On YouTube, the young man in his mid-twenties leans back in a luxury vehicle and smiles at the camera. “I earned my first million at 23. You can, too!” In the following video, he appears on a beach, drinking a cocktail, his voice suave and assured: “I was once where you are—broke, struggling, desperate. Then, I discovered the formula. Now, I’m financially independent, and I want to share it with you. Simply enroll in my course, and your life will be forever changed. “The comment area is filled with desperate hopefulness: “Bro, I just purchased your course. Can’t wait to be earning day and night!” “This is the thing I was looking for; I’ve been fighting so hard!” Thousands of Pakistanis, particularly the young, are swayed into the “hustle culture” by these online promises of economic freedom daily, believing they too can free themselves from financial insecurity.
These influencers show off their sports cars, designer timepieces, and exotic getaways, creating an image of success with ease. The implication is obvious: if you’re not raking it in, it’s your own fault. You’re not working hard enough, thinking big enough, hustling smart enough. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Byung-Chul Han’s The Burnout Society and his theory of the Achievement Society.
Han contends that today’s human beings are no longer controlled by oppressive outside forces but by internalized pressure for achievement. We have both mastered and enslaved ourselves, working ourselves to death to catch a seemingly never-arriving dream. Pakistan, caught in an accelerating fever for self-help, Internet courses in entrepreneurship, and motivational seminars, is perhaps the very embodiment of such behavior.
Pakistan’s ailing economy, unemployment, and few job opportunities have bred desperation among youth. Conventional jobs are no longer seen as secure, so they look up to social media gurus for salvation. They assure them that money is merely a state of mind away—that if they listen to the correct books, observe the correct strategies, and remain “consistent,” they will succeed. But what when they don’t? When the freelancing profession doesn’t fly, the e-commerce business falls apart, or the cryptocurrency investment disappears in a single night.
Rather than doubting the system, they criticize themselves. They probably didn’t work hard enough. They probably need another course, another paradigm shift, another coach. This is the brilliance of the Achievement Society: individuals oppress themselves, convinced that they are liberated. The pressure is not from an authoritarian government or a demanding boss; it is internal. Every failure is internalized, and every setback is attributed to a lack of personal effort.
Young Pakistanis wake up at dawn, ingest motivational content like a drug, and spend their hard-earned cash on programs that guarantee passive income and financial freedom. They toil day and night, pursuing an illusion, until they are exhausted, financially ruined, and drained emotionally. In the last couple of years, many people have been victims of online scams, investing their money in risky, overblown online ventures. Others invest in costly marketing classes, hoping to find the magic formula for online success. Others take courses in mentorship schemes conducted by so-called millionaires, only to later understand the circumstances of selling dreams rather than producing results. The failures are not greeted with sympathy but blame: “You just didn’t work hard enough,” “You didn’t follow the steps properly.” The cycle repeats as they rush for the next big thing, believing the issue is with them, not the system.
A fixation on unrelenting positivity drives this poisonous culture of self-exploitation. Failure is shamed; burnout is explained away as weakness. Individuals are conditioned to work through exhaustion, to silence doubts, and to deny economic realities.
Rather than questioning whether financial success is the ultimate marker of self-worth, they double down, hustling harder. But as Han contends, freedom lies not in boundless striving but in stepping back and recovering the power to think, reflect, and be. Pakistan’s youth must break the fantasy that self-optimization is enough to liberate them. Rather than pursuing formulas for online success, they need to look to actual skills, collective advancement, and structural transformation. The real antidote to the Achievement Society is not another class, another hustle, or another guarantee of overnight success—it is the bravery to slow down, to question, and to redefine what success is about.
The contemporary notion of success in Pakistan has been increasingly defined by capitalist aesthetics—luxury cars, designer fashion, exotic holidays, and financial freedom. Other conventional indicators of success, like cognitive development, community work, or religious satisfaction, are being overtaken by tangible validation. Such a change has resulted in a population that works tirelessly but remains never contented, always hunting for the next chance or encouragement.
At the same time, the real culprits of Pakistan’s economic woes—elite capture, political instability, and insufficient investment in education and infrastructure—are left untreated. Han’s criticism of the Achievement Society calls for a deeper reflection on what it is to live a purposeful life. The remedy is not in greater exploitation of our energy and time but in the capacity to break away from the hustle culture to value contemplation, critical reflection, and collective advancement. Only by challenging the endless quest for monetary achievement and the system that bars authentic opportunity can Pakistan’s young people escape the poisoned cycle of self-exploitation. By rejecting the myth of limitless opportunity, they can turn to actual skills, durable solutions, and a life shaped by deeper satisfaction instead of the hollow promise of immediate wealth. Hustle culture can impact our mental health and self-worth severely and must be eliminated from society.
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