DISCLAIMER: By all means, I am nothing more than a very, very, very lucky person. And I think it all comes down to... SURPRISE, SURPRISE... numerology. Yes, you heard that right. When I was born, one relative of mine said I was going to be a lucky person because I was born on 22.11.1999, because my birth date has a double (2s) and two triples (1s & 9s). I don't believe this is valid reasoning, but how could I ever contradict this? So I acknowledge that the following does not and can't apply to everyone, and I do think it's unfair.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what makes a job "good." Not just decent or tolerable, but actually good. This came up in conversations with friends who are navigating the job market, and it's made me realize how warped our collective understanding of work has become.

Let's start with the basics. What is a job? According to the Cambridge Dictionary, it's "the regular work that a person does to earn money." Fair enough. In our current society, you need money to survive, so you find something that someone else needs and you sell it to them. This implies a few things:

First, work is inherently people-oriented - you're doing something for the benefit of somebody else, even if it's complicated to pinpoint exactly who benefits from your specific role.

Second, the work has to be feasible for you - you need the means and capacity to do it. A surf trainer needs to know how to surf, but if they don't, they can learn.

Third, you need to be able to do it well enough. You don't have to be the best writer to sell a book, but you need to be good enough.

But here's what bothers me: nowhere in this definition do we talk about whether you actually like what you're doing, or whether it's sustainable, or whether it treats you like a human being.

The Trap We've Normalized

In our capitalist society, we've somehow accepted that all jobs are trying to extract the most from you while giving you the least possible in return. Given this premise, the only "logical" choice seems to be chasing the highest-paying jobs - which usually means big tech companies like FAANG.

And sure, these companies offer impressive benefits: high salaries, free meals, gym access, the prestige of working on systems that affect millions of users. They sell you a narrative about making an impact, working with cutting-edge technology, being part of something bigger.

But I think this narrative is designed to distract you from a fundamental truth: they're buying some of your best years. Your energy, your mental health, your time - and often, by the time you realize the true cost, you're already burned out, cynical about the field you once loved, and facing the prospect of starting over somewhere else.

Why We Keep Falling for It

The insidious part is how this system perpetuates itself. It's not just about individual choices - it's about social pressure, lifestyle expectations, and the way financial stress narrows your options.

Maybe you have student loans. Maybe your partner has certain expectations about lifestyle and status. Maybe you've been job searching for months and this is the only solid offer you've received. Maybe everyone around you is measuring success by salary numbers and company prestige.

When you're facing these pressures, the choice to prioritize your wellbeing over a paycheck can feel not just difficult, but impossible. And that's exactly how these toxic work environments maintain their talent pipeline - by making the alternative seem unrealistic.

What if We Got It Backwards?

Here's what I believe: a company should not strictly prioritize capital growth over the wellbeing of its employees. I think if you give people time, resources, and a healthy work environment where employees aren't treated like batteries that can be depleted and replaced, everybody wins.

I know this might sound naive, but I've actually experienced it. I work at a cybersecurity research institute - part of a larger German research organization - where we explore cutting-edge security concepts, conduct research, and deliver innovative solutions for both industry and public sector clients. What's remarkable isn't the work itself - it's the culture we've built around it.

People genuinely enjoy coming to work. There's trust instead of micromanagement. We focus on delivering quality results rather than performing busyness. The atmosphere is collaborative rather than competitive - we actually help each other succeed instead of seeing colleagues as threats.

We have real brainstorming sessions with lofi music playing in the background, gathered around our self-made coffee corner where we brew espresso and experiment with new recipes. We play video games together outside of work. We discuss ideas and challenge each other intellectually without it turning toxic. We have the freedom to implement silly little projects that spark our curiosity, to try things out just because they seem interesting.

This might sound trivial, but it makes all the difference. When work feels playful and creative, when you're genuinely excited about the people you work with, everything improves. I look forward to Monday mornings because I get to work on fascinating problems with people I genuinely respect and enjoy being around. And because we're happy and engaged, the work itself gets better - we're more innovative, more collaborative, and we keep growing both individually and as a team.

Do I make as much as I could at a FAANG company? Absolutely not. But the mental peace I have, the freedom to think and create without constant stress, the genuine relationships with my colleagues - I wouldn't trade that for any salary increase.

The thing is, this shouldn't be exceptional. This should be normal. The fact that a workplace where people are treated as human beings feels revolutionary says everything about how broken our expectations have become.

The math isn't as simple as "higher salary = better choice." What about the therapy costs when work stress affects your mental health? The relationships that suffer when you're constantly exhausted? The creative passion that gets extinguished when work becomes purely transactional? The years it might take to recover your enthusiasm for a field you once loved?

The Privilege Problem

But here's where I get stuck, and where I have to confront my own privilege. I'm incredibly lucky to have found this job. Most people don't have access to research institutes with healthy cultures. Most people don't get multiple offers to choose from. Most people are facing student loans, family obligations, or limited opportunities in their field.

When someone tells me they're taking a job at a company known for burning people out because it's their only solid offer after months of searching, what am I supposed to say? "Just hold out for something better" is easy advice when you're not the one facing financial pressure or relationship stress about money.

I can see the problem clearly - I watch people I care about get pulled into systems that I know will probably hurt them. But I don't know how to solve it. How do we create real alternatives when the economic pressures are so immediate and the toxic options pay so much more? How do we change social expectations around success and status? How do we make healthy work environments accessible to more than just the lucky few?

The gap between what should be normal (workplaces that treat people well) and what is normal (workplaces that extract maximum value from employees) feels enormous. And I'm sitting in this privileged position where I get to experience the "should be" while most people are stuck in the "what is."

Maybe that's the point, though. Maybe we need to start by admitting that we've created a system where healthy work environments are treated as luxuries instead of basic standards. Maybe we need to stop normalizing the idea that work should consume you, that ambition means sacrificing your mental health, that the only measure of a good job is how much it pays.

I don't have solutions for the individual people trapped in bad choices by economic necessity. But maybe we can start having more honest conversations about what work could look like. Maybe we can stop celebrating the grind culture and start celebrating workplaces that prioritize sustainability over extraction. Maybe we can make it normal to talk about mental health, work-life balance, and long-term fulfillment as legitimate factors in career decisions.

The research institute where I work proves it's possible to be productive and innovative while treating people well. We're not unicorns - we're just people who happen to work somewhere that hasn't bought into the toxic narrative that good work requires suffering.

What if that became the expectation instead of the exception?

I don't have solutions, but I know the first step is recognizing that we've normalized something that's fundamentally harmful. We've accepted that work should consume you, that ambition means sacrificing your mental health, that the only measure of a good job is how much it pays.

What if we started talking about jobs differently? What if we made space for people to choose sustainability over status, wellbeing over wealth accumulation, long-term fulfillment over short-term prestige?

I don't know how we get there. But I think it starts with conversations like this one.

And to anyone reading this who's facing these difficult decisions right now - you deserve to be happy with your life. Your mental wellbeing is far more important than any high-paying job or the dreams that big tech companies sell you. You can't get these years back. I know that sometimes there aren't many options, and the only door that opens might lead to a place with a concerning reputation. Maybe that reputation is unfounded - maybe you'll find the people are genuinely supportive and the environment is everything you've hoped for. But if that's not true, I sincerely hope you'll have the strength to step back when you need to. I'm rooting for you.