In a quiet room, a young woman slouched in her chair during a focus group, her voice trembling as she admitted, “I don’t remember who I was before I got tired.” Around her, others nodded in silent agreement, her story echoing everyone’s shared experience.

Burnout, once confined to psychology textbooks, has become a universal phenomenon. It pervades workplaces, schools, and personal lives, emerging earlier and earlier in life for younger generations.

Promotions, achievements, new products, new content—our society places a high premium on productivity. It’s worth asking: Have we unintentionally created a culture that thrives as we weaken?

This is a piece on how burnout is becoming a defining experience for many young people, highlighting its intergenerational roots, as well as some thought nuggets on how to break free from its grasp.

The ‘Always-On’ Generation: Are We Glorifying Exhaustion?

Burnout culture refers to a societal or workplace dynamic where overwork, excessive stress, and emotional exhaustion are normalized—sometimes even celebrated. It glorifies relentless productivity, tying self-worth and identity to career milestones and material achievements, often at the expense of well-being and rest.

The term ‘burnout’ metaphorically draws from the depletion of a fire or energy source, symbolizing the exhaustion of emotional and physical resources. This isn’t merely a psychological issue but also has severe physiological implications. Studies show chronic stress associated with burnout can lead to structural changes in the brain¹, particularly in areas like the prefrontal cortex and amygdala, which are crucial for decision-making and emotional regulation.

How Did This Culture Evolve?

Burnout culture is deeply rooted in historical, economic, and technological forces, entangled with individualistic and capitalist values. Psychologist Herbert Freudenberger first introduced the term ‘burnout’ in 1974², describing the emotional exhaustion and reduced accomplishment experienced by healthcare workers. Sociologist Max Weber’s concept of the “Protestant work ethic” highlighted how, during the Industrial Revolution, work became a moral duty, embedding productivity into personal identity.

Over time, this ideology expanded beyond workplaces, fueled by modern economic systems and technological advancements, creating a societal expectation of perpetual output and success.

Intergenerational Roots of Burnout

In many non-Western cultures, the roots of burnout run deeper than individual ambition or societal pressure—they penetrate within our collective histories. For generations, families have valued hard work as the ultimate virtue. In communities without privileged backgrounds, survival often depended on tireless labour. Our parents and grandparents worked with relentless resolve to secure opportunities for the next generation, viewing exhaustion not as a sign of imbalance but as a testament to resilience and duty.

For today’s young people, particularly Gen Z, this legacy creates tension. We are one of the first generations trying to make sense of personal healing while also seeking communal mending. The values handed down to us often conflict with the modern discourse on self-care and balance. How do we reconcile messages like “rest is a right” when we’ve grown up hearing “hard work never killed anyone”?

This dichotomy leaves many young people caught between worlds. On one hand, we carry the weight of intergenerational expectations; on the other, we face the dissonance of wanting more rest, more joy, and a life that isn’t entirely defined by labour. Burnout for us is not just an individual experience but also a cultural inheritance.

Why Is Burnout Hitting the Young So Hard?

From meticulously curated Instagram feeds to viral TikTok dances, the pressure to excel isn’t just professional; it’s deeply personal. Researchers have found that perfectionism has increased by 33% since the 1980s³. Social media has amplified this, becoming both a tool and a mirror reflecting idealized lives that leave young people feeling inadequate; amplifying the “hustle culture,” glorifying overwork and constant self-improvement. Frequent social media use correlates with higher levels of anxiety, alienation, and depressive symptoms⁴, largely driven by the pressure to measure up to curated representations of success.

Moreover, individuals entering the workforce now are carrying years of academic burnout. Internships, side hustles, and the pursuit of academic accolades often start early, ingraining a culture of relentless striving. Unlike earlier generations, the “always-on” nature of modern work—emails, Slack messages, and social media—makes true disconnection nearly impossible. According to a 2018 Pew Research Center survey⁵, 54% of teens then said they spend too much time on their phones but report anxiety about being “left out” if they disconnect.

Who iIs Iimpacted Mmost?

Young people, particularly women and workers under 30, are disproportionately affected⁶ by burnout. Economic insecurity, precarious employment, and student debt further exacerbate the issue. According to the International Labour Organization, young people face higher unemployment rates and job instability⁷, leaving them in a constant state of uncertainty and overexertion.

The COVID-19 pandemic acted as a catalyst, amplifying burnout by blurring work-life boundaries. A 2022 McKinsey survey⁸ found that 49% of workers reported feeling burned out, citing diminished mental health and increased responsibilities during the pandemic.

In collectivist cultures, burnout manifests differently. It’s also tied to familial or community obligations, alongside individual achievements. For instance, young people may feel the dual pressure of excelling at work while fulfilling traditional family roles, leaving little room for self-prioritization, or self-care.

Breaking the Cycle?

We’ve been pouring from an empty cup.

Drawing from Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own, we might reimagine what life could look like if we all carved out a metaphorical room—not for relentless productivity, but for being. Woolf proposed that women needed space and financial independence to write; perhaps today, we all need space and emotional independence to truly live.

Less Is More

Normalizing boundaries and embracing digital detoxes, even for an evening a week, can significantly reduce stress. Tricia Hersey’s book Rest is Resistance advocates for reframing rest as a right, not a reward. Techniques like the Pomodoro Technique—working for 25 minutes followed by a 5-minute break—have been shown to maintain energy and reduce fatigue.

What if success didn’t mean climbing professional ladders but living authentically and pursuing creative passions, or self-actualization⁹ as Maslow would call it? Celebrating personal milestones—adopting a new hobby such as gardening or cooking, nurturing friendships, or maintaining a ‘daily joys’ diary—over traditional metrics of success could be so valuable in dismantling burnout culture.

Less is more. Scheduling downtime as intentionally as work or social commitments allows for deep, quality engagement in fewer areas rather than spreading oneself too thin.

Rebuild Your Village

Communities play a crucial role in combating burnout. Surabhi Yadav’s photo project Basanti: Women at Leisure documents women reclaiming moments of rest and leisure in everyday settings, from lounging under trees to painting their toenails. These acts are radical in societies where women’s labor is undervalued and leisure is considered a luxury. Similarly, Indian traditional practices like yoga, meditation, and ayurvedic principles—rooted in holistic well-being—offer tools for balance and healing that predate modern burnout discourse.

Intergenerational healing requires us to honor the sacrifices of previous generations while questioning which values serve us today. It means recognizing that while hard work was essential for our parents, our generation’s work might also include creating lives where rest, joy, and connection are equally valued.

Conclusion

Burnout doesn’t have to define our generation or adulthood. By stepping off the hamster wheel and asking, “What would my life look like if I didn’t have to prove myself?” we can move away from merely surviving to maybe a little living.

Balance over hustle. By rejecting the glorification of overwork, reframing rest as essential—not by what we produce, but by how deeply we live—and fostering compassionate communities, we can challenge the norms that perpetuate exhaustion. For younger generations, this also means embracing intergenerational healing—honoring the resilience of our past and reframing narratives for our present, one small act of rest, joy, or community at a time. For a room of one’s own.

If you’re a woman in your 20s experiencing burnout and seeking a virtual community centered on compassion, joy, and creativity, email muskan@ohhumanness.com to join.

Caring for the Climate and One Another

I’m Muskan Lamba (she/her), a mental health researcher, expert by experience, and facilitator, deeply curious about the impacts of climate change on human well-being. I am conducting the first study on climate anxiety among youth in the Indian subcontinent, particularly in climate-vulnerable communities. With a passion for nurturing communities and anti-burnout culture, I’ve been creating spaces where individuals can confront anxiety and find care amidst the polycrisis affecting the world, destabilizing our connection to nature and one another.

Witnessing ecological instability firsthand in the form of massive heatwaves, with temperatures reaching 50°C and AQI soaring to 1000+ in Delhi, India, fuels my passion for this work. Through initiatives like hosting Resilience Circles with the Resilience Project UK, I’ve seen firsthand how shared struggles within climate movements—such as the pressure to constantly “do more” or feelings of helplessness—can be transformed when met with communal empathy and conversations that emphasize creativity, connection, and rest as an act of resistance.

What Even Is Climate Anxiety?

Climate anxiety, also sometimes referred to as eco-anxiety or ecological grief, is a psychological distress people experience in response to the existential threat of climate change. It manifests as chronic fear, worry, and a sense of helplessness, triggered by thoughts, or experiences, of environmental threats such as extreme weather events (think flooding, forest fires), rising temperatures, and the destruction of ecosystems.

Research has shown that this anxiety can lead to physical symptoms like insomnia, loss of appetite, and panic attacks, and more recently, is even being theorized as a Pre-Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PreTSS). While it is not classified as a mental illness, climate anxiety reflects a rational human response to the looming environmental crisis.

The Psychological Toll of Intense Heat

Rising global temperatures and intensifying heat waves are straining the ecosystems, and also our minds and bodies, leaving a profound psychological imprint as people face the upheaval of migration, loss of familiar landscapes, and an insecure, uncertain future.

The lived experience of climate anxiety is particularly pronounced among vulnerable communities struggling with multiple crises at once, yet much of the literature so far comes from High-Income Countries (HICs). In regions where systemic inequalities limit access to mental health resources, the burden is heavier, leaving communities with fewer tools to cope, governmental apathy, and worse, stigma around these troubles.

My research, which surveyed ~300 respondents from South Asian countries, revealed a strong sense of distress amongst young people aged 18-30, with respondents expressing feelings of isolation, helplessness, and frustration. This emotional burden is exacerbated by social inequalities, leading to more vulnerable groups, such as women and minorities, bearing the brunt despite contributing the least to the climate crisis.

In the words of a survey respondent: “Experiencing extreme heat waves, especially those reaching up to 50°C, makes daily life unbearable, often causing physical discomfort and mental stress. The heat disrupts routines, worsens health, and creates an overwhelming sense of helplessness. The stress of managing daily tasks under such harsh conditions, coupled with the anxiety of seeing others suffer, is overwhelming.”’

Sensemaking of our Emotional Responses

As we live through multiple crises intertwined—ecological, economic, socio-political—it is slowly, but surely, becoming clear that our emotional selves are not quite okay, and they require a brave space to be acknowledged and nurtured.

Historically, communities have gathered around firesides—sharing stories, singing, and connecting—to process their collective struggles. In some cultures, such as in rural India, the act of storytelling would allow them to process grief and celebrate resilience. In many African cultures, fireside conversations are central to the philosophy of Ubuntu (“I am because we are”). In Native American traditions, too, the council fire served as a place to discuss important matters, resolve conflicts, and honor ancestors.

In today’s fractured, isolated world, where emotions are as it is stigmatized much of the time, we must recreate safe “third spaces” where individuals can come together to collectively process their emotions and tap into collective wisdom. Further, the prevailing culture of “do more” has contributed significantly to burnout, and shifting towards a regenerative approach allows individuals to preserve their mental and emotional health while continuing to call for change.

Resilience Circles

A purposeful and deeply impactful initiative I have been part of is the facilitation of Resilience Circles with the Resilience Project UK. These circles provide a unique opportunity for youth navigating burnout, climate anxiety, and the like, to come together, come undone, and foster a sense of hope amidst the overwhelm as we make sense of the pain, and develop coping strategies.

By bringing individuals together in a safe, supportive environment, free from jargon or the pressure to perform, these circles allow participants to express themselves openly without fear of judgment or invalidation. These circles are rooted in practices like mindfulness, storytelling, and brainstorming ways to heal, empowering participants to see their emotions not as weaknesses but as sources of curiosity and wonder. For instance, transforming a narrative such as “Vulnerability is a weakness.” to “Vulnerability can be a strength around the right people.”

Climate anxiety can lead people to isolate themselves when they don’t see it as something rational or real. Some describe feeling they must carry the burden alone or be constantly active in the fight against the crisis. However, circles such as this, challenge the notions by encouraging rest and regenerative practices as essential forms of resistance and self-care. For example, in one session, a participant shared feelings of guilt about needing to take a break from activism. This feeling was reframed, through the group’s input, as an important form of sustenance in the movement.

Closing Thoughts: Tap into Collective Wisdom

Climate anxiety is an evolving concept, with subjective lived experience depending on one’s culture, society, personal stories, and intermingling with other crises. It’s isolationary, but it’s a highly common experience that many are grappling with today.

Community creates a foundation for collective sensemaking, where the burden of climate change may be carried together. By creating more spaces, digital and otherwise, that prioritize rest, creativity, and shared wisdom, we enable more sustainable forms of coping with climate anxiety.

At the end of the day, this shift requires systemic change, where mental health is seen as integral to action against polycrisis, and emotional well-being is prioritized alongside traditional notions of productivity and achievement.

We must recognize the importance of third spaces—places where individuals can come together to connect, share stories, and find common ground. In doing so, we may create ripples of resilience that extend far beyond ourselves—just as our ancestors did by the firelight.

Interested in contributing to understanding and addressing topics like climate anxiety? Join CliMind, a youth-centric virtual community focused on exploring the connections between climate change and well-being: https://chat.whatsapp.com/DPW2866mRbfDNZKWo11GUH

Author: Muskan Lamba

The Burnout Culture: Muskan Lamba