Why We’re All Burning Out | Byung-Chul Han’s Warning to the World

Aren’t we living in the best age ever! ? I mean,  look at the world around us!

Modern society grants us endless possibilities. Contrary  to our grandparents (and their parents), who were told to just pray to God, have kids, work  in the factory, and shut up, we, the children of modernity and neoliberalism, can become anything  we want! We can become CEOs of our own startups, hustlers, innovators, YouTube stars, Instagram  models, you name it!

You only have to work hard and live on rice and beans for five years,  and you’ll get there! And, yes, of course, this applies to everyone! So, get off your lazy ass,  start grinding, listen to Gary Vee, and you’ll be among the rich and successful in no time.

Because  hey, you don’t want to be a loser, do you? No, of course not! So, what are you waiting for? 

Get your Grindset on, and start crushing it! Beneath this shiny surface of boundless  opportunity, there’s, unfortunately, a darker side. South Korean-born German philosopher  Byung-Chul Han is concerned that our capitalist society is increasingly leading humanity toward  collective burnout and many other problems, such as narcissism and hyperattention.

His  book The Burnout Society explains the effects of today’s achievement society and why people are  more exhausted and disconnected than ever before. This video explores Byung-Chul Han’s  warning to the world: The Burnout Society. If you want to help keep this channel going, become a Patreon supporter.

You’ll get  access to ALL Einzelgänger videos ad-free. Byung-Chul Han noticed a significant shift in  what motivates us, particularly in the contexts of work, self-improvement, and social interactions.  In the past, it was the case that mainly external control, such as punishment and strict rules,  dictated people’s behavior.

But times have changed. Instead of external forces imposing our  actions and goals on us, we are now internally motivated. It’s not about obedience to some  authority anymore while serving the greater good; it’s about taking leadership over our own  lives to achieve, self-optimize, and excel.

Han’s book thoroughly examines our shift from a  disciplinary society to an achievement society. He mentions the world described by philosopher  Michel Foucault: a place of hospitals, psychiatric facilities, prisons, barracks, and factories,  which we replaced with fitness centers, office towers, airports, banks, and shopping malls. At  first sight, a rather grim, authoritarian society based on punishment and obedience, characterized  by rules and restrictions, has upgraded into this liberated, sparkling society characterized by  freedom and opportunity.

Western capitalist neoliberalism is where it’s at, people. It’s the  realm of “unlimited can,” as Han puts it. Here, we can become the best versions of ourselves.

Isn’t it great to have all this freedom, all these resources and opportunities, all these  directions we can take our lives toward? I mean, take our poor ancestors from the Industrial  Age, for example; they could only have dreamt of having the opportunity to climb the corporate  ladder, being able to choose between twelve types of SpongeBob toothpaste and travel the world,  scavenging tourist trap after tourist trap, gathering Instagram selfies with some vague  resemblance of the Taj Mahal in the background to keep up with the Joneses on social media. The insidious thing about the achievement society is that, as members of it, we think we’re  free, but, as Han makes clear, we’re not.

The achievement society also has its confinements,  but they’re so hidden and paradoxical that most people don’t even realize it. The real Matrix is  today’s society, a celebrated illusion of freedom and boundless opportunity, which, in reality, is  one of the most ingenious prisons ever created. And the ‘freedom’ we fight for (and some are even  willing to die for) is illusory.

We’re not free. One of the fundamental differences between  disciplinary and achievement societies is what Han called the “negativity of Should”  versus the “positivity of Can. ” In the case of ‘Should,’ there’s an external force telling us  what to do, laying restrictions upon us, imposing rules.

We can see the tyranny of ‘Should’ as a  metaphorical (or literal) slavemaster whipping his servants into submission, forcing them to  work. Take, for example, a guy named Kim Jong-Un, who, just like his predecessors, puts people  into prison camps, forcing them into labor, which, in turn, fuels the country’s economy. The slavemaster approach works to a certain extent.

As long as you keep forcing people,  punishing and threatening, they will (the majority at least) do what they’re told. However,  this method also comes with many obstacles: first of all, it takes a lot of staffing  and effort to force a significant portion of the population to work and keep everyone in  line. And what about human rights?

Generally, people don’t like to be forced and oppressed,  let alone tortured. So, there’s always a risk of riots and other forms of social unrest. In  short, the tyranny of ‘Should’ is quite a hassle.

Han observed that the ‘Can’  approach is more effective. I quote: The positivity of Can is much more efficient  than the negativity of Should. Therefore, the social unconscious switches from  Should to Can.

The achievement-subject is faster and more productive  than the obedience-subject. End quote. An essential difference between ‘Should’ and ‘Can’ is that  the latter involves an internal motivator.

Han describes this as “carrying a work camp inside. ”  We have become our own masters. Instead of being put into prison camps where a bunch of sadistic  guards force us to work, we embody the camp as we push ourselves to work; we’re both the guard  and the prisoner.

Intrinsic motivation is more effective than extrinsic motivation. But, we  could ask, where does this intrinsic motivation come from? And why do these internal labor camps,  so to speak, eventually lead to massive burnout?

The idea of freedom to do anything, to be anything  you want – rich, famous, successful – sounds enthralling. The world has become our playing  field, an extensive realm of endless opportunity where all our dreams come true. We’re not too  concerned anymore with getting our basic needs met or enduring at the hands of oppression: we’re  all about self-optimizing, crafting our authentic lifestyles, and becoming the best version of  ourselves.

Self-improvement and self-development aren’t bad per se, but we could also overdo it.  The problem with the achievement society is that its members tend to be internally motivated to  stretch themselves beyond their means (14). The constant grinding and leveling up lead to  this profound exhaustion called burnout (15).

Han speaks of the tyranny of positivity.  Let’s briefly explore the dichotomy of positivity and negativity Han presents in his  book. In this case, positivity refers to our actions toward achievement, self-optimization,  pursuit of goals, and endless possibilities: the “unlimited can.

” Negativity relates to  rules, restrictions, constraints, and boundaries, but also things like boredom, waiting, and  reflection. Negativity is what stops us from the pursuit of achievement and self-optimization. The achievement subject is a freak of positivity.

We all know these overly motivated people  who are always “on:” They jump out of bed, take their latte enema, appear at work on Monday  morning full of pep, and just go-go-go throughout the whole week, grinding, trying to better  themselves and those around them, always thinking in opportunities, growth, improvement,  upgrading performances. We celebrate these people; companies love them. They’re the role models  of the achievement society.

But they’re also exhausting to be around, aren’t they? And they  generally disdain stuff like ‘breaks,’ ‘pauses,’ ‘leisure,’ and other forms of downtime, unless  it’s a teambuilding session or a surprise business meeting during a company trip. Why have we evolved  into people who just don’t know how to stop?

We may seem free subjects in the achievement  society, but we haven’t revoked the ‘Should’ aspect. ‘Should’ is still there but in a different  form. According to Han, the new commandment of late-modern labor society is the “imperative to  achieve.

” It’s not just that we have the freedom to achieve; achievement is expected, just as  the disciplinary society expects obedience. Not performing in the achievement society  is not without consequences, as Han stated: Disciplinary society is still governed  by no. Its negativity produces madmen and criminals.

In contrast, achievement  society creates depressives and losers. End quote. It’s the pressure to achieve that causes depression, according to Han. 

We constantly apply this pressure to ourselves, leading to self-exploitation and setting often  unrealistic, high expectations for ourselves, which usually leads to a profound discrepancy  between where we believe we should stand and where we actually stand. The latter is  always lacking due to the ever-shifting goalposts. “The exploiter is simultaneously  the exploited.

Perpetrator and victim can no longer be distinguished,” argues Han. The  achievement society shows that exploitation without domination is possible and even  more potent, as, so it seems, we are our own worst masters. But this auto-exploitation  eventually exhausts us, leading to burnout, the precursor to depression.

I quote: Depression—which often culminates  in burnout—follows from overexcited, overdriven, excessive self-reference that has  assumed destructive traits. The exhausted, depressive achievement-subject grinds itself down,  so to speak. It is tired, exhausted by itself, and at war with itself.

Entirely incapable of  stepping outward, of standing outside itself, of relying on the Other, on the world, it  locks its jaws on itself; paradoxically, this leads the self to hollow and empty out. It  wears out in a rat race it runs against itself. End quote.

Han calls the achievement subject a modern ‘animal laborans’ who exploits itself to exhaustion and  does so voluntarily, without external constraints. He is both predator and prey. The subject’s  failure to attain the ideal image leads to auto-aggression.

Being beaten by a prisonguard has  been replaced by beating oneself up in the form of bizarre, self-imposed demands, restrictions,  self-scolding, and self-inflicted stress. What makes matters worse is the role of digital  technology in perpetuating the excess positivity it exposes us to, which also comes as an excess of  stimuli, information, and impulses. Our attention has become fragmented.

We have become incapable  of deep contemplation and creative processes that require profound attention. Instead, we developed  hyperattention, a scattered form of attention that allows us to superficially focus on many things  simultaneously (or shortly after another) but not profoundly on one thing, which is required  to produce something new and original. All the great works of art, literature, and inventions  have been products of someone deeply focusing on something.

However, the overstimulated  environment of modern-day achievement society doesn’t allow its subjects to do so, as it demands  laborers, grinding repetitive tasks, and doing stuff that only requires superficial attention  in exchange for fancy job titles on LinkedIn. We have become a species of multitaskers.  And we’re proud to be so.

These days, when scrolling through vacancies on whatever website,  I see many job descriptions containing a list of responsibilities: being a sparring partner, doing  administrative tasks, advising project leaders, being part of the board, visiting clients,  communicating with other departments, and, of course, your actual task, which is leading  a team… all of this in one job. Also, companies often require you to actively participate in a  personal development plan as if just doing your job isn’t enough. Sure, the multitasker they seek  is functional and useful in terms of productivity, but does this individual actually create something  profound, something of substance?

In most cases, not really. “It reproduces and accelerates  what is already available,” says Han. The multitasker, the hyperattentive, hyperflexible  being, is suited to run the corporate rat race.

He is always too busy; his attention is scattered;  he’s always on the move, always in a rush, switching between this and that, and has no  time for the profound idleness that benefits creativity. Add to this the interruptions by our  smartphones: notifications from social media, mailboxes, WhatsApp, Telegram, Snapchat…  and we find that the noisy world around us constantly hijacks our attention. According to Han, this hyperattention isn’t progress and we have actually regressed into  animalistic behavior.

Animals are multitaskers, too. In the wild, an animal must eat, watch  its young, and keep an eye on its sexual partner while being vigilant of environmental  dangers. The capability of contemplation is a uniquely human skill that we’ve squandered  for the sake of repetitive, superficial self-exploitation and exposure to hyper stimuli. 

And we’re paying the price for it. Han states: Recent social developments and the  structural change of wakefulness are bringing human society deeper and  deeper into the wilderness. For example, bullying has achieved pandemic dimensions.

Concern  for the good life, which also includes life as a member of the community, is yielding more  and more to the simple concern for survival. According to Han, we have become entrepreneurs  of ourselves: highly individualistic achievement subjects with egos ready to burst, suffering  the ongoing pressure to accomplish. And we’re quite narcissistic, too.

Focusing almost  entirely on ourselves, we swing between self-absorption and self-obsession. Across the board, friendships and many other connections with the community have lost  meaning and lack profundity. Relationships are fleeting and transactional.

Serial  monogamy has become the norm. “In social networks, the function of “friends”  is primarily to heighten narcissism by granting attention, as consumers, to the ego  exhibited as a commodity,” states Han It’s all about me-me-me. The achievement  subject doesn’t contribute to a greater cause.

The greater cause is synonymous with the  project we call ‘me,’ an unending pursuit driven by societal expectations, leading to exhaustion,  burnout, mental illness, and, in the worst case, self-destruction. Now, is there anything we can do  to shield ourselves from the achievement society? Byung-Chul Han’s book isn’t a self-help book. 

It doesn’t provide a practical step-by-step guide for getting out of the rat race or  combating burnout. But it does contain ideas that counterweight our debilitating  lifestyles, burdened by excess positivity, which we could describe as incorporating more  negativity in our lives. I’d say (although overly simplified): Let’s all just take a freaking  break, not just from work, but also from the hyper stimuli that destroy our attention spans  and the many societal expectations that turn us into self-punishing labor camps.

Han speaks of  ‘vita contemplativa,’ the contemplative life, which he regards as resistance to copious amounts  of intrusive stimuli: it’s an active process of protecting our minds from excess positivity. When someone takes a break these days, it’s often something like binge-watching a series  on Netflix while checking one’s phone, with music in the background. This isn’t a break; it’s more  like keeping the neurotic mind occupied because it cannot endure boredom.

A proper break is an active  process, actively fending off all these stimuli to experience a state of ‘being’ instead of ‘doing. ’  Contemplation concerns itself with the world as it is, not with achieving, self-optimizing,  and the like. But to experience ‘being,’ we must set boundaries that keep positivity from  creeping in.

Han also considers things like waiting and boredom forms of negativity. Near the end of the book, Han states: The capitalist economy absolutizes survival. It is  not concerned with the good life.

It is sustained by the illusion that more capital produces more  life, which means a greater capacity for living. End quote. Han writes that the capitalist economy takes livingness out of life,  which is much more complex than mere vitality and health.

We’ve been reduced to our vital functions  and capacities, and we seek to maximize these by any means. Hence, the mania around health arose. After life has been stripped of all meaningful narratives and values, health is what remains,  according to Han.

He calls health the “new goddess. ” And let’s face it. These days, we  reduce virtue to the size of one’s bicep; we reduce meaning to consuming 1.

5 grams of  protein per kilogram of lean body mass. We don’t worship any deity or higher ideal;  we worship some woman’s butt on TikTok. We worship the body.

We devoutly keep it healthy  (and aesthetically pleasing). But it’s an empty way of living, focussing only on a fragment  of what it means to be human, and it often manifests as a self-obsessed, egoic activity. Isn’t it ironic that people so religiously focus on health while, at the same time,  their lives amount to nothing profound?

Why are we trying so hard to survive in this  achievement society when we’re too dead to live? Thank you for watching.