Humans need projects. We need something to do, something to look forward to, something to strive for. We are wired for this. Genes that prioritized planning, anticipating, and having a goal survived evolutionary forces; those who did not, perished.

For most of human history, the project was to survive. Hunger, wars, disease: death was everywhere. Unfortunately, survival is still not guaranteed for much of the world, and even in wealthy countries, many live close to that edge. As societies became safer and more abundant for some, the human drive for “what’s next” began to shift.

Once daily survival is no longer in question, the obvious next project is to thrive. And most do so via accumulating wealth, experiences, pleasures, and options. Accumulation becomes the project, and the means of accumulation (work) becomes too important to let go. Yet after a while, many realize that once life is comfortable, accumulating in anticipation of future pleasure and/or avoidance of pain doesn’t feel like a worthy project. This hollowness is the signal that our minds are searching for a new kind of pursuit.

This is where the wiring gets restless. Our brains evolved for forward motion, for envisioning a future state, breaking it into steps, and moving toward it. When that system has nothing to latch onto, it starts to fray. People feel bored, anxious, or vaguely unmoored, even if life looks comfortable from the outside. Retirement, career breaks, and "having it all" can trigger this in surprising ways.

The answer is not to cling to the old survival-accumulation ladder but to step out of the box. Choose some new projects that can give structure, feedback, and meaning. These projects do not have to be grand. They can be creative, physical, intellectual, or relational. What matters is that they point somewhere beyond mere comfort, toward mastery, contribution, or curiosity.

I picked focus on mental and physical health as my project recently. But a lack of progress towards my project has made me feeling immensely frustrated. Most of my days are unstructured right now. It does not help that it is summer break, so the whole family is at home and it is hard to carve out time to “do” something alone. Summer break is almost over, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but the experience left me wondering: is there truly no escape from our programming, or can we ever live well without projects?

So why did Buffett work so long? Why didn’t he retire earlier? What gave him the drive to work for almost all of his adult life (70+ years)?

Direct answers to these questions are hard to come by. But people have speculated. And the speculations point to two main reasons. First, Buffett loves what he does. Even if he retires, he would end up doing what he does now to pass time. So “work” doesn’t feel like work to him. Second, Buffett feels a sense of obligation towards Berkshire shareholders to continue working and giving them the best returns his company can.

So what does it mean for our quest to find why we work? I believe we found two new reasons: 1) Craftsmanship and 2) Obligation

Craftsmanship

When people spend their life perfecting a skill, it is hard to let go. They derive satisfaction from using their skill (and continuing to improve on it) to do something in the real world. But note the difference. Doing something because you enjoy doing it is not the same as doing it just because you have been doing it so long that it is tied to your identity, you have become good at it and you are getting paid a ton to do it. A true craftsman would enjoy the craft even if it doesn’t pay well, it doesn’t help his/her ego etc. I would put Warren Buffett and the legendary sushi chef Jiro Ono in this category.

Obligation

A friend of mine, who is a leader in a big firm, told me that he works because he cares about his team. He wants to make sure the team has a good mentor, has someone who has their back and who is invested in their growth. In other words, he feels obligated to do well by them as long as he can. He had good mentors early in his career and he feels obligated to do his part.

But obligations can come in other forms. Obligation can be towards your immediate or extended family, which can cause people to work longer than they would otherwise need to, because they need to have a larger financial cushion.

Like Buffett, I am sure you know other founder CEOs who have lingered in their companies long after it made sense. Obligation is a noble reason to work, but it is also a double-edge sword. If the work for obligation, will you do as good a job vs if you were working for other reasons?

We covered a lot of ground on why people work in this post and the previous one. What else is missing?

Over time, I’ve noticed a few common reasons why people work and they’re not always obvious.

Purpose

For a select few, work is a means to achieve a higher purpose.

Sal Khan at Khan Academy, for example, works to provide free world-class education for anyone, anywhere on the planet. That’s an example of a purpose that can lead people to create companies, non-profits or even revolutions. But there are other flavors of this. E.g., some senior leaders find purpose in mentoring and some individuals find purpose in helping their customers solve real problems.

Money

Most work for money. But that’s not an endgoal. Money, too, is just a means.

There are those less fortunate who need the money to just survive. Food, clothes and roof over the head. That’s all that matters to them. And whatever work they can do to survive is precious.

For some others, the money helps them thrive. They want to live a comfortable life. They want to travel to far away places. They want to experience luxury. Some of them even want to leave a legacy. The goal of working for them is to do something meaningful, or just enjoyable, with the money they earn.

There is, of course, a wide spectrum of money-related reasons between survive and thrive; and most people’s reasons fall somewhere between.

Chip on the shoulder

For many others, work is a way to “prove themselves”. They have a chip on their shoulder. They need the world to see them as a winner. They thrive on that external validation.

There is nothing wrong with that as long as you know that’s what’s driving you. And when this ego-driven fuel runs out, you may need to evolve and find a new source of motivation that’s more sustainable.

Societal expectations

But not everyone’s chasing something. Some are just following the path laid out for them. You work because that’s what’s expected of you. You grow up, get a job and climb the corporate ladder. You get married, have kids, buy a house, travel the world; all while working. What else is there to do? Life happens along with work, but work remains a constant. And nothing wrong with this either, as long as the “life” part of work-life balance is on equal footing.

Growth and Connection

Work can also provide a sense of community and make you happy if you are surrounded by people who you like and admire. Work can also push you to get uncomfortable and grow personally. A lot of my personal growth came from striving to do better at work.

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There are also some unfortunate reasons why people work. For example, they don’t have an identity outside of work, or they crave the dopamine hit when they hit that deadline. Work can create an illusion of impact or help you get over your fear of irrelevance.

Finally, people’s reasons may evolve over time, or blend. A person may start with a chip on their shoulder but once achieving what they set out to do, they can pivot to growth and connection.

Navigating the question

The question of why we work needs some deep self-reflection. My advice: don’t trust your gut right away. Human mind is good at making up elaborate stories to fool itself and pump up its ego. People often wrap ambition in language of “impact” or “growth” when they’re really chasing prestige or fear. Money can be an easy scapegoat even though you may already be financially independent and just don’t want to admit it to yourself.

My struggle

I never thought about why I was working. It was only when I hit 40 in the midst of COVID that I started wondering whether life was just on autopilot. I came to the realization that I was working because that’s what I was “supposed to do”. I had not found any larger purpose. Money was important, but wasn’t the reason I worked. I’ll confess I had my share of ego issues at work, but that wasn’t what drove me. And for a while I fooled myself thinking that I was in there for personal growth, but evidence of growth was hard to find.

Having gained that clarity I asked why would I want to work going forward? What will be the role of work in my life? Money still mattered but I found that I enjoyed work more when I was surrounded by people I loved working with and it was helping me grow personally. And when that changed, I knew it was time for work to change as well.

So what?

My humble request to everyone reading this: think about your own reasons for work. I gave some examples of “reasons” in this post, but it’s obviously not a comprehensive list. Observe yourself at work, see what gives you energy and what drains it. Reflect a bit. Collect evidence, and find what drives you. And notice if you are really being true to yourself.

Once you have an answer (or a list of answers), use it to plan the next step in your career. Career is a marathon, not a sprint, and it can be a much more fulfilling journey if your why is clear!

The guest, psychologist Shigehiro Oishi (author of Life in Three Dimensions: How Curiosity, Exploration, and Experience Make a Fuller, Better Life), argues that sustained performance at work requires 'psychological richness' — a kind of cognitive variety.

While capitalism thrives on specialization and division of labor, the human mind does not. Routine, repetitive jobs can increase productivity, but they also raise the risk of burnout. Why? Because our brains crave variety. They wither in monotony.

Oishi even referenced sushi chef Jiro Ono, renowned for his dedication to perfecting a single task every day, a countercase for burnout from specialization. But even Jiro isn’t static. He finds psychological richness through constant improvement, refinement, and innovation in his craft.

This idea resonates with me. In today's fast-paced world, many jobs don’t stay confined to the office. We find ourselves thinking about work during dinner, when falling asleep, and first thing in the morning. While we may not always be working in terms of hours, our mental energy is often consumed by it. As a result, even a comfortable, routine job can feel monotonous much faster. It’s no surprise that my coworkers tend to change teams or companies every three to four years.

So how do we stay fresh?

As employees, we need to mix things up ourselves from time to time. If your role has become too familiar, try adding variety. New problems, new skills, even a change in pace. And if that’s not possible where you are, it might be worth moving on at your peak.

As leaders, we need to pay attention to these cycles. If someone has been in the same seat for three or four years, consider a shift. Adjust their scope. Give them a new challenge. Let backend engineers explore the frontend. Let seasoned managers take a break and go hands-on again. They might resist. I did. I was good at my job and didn’t feel the need to change.

But that resistance is often just comfort speaking.

Sometimes, all it takes is a good conversation. Not a performance review, but a real check-in. What’s energizing them lately? What’s draining them? You might find the early signs of boredom are already there, and you’ll have a chance to do something before it turns into burnout.

I recently decided to take a career break. Many of my friends called me brave for making that choice. The word stuck with me, because I don’t think of myself as particularly brave. So is it courageous to quit your job?

A few years ago when I turned 40, the world was in the middle of a black swan event. The COVID pandemic had turned our lives upside down and forced us to do something we had avoided for a long time: confronting our own mortality. Predictably, turning 40 in the middle of the pandemic triggered a mid-life crisis in me. I started wondering if this is all there is to life. Will I ever find meaning in all this? And what exactly is the meaning of life?

So I spent the next few years reading, contemplating, and doing some self-reflection. There’s much more I will say about this in coming posts, but a big question lingered front and center: Is my job giving me the meaning I crave? Actually, scratch that. Meaning is a tall order. I started smaller. Is what I’m doing for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, giving me anything other than a paycheck? If not, is the paycheck worth it? And if it is giving me something more, like say camaraderie with my coworkers, is it possible to get that outside of a job? As they say in corporate slang, and is the ROI worth it? Because there is a clear trade-off. I am giving up 40+ hours a week, a lot of mental space and physical energy to get whatever I am getting.

Funny thing about the word “job.” It’s dreary by definition. It implies obligation and routine. Re-framing it as “work” or “occupation” doesn’t help either. “Work” evokes productivity and accomplishments. And “occupation” just sounds like something you do to occupy your time.

But why should we be more productive? Why are accomplishments necessary? Do we really need something so rigid to fill our days, when time is the only true resource we have?

There’s a quiet pushback happening across the world against the norms of work.

FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) is making people dream of escaping the rat race. I stumbled onto the FIRE movement when just trying to learn personal finance. The idea resonated with me as it helped me look at work with a different lens. FIRE is a complex topic we should explore another time as I am not sure early retirement is for me.

In China, Lying Flat emerged as a response to relentless societal expectations. I found the imagery compelling: overworked employees physically resisting expectations by literally lying flat on the ground and not hustling to do more and more. In 2021, we also saw the Great Resignation in US, a large increase in number of people quitting their job voluntarily. By 2022, we were talking about Quiet Quitting and bai lan — a more despondent form of rejection of societal expectation.

People seem to be waking up to the idea that work shouldn’t consume life. Work-life balance doesn’t work. Most of our waking hours go into getting ready for work, going to work, working, coming back from work, and then…….. decompressing from work. Weekends are for recovering from the work week and prepping for the next one. Among all this work, where’s the living? Vacations offer a short reprieve, if we're not checking emails and Slack the whole time. Sure, you can "work hard and party harder", but even there the “work-fun balance” is skewed heavily towards work.

So, what’s the solution? Life, unfortunately, isn’t cheap. We can’t all just quit. (Though I’m still reading Walden to see if maybe we can.) And there’s something to be said about the good things work offers. Camaraderie, intellectual stimulation, physical movement, a sense of purpose (however empty), a routine, growth, a sense of achievement and of course, a paycheck. But to truly enjoy work I think we need to make space to explore life outside of it. One way is by taking career breaks regularly.

Sabbatical or career breaks are not looked at very positively in our world right now. Future prospective employers might wonder if there was something wrong with the individual to have left a well-paying job. Did they get fired? Did they have trouble working for their manager, their team or the employer? And will they quit again? A career break also needs a very supportive family and friends. And it can be an extremely risky move to take the financial hit if done without serious forethought.

For me, I loved my job. I was well paid in a good job with a good team in a good company with good future. But I also have two young kids and a busy household. I had also worked continuously since graduating from school and never taken a break. And work, while good, was not fun anymore. I needed a change. It was also fairly stressful and kept me busy. This meant that I could not get the mental stimulation and variety I needed outside of work. So, while risky, it was a risk worth taking for me.

Was it brave? Maybe. Doing something out of the ordinary takes guts, and this felt like one of the bravest things I’ve done. But I know I’m not alone. There are many others in the same boat, contemplating and re-evaluating.

To those of you who are ready, welcome to the unscheduled life, even if just for a while.