Burnout

I’m burned out. It took me a long time to realise. And a shorter time to finally admit it. On a public blog too. You might see I have two sections on this blog: culture and programming. Burnout belongs to both. But I need to choose one, and so I chose the programming section. But burnout belongs to both.

I don’t know if you’re supposed to admit you’re burned out in the programming section of your blog. This is supposed to be where my technical analysis, helpful tips, and display of skills lie. A recruiter might read this, after all. And why would you or anyone hire a burnt-out programmer? Well, recruiter, not only am I burnt out, but I am good at my job. Excellent, in fact. For if I wasn’t excellent, why would I be burnt out?

I used to think burnout was overwork. According to WebMD, it is something more. Reading about burnout greatly bores me. Articles like that describe the symptoms in precise but sterile detail. I am like Alice, wondering, what is the use of a book without pictures or conversations? Burnout is not a mental illness either, so it doesn’t carry the artistic veneer of depression or the thrill of bipolar disorder. But it is a thing that happens. So much so, that more people are now talking and writing about burnout today than ever. This is good. But also bad.

For me, burnout looks like endless cynicism. I won’t point any fingers, but cynicism runs in my family. So I am predisposed. The burnout makes it worse. And not only is it cynical, it’s existential. Not only do I have, my career is going nowhere, but also, humanity is going nowhere. The latter is a popular sentiment nowadays. Oh, you’re so deep Maté, your burnout is a special concern for humanity. I know, take a number. At least I am not alone.

When I first started at university I was wondering, what problems will I solve? After all, software can. Ten years on, and I see the problems the digital world has wrought. The mobile phone addiction. The political discourse. The inexorable power of technology giants. The cloud colonisation of our personal lives. The general feeling that the kids are going to be fucked by all this change. Software can, but sometimes, software shouldn’t. Maybe I am part of the problem, after all.

Byung-Chul Han captured the problems of our burnout society in his book, The Burnout Society. I am still waiting for my copy of The Burnout Society to arrive from Auckland City Libraries. I requested the book a month ago, but I am seventh in the holds queue. Six people needed it before me. Luckily, it is a well-discussed book online and I found a good summary.

Han offers a treat-bag of interesting concepts and diagnoses, one of them being the achievement society. Yes, the society we live in. In sum, the teacher today doesn’t punish us for not reciting our times tables correctly. She encourages us that we can do our six times tables. In fact, you can do all of your times tables if you set your mind to it! Don’t you want to succeed? That can replaces should and must. It might sound nice and positive, but achievement society tells us everything is possible; we are hard on ourselves for can’t. A-tishoo, a-tishoo, we all fall down.

The programmer is almost an ideal achievement subject. This being one who is subject to the achievement society. The computer, as the ultimate can-do tool, has limitless power. A bicycle for the mind, as made eloquent by the great Steve Jobs. And we look up to other greats: Gates, Zuckerberg, Knuth, and the rest, all prodigies in the programming field. All achieved greatness. All with one machine that easily and mechanically amplifies and replicates greatness. You too can work like a billionaire.

The programmer is subject to all kinds of pressure to develop side projects, keep up with the latest trends, and excel in his or her field. This you must do, not to ascend to The Greats, but to not be left behind. This ideology silently permeates the field. Programming is accessible and interesting, but full of geniuses you must compete with. You should enjoy your own exploitation. Contrast programming with medicine — another competitive field that requires an acute level of ability. Being a doctor is not a hobby.

The competitiveness got me. The pressure to achieve got me. The rapid pace of change got me. But they’re not what’s real. I am real. Now I am getting real with myself. I am not a problem to be solved. I am not a project either. Being part of achievement society means you place your self-worth in tangible, rankable activities. Achievement is difficult. Stepping out of it — and seeing yourself for who you are — is even harder.

I’m burned out. I’m glad I realised. I’m glad I admitted it — on a public blog too. Our culture, with its pressure to achieve, burns us out. For programmers, burnout is almost coded into the system. For me, it took time to realise, and it will take work to heal. The word burnout is widely known nowadays, yet we still don’t have a word for the opposite. Burning is irreversible, after all. But it is just a word. And I am a man. Whatever work it takes, I know I will light the flame again.