Hustlerot: Why fake-deep career advice should be a crime

Hustlerot: Why fake-deep career advice should be a crime

There’s a viral clip doing the rounds right now of Real Housewives of Dubai star Sara Al Madani on a podcast called MindValley. She looks straight into the camera, drops her voice into faux-profundity mode, and says: “Don’t love your job, job your love.”

I beg your finest pardon? That sentence sounds like it escaped from a broken fortune cookie factory. It’s giving “what if we reversed the words, maybe it will sound deep”. Okay, Yoda.

Nonetheless, people are sharing it like she just rewrote the ten commandments (of course they are). Friends, this is what I call hustlerot. The junk food of motivational content. It looks shiny, it tastes like wisdom for half a second, but ultimately it leaves you bloated and regretful because it’s f**king meaningless.

WTF is is hustlerot?

It’s the genre of pseudo-motivational babble that sounds profound, but collapses the second you apply basic logic. It usually belongs on LinkedIn, stuff like:

• “Don’t chase money, let money chase you”

• “Work smarter, not harder” (with zero roadmap of what “smarter” actually means)

• “Wake up before the sun and you’ll be successful” (congratulations, you’re just tired, and 8 hours of sleep is actually important)

It’s philosophy that’s been left out in the sun too long. It’s a TED Talk written by a malfunctioning Magic 8 Ball (no shade to the Magic 8 Ball.)

Why does it go viral?

Because hustlerot is easy, damn it. It’s a 7-second shot of clarity for people who desperately want life to come with subtitles. Real wisdom is messy and complex, nobody shares that on TikTok. The algorithm rewards snackable slogans that make you feel like you’ve just “leveled up” without doing anything. Delicious morsels for those who want all the outcome without any effort.

Plus, influencers love hustlerot because it makes them look sage without requiring any actual knowledge. Say something vague in a podcast mic, clip it for reels, boom: instant guru energy.

Why it’s harmful (and deeply, deeply insufferable)

Because it’s cringe. But it’s also corrosive. It tells you that if you don’t monetise your hobbies, you’re wasting your life. It erases nuance around work, joy, and survival, and replaces it with bumper-sticker theology. It’s the lie that every problem can be solved if you just think differently - which, by the way, is also the tagline of Apple, not Aristotle for crying out loud.

Meanwhile, actual conversations about labour exploitation, creative burnout, and what it means to find meaning in work get ignored. Because those don’t fit neatly into a soundbite.

The punishment

Frankly, hustlerot should be punishable by law. Minimum sentence:

• Six months of community service writing actual useful career guides

• A crash course in real philosophy until you can at least explain Plato without using the word “grindset”

• And if you re-offend? Straight to solitary confinement with nothing but LinkedIn thought-leadership posts to read

How not to fall into the hustlerot trap (especially on LinkedIn)

If you’re worried about accidentally becoming the villain here, relax. Avoiding hustlerot is actually simple. Just don’t post like a broken inspirational poster. Instead of flipping words around until they sound vaguely profound, say something specific and grounded. Tell a story. Share an actual example of what worked (or didn’t) in your job. Be generous with real advice, not riddles. On LinkedIn especially, resist the urge to turn your thoughts into a one-line koan about synergy. People crave texture, not empty calories.

I generally go by this rule of thumb: if your “wisdom” can be printed on a coffee mug at Target, it probably belongs in the hustlerot hall of shame. So next time someone tells you to French kiss the bleeding jaws of capitalism, just smile politely and keep scrolling. You don’t need hustlerot.

Love your life, ignore the junk wisdom, and for the love of God: don’t clock that tea, tea that clock.

-Sophie Randell, Writer