and being more self-reliant. But it takes more wisdom and strength to be humble. How much mental strength does it take for Job to continue worshipping God when everything is taken away from him rather than cursing him and taking life into his own hands? How much wisdom does it take for Moses to defy all conventional wisdom of the day and take the Israelites out of Egypt?

The best illustration of child-like humility being warped by this world comes from the period of transition to adulthood: teenagers. Children are awkwardly transitioning into members of this broken world. They search for a new identity away from their parents. They have a naïve belief that heir limited worldview is superior to their parents’. They seek their own freedom and independence from their parents. They come across new hurts, they become skeptical and less trusting, and their childlike joy becomes filtered through having to adapt to the norms of this broken world.

There’s a relationship between pride and a certain kind of anxiety that I can’t get a clear thought about. Maybe an existential anxiety. But I do know that humility is the antidote. I think the essential nature of pride that puts ourselves in the place of God comes into conflict with a world where we aren’t God. We come short. And the anxiety comes from this tension between our internal states and the outer world. But I think this anxiety helps us return to God, like pain helps us to avoid the hot fire. In perfect humility, there is no existential anxiety. In fact, there is no fear of what comes next. There is true freedom in humility because, in total dependence of God, there is nothing to fear in the next step we take.

The 9-5 Lie

 I did everything right. I did well in school and spent countless nights sacrificing sleep, partying, and fun and I was promised it would off on the other side. I got the corporate 9-5, but I spend all my time commuting, getting ready for work, and I really only have a couple of hours to yourself on the weekdays unless I want to punish myself tomorrow and sacrifice sleep. Which I keep doing, but even with a full night’s sleep, I’m still tired all the time. I spend every weekend catching up on chores and being too tired to enjoy my hobbies. There’s no end to this in sight. My “Sunday scaries” are turning into a daily dread of going into work, everyday is meaningless, and, honestly, I’m on the edge of a mental breakdown. Is this just adult life?

You probably resonate with at least some of this. And there’s a lot to unpack here. There’s the social pressures of following a traditional, risk adverse route to a career: get some education, find a stable job, raise a family- something-something-something for 40 years,–nd maybe you can retire, enjoy your hobbies for a few years while your body rots, and then die.

There’s the financial pressures of working full-time and still not being able to afford luxuries or even the bare necessities and living paycheck to paycheck. Unless you’re getting a sizable inheritance, the average young adult is not buying a house on their salary. Then there’s the pressure of the job itself: you’re there like your entire day, the majority of it is boring nonsense, and it’s like a dull stream of constant stress. You’re tired all the time–not just physically, but emotionally–your entire soul is tired.

And of course you’re tired: you’re doing something that you don’t like for the whole day. Of course you’re bored: you have no time or money for stuff you actually like doing. Of course you’re anxious: you feel trapped in this cycle and everybody is telling you this is normal and to suck it up like an adult. Of course you’re depressed: you’ll never have the life that the 1% get to live and you have to do this meaningless work for the next 40 years.

History of work, hustle culture, and reactions

In August 14, 2013, Doreen Ford created a subreddit /r/antiwork which criticized modern work and eventually grew to, as of making this video, 2.8 million members. Unfortunately, in 2022, Ford had an interview with Fox News’ Jesse Watters that went, oh, not so great. Antiwork is a leftist movement and an interview on Fox was bound to be contentious. And it’s a big moment for this internet movement: it’s an opportunity to introduce millions of people–a general audience that likely isn’t on the internet much and certainly doesn’t hang around leftist groups–to be introduced and be convinced of this movement. Doreen Ford is a trans woman with no media training and seemingly very little preparation. The interview reinforced a lot of prejudices about anti-work: they’re a bunch of weird internet kids whining about working because they’re lazy, entitled, and haven’t worked hard for anything in their life. Isn’t it interesting how political movements can lose their legitimacy so fast if they’re seen as cringe? Like fedora wearing neckbeards and new atheism, or JD Vance having sex with a couch and conservatives getting called weird. We should get like furry sleeper agents to infiltrate hate groups to make them cringe.

Anyway, despite the poor public launch, the anti-work subreddit clearly resonates with a lot of people. Something is going wrong with modern work, and more and more people are unhappy. These people aren’t lazy or entitle or delusion; they’re the working class and they have legitimate criticisms. The U.S. has a lot of wage stagnation, high job turnover, and job insecurity. People have abuses bosses, long hours for low pay, and toxic work environments. Jobs have weird corporate cultures, are devoid of meaning, and leave us no time or energy to live the rest of our lives. You can always say it could be worse: there are always people working more for less and being oppressed even more. Or you can stick your head in the sand and say that’s just how work is: work is work; it’s not fun. But work is such a fundamental part of people’s lives that it’s probably worth looking into these issues. There seems to be something broken with work in the modern world that’s making a lot of people unhappy. 

How did we get here? Here’s a super short history: in the 17th, 18th, and 19th century, a bunch of nerds hopped up on coffee started making governments more stable, which led to more stable economies. This was the enlightenment. More free time and smarter people led to cool machines like the steam engine, the spinning jenny, and the power loom. These machines sped up production and this led to the Industrial Revolution. The people factories worked long hours because of some protestant work ethic or catholic guilt, and this led to a rise in capitalist ideologies of linking personal worth to productivity and economic output. Hashtag grind, hashtag no days off, hashtag money. Economics boomer and people got rich, and in the 20th century, there was a rise in the U.S. American dream of rags-to-riches stories to further perpetuate productivity. But most industrial jobs were working long hours and often six/seven days a week, and people weren’t too happy with this, so labor movements arose with unions and workers’ rights advocates. There was a global labor movement advocating for “8 hours for work, 8 hours for rest, and 8 hours for recreation,” but a key figure was the original pick-up truck douchebag, Henry Ford. In 1926, he implemented the 9-5 and 5 days a week approach. Like most corporate acts of charity, it was really for selfish reasons: he wanted his workers to be more productive and he thought maybe giving them rest would do that, and he thought giving them leisure time would mean they would buy more his cars, and he finally wanted to shut up those pesky labor movement people. Capitalism at its finest.

Then the war happened, people came back traumatized, and there was a focus on consumerism and using work to buy nice things. The peaceful suburban life made these former soldiers loyal to companies and they defined their new identities as company men. They passed on this norm of work and stability, along with their unresolved war trauma, to their boomer children, who kept the gears of capitalism turning and reaped the benefits of buying houses for like a dollar, pay student debt by washing dishes, and get a job by shaking the hands of a random CEO. But capitalism peaked, then got worse and worse as it entered into its late stages.

Now we have hustle culture amplified by social media. Being more productive means getting ahead, getting more money, and getting head. You need to work beyond your 9-5; you want to break free from the 9-5, then the key is more work. You don’t like your job, work harder and more to get another? Want more free time? Work more to get it. The hustle culture feeds on feelings of jealousy, anxiety, and loneliness by presenting curated feeds that create unrealistic life expectations and FOMO. It deepens polarization and misinformation, pushing users into little bubbles to be radicalized. The addictive design of social media, driven by constant notifications, results in a loss of time and agency, where users consume content out of habit rather than genuine desire. We’re addicted to the idea that more work will make us successful. But all more work has done is made us burnt out, depressed, and anxious…

Then a global pandemic hit. It was scary, especially when everybody was sent home for lockdown and nobody knew what was going on, but it gave every stressed out worker a break from work. It gave them a chance to think about their life, their career, and what they want out of life, which was bad news for the employers who are hoping to keep you so busy and tired that you don’t think about these things. During COVID, in early 2021, people started to voluntarily resign from their jobs, which  Anthony Klotz coined  as the “Great Resignation.” The highest number of resignations came from millennials and Gen Z. It was beautiful, like a good old labor strike, it was a mass protest against burnout and modern work culture.

Unfortunately, the gears of capitalism keep turning. The people who quit  struggled to find better jobs. The boom in automation and AI has led to replacing workers to reduce labor costs. But even after COVID, there was more hybrid work but jobs still sucked. I’m sure social media and modern isolation are huge factors, but the modern work culture does so much to aggravate mental illness. The stress, the lack of time to sleep, exercise, eat right, or see a therapist, the substance use to cope, and the financial pressures of trying to survive on a tiny salary. 

In China, around the time of the Great Resignation and tang ping began in April 2021. It’s a Chinese slang term called “tang ping” or “lying flat”. Tang ping began with  an internet post by Luo Huazhong: essentially quit his dead end job, spent his time cycling, reading philosophy, and doing odd jobs to survive.  China’s work culture is even worse: they have the 996, which is a norm where you work from 9AM to 9PM, 6 days a week–it’s technically illegal, but who’s really scolding companies in China for working too hard? Tang ping means lowering your professional and economic ambitions to just live a simple life to meet essential needs and prioritize psychological health. This inspired another movement in the US: quiet quitting.

Quiet quitting is such an interesting phenomenon. You can’t resign the job because you need money, so maybe the next best thing is to do the bare minimum at the job. No going above and beyond, no volunteering for more work; set your boundaries and just do the minimum to stay employed, then enjoy the rest of your life. Quiet quitting falls under a larger category called “work-to-rule”, which is a kind of strike tactic without actually striking.

The Italians called it, “sciopera biano” or “white strike” where employees do the bare minimum in their contract and be super petty about following rules to waste time. Hot Autumn (1969-1970), or hot Italian boy fall, Italy had factory workers using this tactic and they would insist on wearing full protective gear and conducting every single safety inspection; if you’ve ever worked in a factory, people skip a lot of safety stuff unless it’s really dangerous, because it takes forever if you did everything by the book. They would take breaks and leave their station exactly when their shift ended which caused incomplete products to pile up on the production line. They would make sure every piece of paperwork was perfectly documented and completed at the slowed possible rate to create backlog. They would point out the smallest defects and log minor issues. They weaponized the bureaucracy.

It’s a form of malicious compliance, or complying with order knowing it will have negative results. I personally love hearing these stories, so here are some more. Austrian postal workers normally accept without weighing all items that are obviously not overweight, but, during a dispute, they took every piece of mail, weighed it, and took it back; by the second day, their office was crammed with unweighted mail. French air traffic controllers started filing mandatory weather reports every few minutes, following outdated regulations to the letter; it caused air traffic control systems to be overwhelmed with weather updates, delaying flights, and pilots sarcastically thanked controllers for keeping them “informed about every cloud in the sky.” Postal workers in Canada walked their delivery routes at a literal “walking pace,” sticking to health and safety rules about avoiding running or overexerting themselves. Firefighters protesting budget cuts in the US drove fire trucks to all official duties, including grocery shopping or picking up takeout for the firehouse; they argued that they needed to “always be prepared” in case of an emergency.

Critiques of labor

Why exactly does modern work suck so much? By “work”, I mean the dirty work that we often have to do to trade time for money to survive: the employment, the jobs, the careers, or whatever common sense notion you want to use.

Maybe it’s the working conditions. On the grand scheme, the 9-5 corporate work environment isn’t so bad, right? It’s safer than working in a mine, it’s less physically demanding than a sweatshop, but we said we’re not going to play the game of comparison here because somebody is always going to have it work. Working in a tiny office or cubical for most of the waking day in a chair in front of a computer is not great for your body and mind. Your job also isn’t secure and maybe AI will replace you one day. If you’re a minority group, you’ll probably face discriminations and micro aggressions in the work place. Even if you’re not, you might not have a lot of upward growth unless you switch jobs. You also have to deal with office politics, management, and the constant surveillance and scrutiny.  You also don’t get paid a lot and wages have stagnated for a while.

Let’s focus on the money point for a bit. There’s a term called “wage slavery” which critiques the systemic exploitation inherent in wage-based employment, emphasizing the dependence of workers on wages for survival. You can’t really quit your job or else you’ll be homeless and hungry. It’s not really a fair choice and there’s unequal bargaining power between employers and workers. “Slavery” is a charged word, but it’s been an idea since antiquity; Cicero, for instance, likened wage labor to a form of servitude, emphasizing its restrictive and dehumanizing nature. We’re under the persistent threat of poverty, so we have really little control over our work conditions.

We’re not farmers anymore, the original entrepreneurs, that can grow their own food; we’re dependent on large corporations to give us money to buy food. We have to obey their rules of “professionalism” and obey their schedule and ensure we prioritize their goals over our own families, hobbies, and freedom. Friedrich Nietzsche critiqued the glorification of relentless work for obstructing personal development and reason, and he described work as a mechanism that “keeps everybody in harness and powerfully obstructs the development of reason, of covetousness, of the desire for independence.” I like to sprinkle in Nietzsche to connect with the youth.

Unlike chattel slavery, wage labor offers the illusion of freedom that we choose our employment. But this “freedom” is really picking which master to work for or else we go homeless and hungry.  Frédéric Lordon, in Willing Slaves of Capital,  argues that individuals often internalize organizational goals at the expense of their own desires, effectively surrendering their autonomy to the economic system. This surrender reflects a psychological compartmentalization, where workers become “willing slaves,” aligned with goals not originally their own. We become tools, corporate drones, our work persona takes over.

In Dan Erickson’s Severance, we’re introduced to the employees of Lumon Industries who perform a sci-fi brain procedure called “severance” that divides the employee’s consciousness into two: the innie and the outie. The innie is the employee with all their memories erase, so they have a new person entirely that exists only within the workplace and has no memory of life outside. The outie is the normal person before the procedure that lives life outside and knows nothing about what happens in the job. Every time the outie goes to work, the innie activates in the elevator. It’s a split consciousness: to the innie, life is always work; to the outie, life is outside of work. If you’re somebody like John Locke, who believes your personal identity or what makes you who you are, is tied to your memories, then this procedure essentially makes two people sharing one body.

This show dives into the concept of wage slavery and the innie and outie is a metaphor for the extreme psychological compartmentalization and alienation workers feel in the corporate environment. The innies exist to serve their employers and work all the time, and they’re essentially enslaved by their outies to do so; the innies have no lives, no autonomy, or personal development. The work that they do is also obscure and mundane, and they’re essentially tortured if they are disobedient.

The innies are told they can cancel the procedure if the outie agrees to it. But the choice is illusory. One of the innies tries to do this, but the outie refuses. The outie needs the innie to continue working to ensure that the outies can keep living, succeeding, and coping in the outside world. The innie grows contemptuous of the outie; with no memories of the outside culture of capitalism or the outie’s perspective on prioritizing economic progress, the innie can’t fathom the idea of being subjugated or that anything would be worth giving up freedom and autonomy.

There’s a fragmentation of our identity in the modern corporate workplace. I can’t be myself, I can’t spend time with the people I really want to, and I don’t care about increasing shareholder profit or making the company clients happy. Some workplaces are so awful that I really feel like I need to disassociate myself as soon as I enter work. I have to be this amiable, professional, instrument representing the face of the company, and it’s so far from who I actually am that I have to suppress my actual self for most of my waking life.

Ok, therapy session over. “Upon request, I can also perform a hug.” Maybe it’s not the work conditions that suck, maybe the problem is with the work itself. David Graeber’s Bullshit Jobs: A Theory critically explores the emergence and persistence of seemingly purposeless jobs within contemporary economies. He defines a “bullshit job” as a type of employment so devoid of meaningful contribution that even those performing the job struggle to justify its existence, yet feel compelled to maintain the pretense of its necessity. Graeber identifies five distinct categories of such jobs. The first, “flunkies,” encompasses positions that exist primarily to bolster the appearance of importance for others, such as receptionists with no substantive responsibilities. The second, “goons,” refers to roles that involve aggressive or adversarial functions, such as lobbyists or corporate lawyers, whose work often prioritizes conflict over constructive outcomes. “Duct tapers” are employees who temporarily resolve systemic inefficiencies without addressing their root causes, highlighting the wastefulness of temporary fixes. The fourth category, “box tickers,” includes roles that give the illusion of productivity through meaningless paperwork or reporting. Finally, “taskmasters” are managers whose primary function is overseeing others, often in ways that are unnecessary or counterproductive. Graeber attributes the proliferation of such roles to what he terms “managerial feudalism,” where organizational hierarchies expand not to increase productivity but to bolster power structures. This expansion, he argues, contributes to widespread dissatisfaction and psychological distress among workers who sense the futility of their roles. The psychological toll of performing a job perceived as purposeless includes heightened stress, depression, and alienation, as employees grapple with a lack of fulfillment and autonomy.

Maybe AI will get rid of these bullshit jobs. Or maybe capitalism will get rid of these inefficiencies over time. Or maybe we’re stuck with these bullshit jobs until they’re removed one by one like an appendix. I think the biggest tragedy of these bullshit jobs is that people spend their entire lives working at them without meaning or purpose. What a waste of a life. Even worse are the people who know their jobs are bullshit and have to deal with the existential misery of pushing that boulder up the hill everyday. At least the blissfully ignorant self-important bullshit employee believes they have some purpose. The ones who know better are seriously trapped in an airconditioned, neon lit hell. 

Ok, maybe it’s not the working conditions or the work itself; maybe work in general is just a bad thing for humans. The critique of work as a cultural and economic construct challenges deeply rooted assumptions about its role in human flourishing. In The Right to Be Lazy, Lafargue argues that labor or work is a source of alienation and degradation. Drawing inspiration from ancient Greek ideals, where labor was relegated to slaves while free citizens pursued intellectual and leisurely activities, Lafargue contends that modern workers have been indoctrinated into valuing work at the expense of their well-being. Thinkers in this camp highlight the capacity of work to erode autonomy and joy, advocating for a cultural shift toward pleasure and self-determination over productivity. Conceiving of ourselves primarily as workers leads to a sort of instrumental stance on ourselves and other human agents, in which we come to view ourselves purely as resources for production or sites of consumption. The philosophical roots of this critique stretch back to the Cynics of ancient Greece, with figures like Diogenes of Sinope rejecting societal norms that equated human worth with material achievement or labor.

Bertrand Russell’s In Praise of Idleness argues that societal progress is rooted not in relentless labor but in the cultivation of leisure. Leisure is different from work because you enjoy it for the value it brings to you and not some objective value. You can’t hire somebody to generate that value. You have to be the one to watch the movie, go for a walk, or whatever. The veneration of work has eroded our appreciation of the value of leisure and idleness. The social cachet of work may end up warping our moral relationship to ourselves, treating ourselves not as intrinsically valuable but as mere instruments of production. Russell challenges the moralization of work, arguing that technological advancements could reduce working hours, enabling individuals to pursue leisure and intellectual fulfillment. He suggests that the modern glorification of work enslaves individuals to survival-driven productivity, crowding out opportunities for reflection, innovation, and self-expression. He envisions a society where reduced working hours would eliminate unemployment and enhance collective happiness, allowing people to pursue intellectual and creative pursuits. This perspective reframes idleness as a condition of freedom, integral to the realization of human potential.

This view isn’t popular, especially since “work ethic”, and equating work with moral and social worth, is so ingrained in our historical narrative. Throughout history, those who deviate from traditional employment have faced harsh condemnation. During Nazi Germany, individuals labeled as “work-shy” were persecuted, while in contemporary societies, derogatory labels like “slacker,” “welfare queen,” and “parasite single” reflect anxieties about dependency and productivity. In Japan, for instance, terms like freeter and parasite single signify young adults who resist conventional career paths, revealing the cultural entrenchment of labor as a measure of individual value. Far from promoting stagnation, such critiques advocate a radical reimagining of societal values, prioritizing human flourishing over the relentless demands of productivity. Idleness and leisure are reclaimed as essential conditions for creativity, self-determination, and holistic well-being.

I don’t think work is essentially bad, but, like Bob Black argues, “forced labor” or “compulsory production” is the “source of nearly all misery in the word.” We’re forced to work because we need to in order to not be on the streets. If all our needs were met, we would be going work that helps us thrive: serving the community, helping the young, sick disabled, teaching, giving us purpose… Unfortunately, these jobs are the lowest paid and overworked in society. All the work that puts food on the table and a roof over us takes too much time. And we work too much. 8 hours a day really is like 10-12 with commutes and trying catch up on unpaid domestic work… there’s no time for leisure, sleep, exercise, family, or community life. Work can definitely be a source of a lot of good, just not the kind of work in our society.

I have to add one more critique of work that’s probably the most influential and combines various critiques of work into a unified theory: that’s right… Reddit’s antiwork! No, Marxism or critiques of work under capitalism. Karl Marx, communist extraordinary, critiqued work under capitalism in terms of exploitation, which he views as a structural feature of all class-based societies. But, unlike feudalism or slavery, exploitation under capitalism takes on a particularly disguised and pervasive form. Marx understands exploitation as a systemic process tied to the organization of production, private property, and the wage labor system. He understood value in terms of labor, meaning that the value of a commodity corresponds to the socially necessary labor time required for its production. In a capitalist economy, workers don’t receive the full value of what they produce. Instead, they are compensated with a wage that covers only a portion of their labor’s value, while the remaining surplus value is appropriated by capitalists.

Marx views this arrangement as the defining mechanism of exploitation under capitalism—what he calls the “theft of economic power,” because the capitalist profits from the surplus labor of workers. This process isn’t accidental or just because people are greedy, it’s a feature of capitalism itself. Workers lack ownership of the means of production—factories, tools, machinery, and raw materials—and have to sell their labor power to survive. For example, in a factory setting, workers might produce goods worth $500 per day, but their wages might amount to only $100. The difference, $400, constitutes the surplus value captured by the capitalist. This fundamental asymmetry forces workers to accept the terms offered by capitalists under conditions where the alternatives—unemployment or destitution—are untenable. Thus, while capitalist labor markets appear to operate through free and consensual exchange, Marx insists that the economic compulsion to sell one’s labor renders genuine freedom illusory.

The result is a systemic and disguised form of exploitation that perpetuates inequality and concentrates wealth. Although Marx recognizes that all class societies (e.g., slavery, feudalism) expropriate surplus labor from the working classes, capitalism distinguishes itself by making this exploitation appear voluntary. For instance, a medieval serf might visibly labor under the coercion of a feudal lord, but the capitalist laborer signs a contract that conceals the underlying economic compulsion. This illusion of freedom is perpetuated through ideological mechanisms that normalize wage labor and private property. For instance, the promise of upward mobility and the idealization of meritocracy encourage workers to view their circumstances as a result of individual effort rather than systemic constraints. Additionally, consumerism distracts workers from their exploitation by emphasizing material acquisition as a marker of success. In this way, capitalism masks its inherent inequalities and sustains the illusion of free and fair exchange.

Another central concept is alienation. While exploitation describes the economic process by which capitalists appropriate surplus value, alienation focuses on the social and experiential consequences on the workers. In Marx’s view, alienation under capitalism manifests in four key ways:

(1) Alienation from the product of labor: Workers do not own what they produce. For example, an assembly line worker manufacturing cars will never own or enjoy the fruits of their labor, as the products belong to the capitalist.

(2) Alienation from the act of labor: Work becomes a monotonous means to earn wages, devoid of intrinsic fulfillment. Tasks are often repetitive and deskilled, stifling creativity and self-expression.

(3) Alienation from other workers: Capitalism fosters competition rather than cooperation, pitting workers against one another for jobs or promotions. This dynamic erodes solidarity, preventing collective action.

(4)Alienation from human potential: Repetitive and narrowly defined tasks prevent workers from realizing their intellectual and creative capacities, leaving their broader humanity underdeveloped.

For Marx, this alienation dehumanizes workers, reducing them to instruments of production rather than autonomous beings capable of creative and meaningful work. Alienation thus underscores the broader human cost of capitalist exploitation: not only economic inequality but also the estrangement of individuals from their own potential. Marx emphasizes that although exploitation has existed in various forms throughout history—feudal lords extracting surplus from serfs, slave owners profiting from enslaved labor—capitalism introduces a unique form of “free labor.” Coercion is replaced by economic dependence. Workers appear to have the freedom to choose their employer, but this choice is overshadowed by the reality that they must sell their labor power to survive.

What can we do?

Maybe we can hope it works itself out. AI can take over monotonous, dangerous, or repetitive tasks, complementing rather than replacing human workers. By focusing on areas where human strengths—like emotional intelligence and interpersonal skills—are irreplaceable, AI can create more meaningful work environments. Maybe this will give room for progressive change like the four day work week. Research from organizations adopting shorter workweeks reveals a range of benefits, including increased productivity, better mental health, and enhanced work-life balance. Or maybe universal basic income to provide a guaranteed income to all individuals, so everybody can have financial security. Experiments like Canada’s Mincome project, the Madhya Pradesh study in India, and Namibia’s Basic Income Grant Pilot Project consistently demonstrate that recipients experience improved health, higher educational attainment, and stronger community well-being. But this would upset the corporations, which would upset the billionaires, which would upset the politicians, which means this probably wont happen.

Maybe you really do have to work even harder and win the game of capitalism for financial freedom. The FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) movement aims is to enable individuals to retire significantly earlier than the traditional age, granting the freedom to pursue passions, hobbies, or alternative work arrangements without being tethered to conventional employment. It advocates for the accumulation of wealth through aggressive savings, strategic investments, and frugal living. You can add passive income streams or get a side hustle, you can go back to school for a higher paying job, or maybe move somewhere with a low cost of living. But this takes years of your life and sacrificing so much time; you could do the whole delayed gratification for 10-20 years, reach your FIRE goal, then die the next day. Where else can you get a windfall of money? Marry rich? Play the lottery? Become an entrepreneur?

Maybe you need to get lucky and find a humble job that you like, maybe even work it part time, and live on the border of poverty with general contentment. Or keep the corporate job, look within, keeping pushing the boulder, Sisyphus, and try to be happy. Capitalism and the shape of our work culture is just another absurdity in life and another one of life’s inherent struggles; maybe you just need to derive meaning in the struggle itself and keep pushing.

Maybe this soul sucking aspect of work is why new-aged spirituality is in. Practice mindfulness and gratitude. Or read some Stoicism and roleplay as some ancient Greco-Roman instead of being some nerd in a Patagonia vest. Distinguish what you can and cannot control and have inner tranquility over external circumstances. Then take a Zoloft and go on a bender.

Or find Jesus, you heathen bastards. Again, I blame the stupid Church and their stupid morality of a protestant work ethic and thinking working will make your father love you. Cue Freud. It can definitely soften the drudgery of the corporate world if you think your administrative job is part of some higher calling. If you couldn’t tell from my tone, I don’t agree that the corrupt form of work we find under capitalism is super conducive to Christian spiritual development and I think it actually amplifies vices like envy, pride, greed, and gluttony.

Paul LaFargue wrote, “A strange delusion possesses the working classes of the nations where capitalist civilization holds its sway… This delusion is the love of work… Instead of opposing this mental aberration, the priests, the economists and the moralists have cast a sacred halo over work. Blind and finite men, they have wished to be wiser than their God; weak and contemptible men, they have presumed to rehabilitate what their God had cursed.”

Being a hard worker is considered a virtue in this society. But we should work at being better people, work at loving others, and regularly rest and enjoy life. If you’re sacrificing any of these for more money, social status, or just the inertia of following what our capitalists culture pushes on you, maybe you need to figure out who you are. 

The number one death bed regret is not having the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me. Number two is, I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.

Are comedians modern philosophers?

While traditional philosophers often explore abstract, specialized topics that may feel distant from everyday concerns, comedians engage with broad, fundamental questions in ways that are public, accessible, and often provocative. By examining how comedians mirror the aims and methods of philosophy, we see how they bring complex ideas to life, tackling existence, ethics, and social critique in ways that are both impactful and deeply relevant.

Language is an essential tool for both philosophers and comedians, but each group wields it differently to achieve similar goals. Philosophers rely on precise language, recognizing that meaning often hinges on subtle nuances. Analytic philosophers like Bertrand Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein emphasized clarity to cut through ambiguity, seeing language as a tool for uncovering truth. Comedians, similarly, understand that a joke lives or dies by its wording and timing. Every word, pause, and gesture in a comedy routine serves to heighten impact, stripping away extraneous elements to reveal an underlying truth. George Carlin, for example, dissected language in his routines, exposing absurdities in societal norms and showing how words are manipulated to shape public perception. In this way, comedians, like philosophers, use language to critique, reframe, and reveal contradictions in society.

Much like philosophers, comedians act as “linguistic surgeons,” cutting through layers of language to expose something real about the human condition. Where philosophers may spend pages analyzing concepts like “freedom” or “truth,” comedians may distill these complexities into a single punchline that instantly resonates. Through skillful use of language, comedians offer audiences new perspectives on concepts they may have taken for granted, encouraging the kind of reflection that is central to philosophy.

Both comedians and public philosophers are engaged in public education and discourse. In recent decades, academic philosophy has largely retreated into specialized topics that can feel inaccessible to the broader public. However, philosophy’s roots are deeply entwined with public engagement—Socrates, for instance, debated directly with citizens, making complex questions relevant to everyday life. Modern comedians take on this Socratic role, engaging audiences in a collective exploration of societal issues and ethical dilemmas. By responding to audience reactions in real time, comedians create an immediate feedback loop, refining their material to resonate more effectively—much like philosophers who adjust their arguments based on discourse and critique.

Laughter, in this context, functions as a form of agreement and shared understanding. Just as a philosopher builds consensus around an idea, comedians use laughter as a signal that the audience momentarily shares their perspective. This feedback allows comedians to measure how well their insights land, much like public philosophers who assess audience engagement to gauge how effectively they have conveyed complex ideas. Comedians, therefore, are not just performers but also observers and interpreters of cultural sentiment, refining their material in the same way that philosophers refine arguments to suit the context and understanding of their audience.

Comedy’s unique power lies in its ability to simplify and satirize, allowing comedians to address dense social issues with a levity that philosophy often lacks. Satire, irony, and parody—comedic tools that function much like philosophical thought experiments—create distance from sensitive topics, making it easier for audiences to engage critically. Political satire, for instance, explores issues like inequality, corruption, and freedom through humor. This approach mirrors the goal of public philosophy: making profound ideas accessible and thought-provoking while encouraging reflection on societal norms and injustices.

This ability to provoke without alienating is crucial to both comedy and philosophy. Where philosophers push audiences toward deeper understanding, comedians use laughter as a gateway to critical reflection. By exposing contradictions through humor, comedians encourage audiences to question assumptions in a way that is both palatable and impactful. This balance between engagement and challenge mirrors the role of philosophers—from Socrates to Camus—who have long sought to question prevailing beliefs, often making themselves uncomfortable figures in the process.

At the heart of both comedy and philosophy is a challenge to accepted beliefs and norms. Philosophers question society’s foundational principles, probing morality, justice, and truth. Similarly, comedians use humor to dismantle conventions and expose hypocrisy. This ability to critique society allows comedians to act as cultural commentators, using wit to highlight contradictions in human behavior and societal structures. Figures like Richard Pryor and Chris Rock, for example, have addressed racism, economic inequality, and social justice, forcing audiences to confront uncomfortable truths in ways that resonate deeply.

In this sense, comedians embody a form of applied philosophy. While philosophers theorize about ethical behavior or justice, comedians provide lived examples, drawing from personal and societal experiences to illustrate broader concepts. Grounding abstract ideas in relatable scenarios makes comedy a powerful vehicle for philosophical thought, capable of provoking moral and social inquiry in ways that dense philosophical treatises often cannot.

Comedians engage in a form of philosophical education. While academic philosophy has often become esoteric, focusing on hyper-specialized issues, comedians keep the tradition of public philosophy alive by addressing existential, ethical, and epistemological questions that resonate with broad audiences. Some public philosophers work to bridge complex ideas with public understanding through books, lectures, and media, cultivating a reflective, informed society. One of the most effective public philosophers in this regard is YouTuber and former academic philosopher Natalie Wynn, known as ContraPoints, whose work excels in analysis, creativity, and accessibility.

Comedians are not replacements for philosophers, but they occupy a similar space, bringing philosophical exploration back into the public sphere. Their focus on clarity, precision, and everyday experience allows them to make complex ideas accessible, fostering public reflection on issues that might otherwise go unexamined. Through language, audience engagement, and an unwavering commitment to questioning norms, comedians continue the legacy of challenging assumptions and exposing the absurdities of life. They remind us that philosophy is not just abstract theory—it is a way of questioning, understanding, and engaging with the world around us.

Philosophy of Bo Burnham

Bo Burnham’s comedy uniquely explores contemporary life, merging humor, music, and introspection to confront deep philosophical themes. Unlike traditional stand-up, his work blends theater, music, and poetry, offering a layered critique on identity, mental health, and the digital age. By dissecting his performances, we uncover Burnham’s engagement with philosophical concepts that invite audiences to examine the nature of performance, authenticity, and existence in an increasingly mediated world.

One of Burnham’s defining traits is his use of meta-comedy, turning the spotlight on comedy itself. This reflexive approach aligns with postmodernism, which rejects objective truths and embraces irony, questioning representation. Burnham frequently breaks the fourth wall, reminding audiences of the constructed nature of his performances. In doing so, he critiques the entertainment industry’s demand for polished authenticity, where performers must be both relatable and extraordinary. His emphasis on artifice resonates with Jean Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality, where the line between performance and reality blurs, suggesting that modern life consists of constructed narratives.

Burnham’s work frequently explores authenticity, both personal and artistic. His struggle to reconcile his public persona with his private self aligns with existentialist philosophy, particularly the ideas of Jean-Paul Sartre and Søren Kierkegaard. He embodies the existential conflict of being both creator and product, navigating the pressures of celebrity while striving for individuality. Elements of absurdism pervade his comedy, using surreal skits, abrupt tonal shifts, and narrative subversions to provoke existential contemplation. His work echoes Albert Camus’s notion of the absurd, suggesting that life’s lack of inherent meaning makes the search for purpose distinctly human. Through this lens, Burnham invites audiences to embrace life’s contradictions and unpredictability as fundamental aspects of the human experience.

A recurring theme in Burnham’s work is his critique of technology and its influence on self-perception and mental health. Echoing media theorists like Marshall McLuhan, he examines how digital platforms shape and distort human interaction. McLuhan’s assertion that “the medium is the message” applies well here, as Burnham showcases how social media doesn’t merely facilitate communication but fundamentally alters our perception of reality. He portrays the internet as both an endless source of information and a consuming force that erodes genuine well-being. His commentary on hyper-connectivity highlights how the boundaries between online consumption and reality become indistinguishable, reflecting concerns about the technological sublime—an awe-filled yet unsettling surrender to technology’s dominance in modern life.

Burnham’s openness about anxiety and depression extends beyond self-disclosure, prompting broader reflection on the human search for meaning amid suffering. His work resonates with existentialist ideas, particularly Camus’s argument that life’s absurdity compels individuals to create their own meaning. Burnham’s humor often embodies this existential predicament, where performance serves as both refuge and burden. Across his work, he wrestles with the paradox of seeking connection through performance while feeling fundamentally isolated, echoing existential themes of loneliness and vulnerability. His comedy draws attention to the mental toll of relentless self-performance, offering a lens through which audiences can reflect on the universal need for connection in an increasingly individualistic society.

Irony and satire play central roles in Burnham’s comedic style, entertaining while provoking critical thought. By exaggerating common scenarios and critiquing societal values, he exposes the absurdity of everyday life. His satirical pieces on the commodification of creativity reveal how fame and art are often conflated, reducing genuine expression to marketable content. This critique aligns with Socratic irony and the Frankfurt School’s approach to cultural critique, where irony reveals contradictions and hidden assumptions in social norms.

Burnham also questions the role and responsibility of the artist in society, raising concerns about the ethical demands of entertainment. He stages technical mishaps and scripted audience interactions to highlight the fragility of the performer-audience relationship. Dramatic lighting shifts and intensified sound, followed by self-deprecating humor, emphasize the tension between audience expectations and the performer’s emotional reality. His meta-comedic style critiques the high expectations placed on entertainers, reflecting on how performance often conceals as much as it reveals.

Robert Pickering Burnham, born August 21, 1990, started making YouTube videos at 16, rising to fame through self-produced comedic pieces. By blending humor with existential themes, Burnham challenges audiences to reflect on identity, authenticity, and technology’s impact on human experience. His work is more than comedy—it is an introspective exploration of what it means to exist in a world increasingly shaped by performance.

Philosophy of Roasting

Roasting, a unique comedic art form that sharpens humor through exaggerated critiques, holds a distinct place in the world of comedy. It’s a tightrope act balancing satire and insult, requiring both the roaster and roastee to share an unspoken understanding of the humor’s intent. Beyond entertainment, roasting serves as a vehicle for self-reflection, social commentary, and humility. Exploring its philosophical layers reveals how roasting promotes self-awareness, critiques societal norms, and echoes the role of truth-telling jesters from medieval courts to Shakespearean plays.

Roasting as Self-Examination and Resilience

At its core, roasting is a ritual of self-examination. By embracing public mockery, the roastee confronts their flaws in a setting that emphasizes acceptance and humor. This aligns with the Stoic concept of amor fati—loving one’s fate—which advocates embracing imperfections rather than resisting them. Philosopher Luvell Anderson’s exploration of racial humor highlights how intent and context shape comedic success, particularly in roasting. Mutual consent and an understanding of its performative nature distinguish roasting from mere insult. When done right, roasting creates a temporary “safe space” to challenge power dynamics, poke fun at the powerful, and foster camaraderie.

The ability to laugh at oneself has deep philosophical roots, from Stoicism to Zen Buddhism, both of which encourage breaking down ego and embracing a fluid self-image. Roasting pushes individuals toward humility and resilience, reinforcing the idea that imperfection is universal. Eastern koan practices and Stoic teachings similarly use humor to cultivate empathy and reduce defensiveness. Psychologically, self-deprecating humor offers mental health benefits, helping people frame their flaws in a lighter way and fostering personal growth.

The Jester’s Legacy: Roasting as Truth-Telling

The history of jesters in medieval courts offers a powerful parallel to modern roasting. The “licensed fool” could speak candidly to kings and nobles, offering critiques that would be perilous from anyone else. Shakespeare’s Fools, like King Lear’s Fool and Twelfth Night’s Feste, revealed human weaknesses and societal absurdities through wit, using humor as a mirror to human flaws. These jesters were more than entertainers; they challenged authority and invited audiences to reflect on their values. Similarly, roasting amplifies personality traits and public missteps to highlight deeper truths in a lighthearted, yet thought-provoking way.

Roasting also serves as a form of norm enforcement. It points out social missteps—whether in behavior, pretentiousness, or hypocrisy—and critiques them through humor. The closer a roast is to the truth, the harsher the impact. The stronger the norm violation, the sharper the joke, and the funnier it becomes. Laughter, in this context, acts as a communal response to correcting the misstep. The audience’s reaction reflects a collective agreement, reinforcing social norms while providing a sense of justice through humor.

Modern Roasting and Social Commentary

Today’s roasting culture—whether on Comedy Central or in informal roast battles—continues the jester’s legacy of truth-telling. Roasts of celebrities like Justin Bieber and James Franco don’t just generate laughs; they allow public figures to address perceptions and reclaim their narratives. By owning these critiques, roastees display humility and self-awareness.

Roast comedy also broadens social critique by including voices from diverse backgrounds. Comedians like Dave Chappelle and Ali Wong use roasting techniques to explore issues of race, gender, and culture. This inclusivity deepens roasting’s social impact, making it a platform for tackling challenging topics in a way that encourages both laughter and reflection.

Roasting as a Social and Psychological Tool

From a social perspective, roasting can be therapeutic. Psychologist Rod A. Martin describes affiliative humor—like roasting—as a bonding tool that eases tension and strengthens group cohesion. When done with respect, roasting fosters laughter-filled environments that build rapport and break down barriers. Studies show that self-deprecating humor, in particular, is linked to psychological well-being, as it helps individuals manage stress and challenges.

However, the ethical line between humor and insult is thin. Without mutual consent, roasting can devolve into bullying, making context and respect essential. The best roasters understand this balance, ensuring their jokes land as playful rather than harmful.

The Power of Roasting

When done with mutual respect, roasting transcends comedy to serve as an exercise in humility, truth-telling, and connection. Tracing its roots back to jesters and Shakespeare’s Fools, we see that roasting is more than just entertainment—it fosters self-awareness, challenges social hierarchies, and reminds us of humor’s power to reveal truths. In a world that often prizes self-importance, roasting reminds us to laugh at ourselves and embrace our shared humanity.

The Etymology and Cultural Significance of ‘Amen’

The word “Amen” is ubiquitous across various religious traditions, particularly in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. It signifies affirmation, agreement, and solemnity. Despite its widespread usage, the origins and evolution of “Amen” are rich and complex, spanning multiple cultures and languages. This blog post delves into the etymology, historical context, and contemporary usage of the word “Amen,” tracing its journey from ancient texts to modern-day liturgies.

Let it be done. It is an act of faith to end a prayer and believing it will be heard. That our insignificant words will be relayed to the eternal creator of the universe. That our puny wishes can somehow influence the world or change the divine state of affairs.

Etymological Roots

Hebrew Origins

“Amen” originates from the Hebrew word אָמֵן (‘āmēn), which itself is derived from the root אָמַן (‘āmán), meaning “to confirm,” “to support,” or “to be faithful.” In the Hebrew Bible, “Amen” is used to express solemn ratification of an oath or a statement. It appears in various contexts, including declarations of faith and agreements among people. For example, in Deuteronomy 27:15-26, the Israelites respond with “Amen” to the pronouncements of curses for disobedience, signifying their acknowledgment and acceptance of the terms.

Greek and Latin Adaptations

From Hebrew, “Amen” transitioned into Greek and Latin. The Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, retained the word “Amen” (ἀμήν) without translation, maintaining its original significance. The Latin Vulgate followed suit, using “Amen” (amen) in a similar manner. This transliteration rather than translation highlights the term’s perceived sanctity and the desire to preserve its original connotations.

Other Linguistic Influences

Beyond Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, “Amen” has been adopted into numerous languages, often with slight variations in pronunciation but consistent in meaning. In Arabic, “Amen” (آمِينَ) is frequently used in Islamic prayers, such as at the end of Surah Al-Fatiha during Salah (prayer). Similarly, in Aramaic, a language closely related to Hebrew, “Amen” retains its affirmatory role.

Historical Context and Usage

Biblical Times

In biblical texts, “Amen” serves multiple functions. It appears as a response to blessings, curses, prayers, and prophecies. Its usage in both public and private settings underscores its role in community affirmation and individual devotion. The Psalms, for instance, frequently end with “Amen” (e.g., Psalm 41:13, 72:19), marking a conclusion with a seal of truth and faithfulness.

Early Christianity

Early Christian communities, drawing heavily from Jewish traditions, adopted “Amen” into their liturgical practices. It became a standard conclusion for prayers and hymns. The New Testament features “Amen” extensively, including in the teachings of Jesus. Notably, Jesus often begins his declarations with “Amen, I say to you” (translated as “Truly, I say to you”), underscoring the veracity and importance of his words (e.g., Matthew 5:18).

Medieval and Renaissance Periods

During the Medieval and Renaissance periods, the Church further institutionalized the use of “Amen” in various sacraments and liturgical rites. It became a hallmark of ecclesiastical affirmation, spoken by both clergy and laity. The Gregorian chants, for instance, often concluded with a resonant “Amen,” adding a solemn musical dimension to its usage.

Contemporary Usage

Religious Practices

Today, “Amen” remains integral to religious practices across Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. In Christianity, it is recited at the end of prayers, hymns, and liturgical declarations. In Judaism, “Amen” is similarly used in response to blessings and prayers. Islam incorporates “Amen” at the end of Surah Al-Fatiha and other prayers, reflecting its deep-rooted significance.

Secular Contexts

Interestingly, “Amen” has also found a place in secular contexts. It is used colloquially to express strong agreement or approval. Phrases like “Can I get an Amen?” have permeated popular culture, often used rhetorically to seek affirmation from an audience.

Cultural and Musical Impact

The cultural impact of “Amen” extends into music and the arts. The “Amen Break,” a drum solo from the 1969 song “Amen, Brother” by The Winstons, has been extensively sampled in various music genres, from hip-hop to electronic dance music. This rhythmic snippet, though secular in origin, underscores the versatility and cultural penetration of the word “Amen.”

Conclusion

The word “Amen” encapsulates a profound journey through time, culture, and language. From its Hebrew roots signifying faithfulness and affirmation to its widespread adoption in religious and secular settings, “Amen” continues to resonate with deep spiritual and cultural significance. Its ability to convey solemn agreement and unwavering belief ensures that “Amen” remains a powerful and enduring element of human expression.

We are not alone in this world. That’s the great hope despite all the trials. With the world’s greatest challenges comes an even greater hope. Through this existential lens and as we reflect on our place in eternity, we find ourselves with God.

The Burnout Society (Byung-Chul Han)

In our modern world, we’ve become obsessed with achievement and productivity. Yay, capitalism. We’re constantly chasing success, optimizing our lives, and striving to be our “best selves” with YouTube gurus and high school understandings of Stoicism. However, this relentless pursuit of achievement leads to widespread burnout and depression.

South Korean-born philosopher Byung-Chul Han explores this phenomenon in
“The Burnout Society.” He argues that we’ve transitioned from a “disciplinary society” focused on obedience to an “achievement society” driven by an imperative to succeed. This is a fancy way of disagreeing with a kinky bald French guy who argued that we lived in a disciplinary society of punishing certain behaviors. Han argues that we now live in a society where people internalize the drive to achieve and do their own self-flagellation with Excel sheets. In the past, external forces controlled and constrained us. Now, we’ve internalized those pressures. We’ve become “entrepreneurs of ourselves,” willingly exploiting our own time and energy in the name of productivity. We say “yes” to everything, convinced that nothing is impossible if we just work hard enough.

This mindset leads to what Han calls “compulsive freedom.” This is the self-imposed obligation to maximize our achievements. We’re no longer competing against others, but against ourselves in an endless race of self-optimization. The result? Burnout, depression, and a hollowing out of the self. But also a lot of efficiency, the thriving of capitalism, and great little workers.

Han also notes “hyperattention,” a state more suited to wild animals constantly on alert than to thoughtful human beings. We’ve lost the ability to focus deeply or contemplate, frantically processing a never-ending stream of information. Our attention has become fragmented as we constantly multitask and jump between stimuli. In “Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers: The Acclaimed Guide to Stress, Stress-Related Diseases, and Coping,” Robert Sapolski explains how prolonged stress leads to physical and mental health issues like heart disease and depression, and offers practical advice for managing stress responses.

So how do we resist this culture of burnout? Han suggests we need to rediscover the value of deep attention and contemplation. We should welcome boredom back into our lives, resist constant stimulation, and give our minds space to breathe. This is an old thought from Søren Kierkegaard. Instead of optimizing every moment, we need to make room for leisure and cultivation of the self.

Ultimately, Han argues that our relentless self-exploitation is an attempt to fill an inner void. But hyperactivity and achievement can never truly fill that emptiness. Only by slowing down and rediscovering how to think deeply can we find a more fulfilling way of being. In a world that demands constant activity, choosing to pause, reflect, and sometimes do nothing at all may be our most radical act of resistance against burnout culture. Perhaps it’s time we measure our worth not by what we achieve, but by our capacity for contemplation and our cultivation of a rich inner life. Or not. Whatever.

Risks and Emotional Control: Navigating a Christian Life

Timing matters for all aspects of life. When there is a task to do, you can do it fast or slow, or anything else in the middle. Some things are easy to discern at which timeframe to complete, but others are unclear. Even when it is clear, we should question our timing. There is a time for everything.

To start, there is a temptation that goes along with impatience to speed up the process and do things as fast as possible. We want results. Now. This forgets that some things require more care and attention that comes with slowing down. This is one aspect of the virtue of patience. Sometimes it takes a stronger person to slow down.

On the other end, we cannot be too slow. Life is limited and we cannot take forever. Being risk-averse is too common when we have such comfortable lives. We don’t want to lose what we have. And, more biologically, we don’t want to take risks that will endanger us–that can possibly cost our lives–if there’s a safer alternative. Yet we need to often overcome being overly precautious when the stakes really aren’t too high. It’s like a child in a life jacket that is dipping into the pool for the first time: there’s almost no risk objectively, yet to the child, it appears to be a life-threatening task.

We need to control our emotions. Emotions can be a good motivator to be proactive. As Christians, we have to be actively fighting temptation and constantly trying to move towards God. The safest way to fall into temptation is by inertia: being pushed along this world and slowly being nudged towards sin.  Emotions are also necessary for work and productivity, but they must be harnessed in a nuanced way. We can see the classic example through the arts. Music evokes universal and complex emotions; shows and movies can masterfully draw on universal experiences. The art is communicating just the right things to evoke a connection. It is so hard to communicate feelings earnestly and vulnerably, but it can be so rewarding when it’s done right. For everyone. It can be cathartic for both the artist and the viewer. It’s beautiful.  

There are risks we perceive as disproportionate or superficially prudent, like being scared of social rejection or the negative feelings associated with failure. On the other end, the extreme is being too risky. It’s a failure of prudence to take risks unnecessarily or at a disproportionate cost. The daredevil or thrill-seeker climbing high buildings with no equipment risks their lives with the reward of the thrill of adrenalin. In these areas, we should practice taking calculated risks and sometimes even practice failing to get us to re-assess our risk tolerance. Sometimes we fear from people the simple “No.” We can seek or “go-for-no” to practice.

Finding Purpose in the Daily Grind: A Christian Perspective on Work and Life

As a Christian navigating the professional world, I’ve realized that spiritual growth can occur in any workplace. Our jobs can be tests of character, opportunities for growth, and even spiritual practices. Utilizing our youthful energy, focusing on deep work, and maintaining a proper perspective on work can lead to a fulfilling existence. Reflecting on my struggles and the decision to leave my demanding job, I prioritize health, relationships, and personal interests alongside professional growth. Despite uncertain times, I’m committed to building skills and pursuing new opportunities. Ultimately, work should be about more than just a paycheck – it’s a chance for growth, service, and living out our faith.

Apologetics, Oration, and Aesthetic Appreciation: Christian Skills for Spiritual Enrichment

Christian skills are closely associated with virtue. But Christians have skills that aren’t necessarily Christian skills. For example, Jesus was a carpenter, and while that may serve as a useful metaphor, there is no call for Christians to become better carpenters. However, there might be a call for Christians to acquire skills of reasoning, interpersonal skills, and skills of focus or self-control. It’s difficult to parse these out from virtues because, in some understandings of virtue, they are understood as a skill to be developed. If we understand loving others as a skill, then we might understand the virtue of charity as a skill. I don’t think this is the case. Skills can promote virtues in the way habituation can develop virtues and skills can enable greater virtues. Conceptually, it is easier to think of skills as a neutral device that is necessary for some virtues.

Memorization can be a skill that enables virtue. For instance, memorizing scripture and being able to comprehend it to apply it to relevant circumstances enhances virtues. The ancients used memory as the primary way to relay information and stories. The mind palace or Temple of Loci is an ancient technique to visualize multiple, complicated elements to memorize. Memory is what makes us, and they are so precious. It makes sense why it’s such a valuable skill.

General comprehension can be a skill for apologetics or teaching others. The gift of teaching is the gift of changing people and the way they think. You can radically alter the way they see the world. You give back a little bit of the precious truth you received. It’s important to develop this skill by identifying weaknesses one has and constantly seeking knowledge through the right questions. We have a web of memories, know-how, and experiences. Teaching can also demonstrate mastery; good teaching is mastery of knowledge to the point that it can be broken down and manipulated to be served on a plate to a beginner.

Oration is a skill in itself. Communication is so difficult, especially when it comes to complicated ideas. Oration involves the unique combination of being able to speak on the spot, synthesizing the right words, and translating abstract thought into the correct concrete words. Even more, there is the task of going through this process to end with something persuasive, adding gestures, intonations, and having the right rhythm.

Appreciation of aesthetic experience can be a skill. To enjoy the creation that God has given. I cannot appreciate fine wine and I’m a novice when it comes to appreciating classical music. But I know from my love of food and literature that more experience leads to greater appreciation.

Self-control is a skill. Tolerating discomfort is difficult in an environment where we are spoiled and have our every comfort met. Being calm and composed is easy in a tame and quiet environment. Exercising some semblance of discipline can be easy when we don’t need a lot of discipline to be successful in modern life. Self-mastery is a bit of a lost skill or virtue. Self-control is often understood as a virtue, but it’s such a wide umbrella of skills. Should we let this skill atrophy because we don’t have much adversity? Never. We have to remain sharp and continue to grow in virtue.

Wisdom is a compilation of skills. Philosophy is a love of wisdom. Human wisdom is lost. It claims to be precise, thoughtful, and polished, but we can never attain it. We strive to dig deeply in the wrong spot. However, philosophy can be useful if we are directed by God. Philosophy can help us think about God. Meditating on God and trying to figure out what God is trying to say. We can enjoy what little we know and what wisdom the Lord has given us. We can enjoy a piece of the joy of art and godly happiness. We can develop virtues of patience, diligence, and trust. We can think deeply, read rigorously, and do our best to play with our thoughts. But we need a balance of rigorous structure and creativity. We must consume but also create.

Excellence is context-dependent. For the Christian, it doesn’t necessarily mean beating out the competition in the rat race for our jobs, school, or other life goals. Excellence is a virtue. Excellence and reflecting God’s glory. Excellence is having a proper relationship with God.

God is perfect, but we are far from that. But we can strive for that by striving to be closer to God. We cannot be fooled into thinking that we must be excellent for our own sake or promoting ourselves; all of our excellence is with the aim of serving God. We cannot be drunk with power or self-centeredness once we start to get closer to excellence.

God’s grace is all we can rely on. We can take comfort in the fact that his power is made perfect in our weakness, and we don’t need to strive for perfection other than as an aspiration target. Yet we must still strive for this perfection, especially in the moral domain. But more generally we can strive to be a light in our culture, local community, and personal intellect.

We have to redirect our focus whenever it stops being about Christ. The perspective from which we act must always be focused on the service of the Lord. Not ourselves, not for the approval of anybody else. The excellence we strive for is secondary and prior to our relationship with God, but it flows naturally as well. It is not aimed at for its own sake.

Rigor takes a great deal of discipline. There’s a particular standard and it takes a particular level of conscientiousness to meet it. It takes effort, dedication, and patience. We must strive for rigor in the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These are the aspirational virtues that we work towards. Yet all is at the mercy of God.

We can apply this to our work, virtue, and devotion to others. The efforts we put in and the product of our hands must reflect an earnest work that pleases God. It’s taxing and difficult, but we work hard for God. It’s all we can do.

We have to be careful not to take the standard of rigor to be earthly. We need to focus on the perspective of God. It’s so easy to be swept up by the earth, make comparisons to others, and be influenced by what amounts to earthly failure. Remember, earthly failure can be a godly victory. We must be true to our loyalty.