How Hard Should I Work?

I’m shamelessly ripping off Inkhaven and doing my own challenge, Egghaven. This is the tenth post.

I’m in a very fortunate position to have a high-earning career. If we temporarily set aside considerations about AI radically altering the job market, I have several options available to me with regard to how hard I might like to work. I could work not-so-hard and still be able to make a decent amount of money, and generally focus my time and energy on pursuits outside my career. I could make my career my top priority and devote the majority of my efforts towards it, pulling 70-hour weeks or more, doing something that might (have the potential to) earn a very large amount of money. Or, of course, somewhere in between the two options, with some trade-off between the pros and cons of each.

The case for not working so hard is that life is short and unpredictable. Were I to find out tomorrow that I had some terminal illness, I might regret having invested so much time in accruing “career capital” which will never pay off. Working is generally stressful, and in my experience, it has been rarely intrinsically rewarding (I am aware that this is likely a skill issue). There is a lot of external pressure to work harder, but this is largely because other people will benefit from my efforts more than I will. If I have enough money to cover necessities, I could devote greater effort to my relationships, hobbies and spiritual life, all of which would provide better ROI than marginal work would.

The case for working hard is a little more complex. One case for working hard might be that marginal additional money/status/career capital/impact/whatever is good, it helps me build optionality, and I’m still in the phase of my life and career where I ought to be doing that.

Another reason might be that it is virtuous, especially when the work is done primarily in service of others. The case here might be pretty strong; perhaps I decide I want to start a new organisation that will do a lot of good in the world. Organisations are fragile in their infancy, and their chances of survival scale greatly with the efficacy of their founders. One simple, if imperfect, way of increasing my output as a founder would be to work more hours.

Some might go so far as to say hard work is inherently virtuous. One rational part of me agrees with Neel Nanda that trying hard is a means to an end, but, unfortunately, a different maladaptive part believes that work is good, regardless of the outcomes it produces. If I’m not working, then I must be lazy, and laziness is deplorable. Unhelpfully, work can trigger other maladaptive patterns in me; for example, it is a very convenient avoidant technique. Nobody ever says, “hey Jonny, you need to work less hard and spend more time on your personal problems instead”.¹ And so I can happily continue to not attend to my emotional/spiritual dysfunction as long as my nose is to the grindstone.

Historically, a lot of the hard work I’ve done has been by burning dirty fuel. It’s been motivated by fear of inadequacy, and it turns out that will get you surprisingly far. But it’s not enjoyable, and ironically enough, I don’t think it gives you the best results.

I want to want to work hard [sic]. I think a lot of what makes a life worth living is on the other side of great toil. Despite this, I want to find different motivations going forward. I want to be running toward something great, rather than running away from something terrible. I want to burn clean fuel. The thing is, I have no idea how to get into this mindset; it’s totally unfamiliar to me. What is the solution here? Beginning each day with positive affirmations and 15 minutes of visualising my goal? Taking a break from work to fully heal all my emotional wounds before returning to labour fresh and new? Finding an appropriate vice to self-medicate with and just accepting that all the greats get it done with their demons by their sides?

I don’t know, but suggestions are welcome.