In the 1990s, a group of high-earning professionals formed Workaholics Anonymous. A founder of the group said, “No matter how much work I did, it was never enough.”
Sound familiar?
This addiction is one we collectively share. It goes beyond an addiction to work—it is an addiction to action. Constant motion. Endless striving. A culture where your worth is measured by what you do, so you always need to do more.
This isn’t a leadership problem. It is a shared cultural belief—and it is everywhere.
But beliefs don’t come from nowhere. Shared beliefs are born from shared experiences.
Think about it. Most of us were praised as kids when we achieved something—good grades, a trophy, a chore done well. Rarely were we celebrated simply for being. In our careers, we’re rewarded for taking on more, for being available at all hours, for never saying no. Promotions go to the busiest. Recognition follows the visible hustle.
The experience is clear: value comes from doing. Worth comes from output.
In 1930, economist John Maynard Keynes predicted we’d all be working 15-hour weeks in 100 years. He wasn’t wrong about the technology. We have been able to do more with less—and yet the work week has not shrunk. The productivity gains brought by technology were translated, not into time, but into profits. Our time still belongs to doing more.
A recent Jacobin article by Meagan Day puts it plainly: “After 1980, Americans started working longer hours despite surging productivity, nearly erasing two decades of postwar leisure gains.”
Let that sink in. We became more productive… and worked more, not less.
Why? Because our culture has normalized busy-ness. We’ve tied our value to how busy we are. We live in a reality where even the most privileged leaders work around the clock—not because they have to, but because they don’t know how to stop.
And now, AI is forcing the question again. Bill Gates recently predicted we’ll work 15-hour weeks within a decade, thanks to AI. And I might believe that—if we hadn’t already heard it before. What Keynes and Gates didn’t account for was that while the technology may have allowed for it, our mindset did not.
I suggest that even if AI gives us the freedom to do less… we won’t know how because we are addicted to action. And not just action—but what it represents.
Action gives us a sense of control. It soothes our fear of failure. It feeds our desire to be seen as valuable. It helps us avoid discomfort, insecurity, and self-doubt. It gives us a hit of dopamine, a fleeting sense of progress, even if we’re spinning our wheels.
We say we’re driven, but what we really are… is scared. Scared of being obsolete. Scared of being unworthy. Scared of being still. Scared of losing something we have, or not getting something we want.
So we fall into what we call the Action Trap—confusing movement for progress, and effort for impact. We act, not strategically, but reactively. We do more, not better. And in doing so, we often do the wrong things in pursuit of the right results. And until that changes, the tools won’t matter.
The future won’t be decided by AI. It will be decided by the mindsets we bring to AI.
So before we ask what AI can do, we need to ask: What are we willing to let go of?
Elsewhere In Culture
Elon Musk just pulled off what might be the biggest deal of the year—and he did it without even pretending to follow Wall Street’s rulebook. The merger of X and xAI, clocking in at a $110 billion valuation, isn’t just unconventional—it’s a corporate culture statement. One set of advisers for both sides, no market check, and an all-stock transaction? It’s like he moved a company from his checking account to his savings account. But the real story isn’t the mechanics—it’s the mindset. Musk has built a workplace culture around speed, control, and personal conviction over consensus. This deal isn’t just a financial move; it’s a case study in how culture at the top shapes behavior across an entire enterprise.
And that culture—where vision overrides process—raises deeper questions about governance, accountability, and long-term performance. When leaders blur the lines between personal empire-building and organizational strategy, employees follow suit. Is this a culture where transparency thrives? Where innovation is disciplined, not just disruptive? Musk’s teams may be brilliant, but they also operate in a world where traditional checks and balances don’t apply. That can create clarity and momentum—or confusion and burnout. What’s clear is this: company culture doesn’t just influence how people work. It determines how decisions like this get made—and whether they’ll ultimately deliver results.
https://apnews.com/article/primark-fast-fashion-bad-behavior-d860a2dc20a003334f4047a3bc8b9383
When a CEO resigns over misconduct in a social setting, it’s not just a headline—it’s a culture moment. At Primark, Paul Marchant’s exit following allegations of inappropriate behavior underscores how blurred the lines between workplace and social environments have become, especially at the leadership level. Culture doesn’t clock out at 5 p.m. The standards we hold for integrity and respect don’t disappear at dinner parties or offsite events. If anything, those moments reveal who a leader really is when the stakes feel lower but the consequences—cultural and financial—can be enormous.
What’s notable here isn’t just the resignation, but the market reaction: a 4.9% drop in parent company ABF’s stock. That’s what happens when trust erodes. Leaders often ask, “How do we create a culture of accountability?” Start with the top. Culture is shaped by what leaders tolerate, but it’s defined by what they themselves do. If your culture relies on external investigations to surface bad behavior, that’s a reactive system. The real work is building proactive norms where respect, safety, and inclusion aren’t just statements in a press release—they’re lived values reinforced at every level, including after hours.