Michelle: The advice 'follow your passion' might be the most dangerous career advice you'll ever receive. It's a blueprint for burnout, a trap that convinces you to trade your well-being for a job title, and today we’re going to dismantle it. Mark: Whoa, that's fighting words. That phrase is on every motivational poster in every co-working space from here to Silicon Valley. Are you telling me my dream board is a lie? Michelle: It might be! Or at least, it's missing the fine print. We're diving into a book that brilliantly exposes this myth: The Good Enough Job: Reclaiming Life from Work by Simone Stolzoff. Mark: Simone Stolzoff. And what’s fascinating about him, and what gives this book so much credibility, is his background. He wasn't some academic in an ivory tower; he was a design lead at IDEO. Michelle: Exactly! IDEO is this legendary global innovation firm, the pinnacle of the "cool," creative, passion-fueled workplace. So when someone from the inside of that world steps back and says, "Hey, maybe this whole thing is broken," you really have to listen. Mark: It’s like the high priest of the cool kids' table telling you the party is actually kind of a bummer. So what’s his big argument? Michelle: His core idea is that our modern obsession with work—the belief that our job should be our calling, our identity, and our community all rolled into one—is a relatively new, and ultimately toxic, invention.

Michelle: Let me ask you a question, Mark. The one you get at every party, every networking event, every first date. What do you do? Mark: Ugh, the question. I feel my anxiety spike just hearing it. You feel this pressure to have an impressive, concise, and meaningful answer. "I'm a podcast host" sounds okay, but there's always that internal monologue of "Is that good enough?" Michelle: Right! And Stolzoff argues that this question has become a stand-in for "Who are you?" Our work has become our primary identity. He uses a term coined by journalist Derek Thompson: "workism." It’s the belief that work is not just a way to make a living, but the centerpiece of a well-lived life. It’s our new religion, and our desks have become our altars. Mark: Our desks as altars. That's a powerful image. It feels true. You see people sacrificing their health, their relationships, their weekends… all for the job. Michelle: To illustrate how warped our perspective has become, Stolzoff retells that classic parable of the Fisherman and the Businessman. Have you heard it? Mark: I think so, but refresh my memory. Michelle: An American investment banker is on vacation in a small coastal village. He sees a local fisherman pull in a small boat with a few large fish. The banker is impressed and asks how long it took. "Only a little while," the fisherman says. The banker then asks why he doesn't stay out longer and catch more fish. Mark: Let me guess, the fisherman says he has enough. Michelle: Exactly. He says he sleeps late, fishes a little, plays with his children, takes a siesta with his wife, and strolls into the village each evening to sip wine and play guitar with his friends. He has a full and busy life. Mark: And the banker, of course, can't compute this. Michelle: Not at all. The banker, horrified by this lack of ambition, launches into a business plan. He tells the fisherman he should fish longer, buy a bigger boat, then a fleet of boats, open his own cannery, control the product, processing, and distribution. Eventually, he'd move to a big city, then expand internationally and take the company public. Mark: And the fisherman just asks, "And then what?" Michelle: After every single step. "And then what?" Finally, the exasperated banker says, "Then, you would retire! You’d move to a small coastal fishing village where you’d sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take a siesta with your wife, and stroll into the village in the evenings to sip wine and play guitar with your friends." Mark: Oh, the irony is just crushing. He’s describing the life the fisherman already has. We work ourselves to death for a prize we could have just taken from the start. Michelle: That’s the core of workism. And it's not just a feeling; the data backs it up. A Pew Research study mentioned in the book found that Americans were nearly twice as likely to say their career brought them meaning as they were to name their spouse. Work ranked higher than faith, friends, and family. Mark: Wow. Higher than your spouse? That’s a heavy statistic. It really shows how our priorities have been rewired. Michelle: Completely. And it’s a uniquely American problem. Stolzoff points out that in 1975, Americans and Germans worked the same number of hours. Today, Americans work over 30% more. We’ve been sold a bill of goods that more work, more ambition, more hustle, will lead to a better life. The parable shows it often just leads you back to where you started, only much, much later and far more exhausted.

Mark: Okay, so we're worshipping at the altar of work. But I think a big reason for that is the cultural narrative we're fed from day one: "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." We're all supposed to be on this epic quest for the "dream job." Michelle: Exactly. And the book argues that this "dream" can very quickly become a nightmare. Stolzoff tells the story of a woman named Fobazi Ettarh, and it is absolutely heartbreaking. Mark: What happened to her? Michelle: Fobazi grew up as a queer teen in New Jersey, and she found refuge in her high school library. The librarians there helped her find books with characters like her, and it made her feel seen for the first time. It was a profound experience, and it gave her a mission: she wanted to become a librarian to provide that same sanctuary for other kids. That was her dream job. Mark: That sounds like such a pure, noble motivation. A true calling. Michelle: It was. She went to college, got her master's in library science, and entered the field. But the reality was a brutal shock. She found a profession that, despite its mission of being "open to all," was rife with low pay, a shocking lack of diversity, and subtle but persistent discrimination. Mark: That’s awful. So the institution didn't live up to its own ideals. Michelle: Not even close. The breaking point came at a conference where a panelist described librarianship as a "sacred duty." And Fobazi had this epiphany. She realized the industry was using the nobility of the mission as a weapon against its own workers. It was an excuse for low wages, poor conditions, and a refusal to address systemic problems. Mark: Because how can you complain about your salary when you're performing a "sacred duty"? Michelle: Precisely. Fobazi coined a brilliant term for this phenomenon: "vocational awe." It's the belief that some professions—like librarians, teachers, nurses, non-profit workers—are so inherently good and morally righteous that they are beyond critique. This awe becomes a tool of exploitation. Mark: Vocational awe. I love that term because it perfectly captures the dynamic. It's this halo effect that blinds us to the reality of the labor. You're not just a worker; you're an angel, and angels don't need fair pay or overtime, right? They run on passion. Michelle: And that passion is weaponized. The book quotes Anne Helen Petersen, who says, "By cloaking the labor in the language of ‘passion,’ we’re prevented from thinking of what we do as what it is: a job." Fobazi eventually quit her librarian job, completely disillusioned. Mark: Now that you mention it, this whole conversation feels like it could be a bit of a luxury. For many people, a job isn't about finding a calling; it's about paying rent and putting food on the table. Does the book address that? Michelle: It does, and that’s a really important critique that has been leveled against some of these work-life balance discussions. Stolzoff is clear that the pressure to find a "dream job" is often a burden of the privileged. He interviews a cook who says, "People who love what they do, those people are blessed, man. I just work to get by." The book acknowledges that for a huge portion of the population, work is simply an economic necessity. The "passion" mandate is often a problem for a specific class of knowledge workers, but the underlying issue of exploitation affects everyone.

Mark: Okay, so I'm convinced. Workism is a sickness, and the dream job is a trap. But what's the alternative? Are we all supposed to just get boring, soul-crushing jobs and be miserable cogs in a machine? Michelle: Not at all! And this is where the book offers a really hopeful and powerful alternative. The antidote isn't a bad job; it's a "good enough" job. Mark: "Good enough." That sounds like settling. It sounds like giving up. Michelle: See, that’s our workist programming talking! Stolzoff borrows the concept from the psychologist Donald Winnicott, who talked about the "good enough mother." A perfect mother is an impossible, and frankly, undesirable standard. A good enough mother provides safety, love, and support, allowing a child to grow into an independent person. A good enough job does the same for your life. Mark: Okay, I'm intrigued. Unpack that. What does a good enough job look like? Michelle: It's a job that you don't have to love, but that you don't hate. It pays the bills. It respects your time. And most importantly, it leaves you with the energy and freedom to build a full, meaningful life outside of work. It's a stable foundation, not the entire cathedral of your identity. Mark: So it's about putting the job back in its proper place. It serves your life; your life doesn't serve it. Michelle: Exactly. And the story that drives this home is about a chef named Divya Singh. She was the classic workist. She went to a top culinary school, landed a prestigious internship, and partnered with her famous mentor to launch a food brand called Prameer. Her entire identity, her self-worth, was wrapped up in being a successful chef and entrepreneur. Mark: I can see where this is going. Michelle: The business was a huge success, but her partner and mentor grew controlling. He started undermining her, and in a final, brutal betrayal, he restructured the company and zeroed out her 50% ownership stake. Just like that, her entire identity was erased. Mark: That's devastating. To have your life's work stolen from you by someone you trusted. Michelle: She was completely lost. She said, "I don't know who I am without this." But after the legal battle, she took time off. She didn't jump into a new venture. Instead, she started rediscovering the other parts of herself she had neglected. She reconnected with friends, spent time with family, picked up hobbies. She started building other pillars for her identity. Mark: It’s like diversifying your identity portfolio. You'd never put all your money into one single, volatile stock. So why would you put 100% of your self-worth into one single, volatile job? Michelle: That is the perfect analogy! And that's exactly what she learned. When she eventually co-founded a new company, her entire mindset had shifted. She said—and this quote is so powerful—"I know my price. Because I developed my identity outside of work, there’s a cost that if work cuts into it—if it ever costs me a larger part of my identity and my life—I know it’s not worth it." Mark: Wow. That's real power. It's not about the job title or the money. It's about knowing your own value, independent of your work. She's no longer defined by her job, so she can't be destroyed by it. Michelle: That is the essence of the good enough job. It’s a job that allows you to be the person you want to be, both on and off the clock.

Michelle: So, when you pull it all together, the book's message isn't about lowering your standards or becoming complacent. It’s a radical act of re-prioritization. It’s about dethroning work from the center of your life and putting your life back in the center. Mark: It’s a shift from asking "What do I want to do?" to asking "How do I want to live?" The job becomes a tool to build that life, rather than the life itself. It’s moving from "I am a [Job Title]" to "I am a person who does [Job Title], among many, many other things." Michelle: Beautifully put. It’s about having a rich, complex, and resilient sense of self that can withstand the inevitable ups and downs of any career. Your job can be taken away, but your identity as a friend, a parent, a painter, a hiker, a curious human—that's much harder to lose. Mark: This has been incredibly insightful. So for everyone listening who feels that pressure, who's tired of the hustle, what's one thing we can do, right now, to start applying this idea? Michelle: Stolzoff offers a simple but profound challenge. Ask yourself this question: What can you do this week to remind yourself that you exist on this earth to do more than produce economic value? Mark: I love that. It’s not about quitting your job tomorrow. It’s about a small, intentional act. Michelle: Exactly. Maybe it’s finally signing up for that pottery class. Maybe it’s just leaving work on time, without guilt, to have dinner with your family. Or maybe it's just taking a 20-minute walk in the middle of the day, without your phone, just to be a person in the world. Mark: It’s about actively cultivating your non-work self. I'd actually love to hear what our listeners do. Let us know what your 'non-work self' is up to. Find us on our socials and share one thing you're doing this week that has nothing to do with your job. Michelle: A wonderful idea. It’s a reminder that a good enough job is one that makes room for the rest of you. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.