Recipe for a Perfectly Cooked Workplace

A Taste of the Modern Workplace: The Recipe for Burnout

Once upon a time, there was a small team of employees who lived in a world filled with dreams of innovation, camaraderie, and success. They were a diverse group, each bringing their own set of skills, strengths, and ambitions to the table. It was a place where the future seemed promising—a workplace that seemed like it could become the next great success story, filled with possibilities and visions of change.

At first, this office seemed like a utopia. It was an open-plan space, buzzing with a sense of opportunity. There were bean bags in the break area, a fancy coffee machine that brewed cappuccinos on demand, and even plants hanging from the ceiling to create an environment that whispered “relaxation.” Posters of motivational quotes covered the walls—statements like “Dream Big!” and “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work!” were splashed in bold, eye-catching colors.

People smiled as they came in each morning. They greeted one another warmly and exchanged stories about their weekends. There was a comforting sense of purpose. They were there to accomplish something great together. And it was with this vision that they embarked on what they believed to be an exciting journey, driven by a dream they all shared.

They had no idea that something darker awaited them—a recipe that had been perfected over decades passed from one corporate generation to the next. A secret formula for squeezing the absolute best out of employees, while sacrificing everything else—creativity, motivation, personal time, and, most tragically, their mental well-being.

The Ingredients: A Well-Kept Corporate Secret

This secret recipe wasn’t written in any handbook, nor spoken about openly. It was the kind of formula that brewed in whispers during board meetings, never quite uttered aloud but understood instinctively by those seeking to maximize productivity. It called for ingredients that were carefully measured, ensuring just the right mix of emotions, pressures, and power dynamics.

These were the ingredients required:

• 1 cup of optimism (preferably fresh, but store-bought works just as well if genuine is unavailable)
• 2 tablespoons of "team spirit"
• 3 cups of unrealistic deadlines
• A pinch of fear
• A handful of hollow compliments
• 1 boss with unpredictable mood swings (optional, but highly recommended for a more potent effect)
• A dash of secret resentment
• ½ teaspoon of fatigue (or to taste)

Step 1: Preheat the Environment

The first step in cooking up Burnout Stew was to prepare the workplace environment—turning it into a pressure cooker. The setting needed to be ideal: a high-stakes atmosphere that gave the illusion of impending greatness but also the sense that time was always running out.

Emails arrived at all hours, the expectation set that they must be answered promptly, regardless of whether it was 3 PM or 3 AM. Gradually, the temperature was increased. Once manageable expectations were slowly amplified—stretch goals became standard practice. Projects that once took months had their deadlines sliced in half, while the workload doubled.

The pressure was essential. Without enough pressure, the environment wouldn’t reach the boiling point required to infuse all the necessary flavors. So, the temperature was steadily cranked up. Subtle cues like urgent last-minute meetings sighs of impatience from the boss, and team leads with furrowed brows all helped raise the stakes, ensuring a steady simmer of tension.

Step 2: Marinate the Employees

The employees were marinated in optimism. At first, it was a generous soak—leaders spoke about long-term visions that promised career growth, reward, and recognition. They were reminded of the potential for groundbreaking innovation, of being on the cusp of something life-changing, transformative, and unique.

"Team spirit" was added to the mixture. They were sent on team-building exercises—paintball, escape rooms, a ropes course in the middle of the woods—all carefully chosen to make them bond, to ensure that when things got tough, they would hold each other up.

The marination process was slow, taking weeks, even months. The hope was that the optimism would fully seep into their spirits, binding them as a group. The idea was to convince them that this wasn’t just a job—it was a calling. It wasn't about hours worked or tasks completed; it was about a shared vision, a unified purpose, and the dream of something much bigger.

This marination process was crucial because the longer they soaked, the more prepared they were to accept what would come next—the deadlines, the overwork, the exhaustion. They needed to feel like they were in it together, fighting for something greater, so they wouldn’t notice when the challenges started to become more burdensome than rewarding.

Step 3: Add Unrealistic Deadlines with a Pinch of Fear

Now it was time to mix the unrealistic deadlines with a pinch of fear. This part of the recipe was particularly delicate. Adding too much fear too quickly could cause the optimism to curdle, leading to early burnout or even resignation. But just enough fear, introduced at the right moments, would fuel productivity.

These unrealistic deadlines weren’t introduced as impossibilities; they were presented as challenges—“stretch goals” that were supposed to push boundaries. The boss, a charismatic figure who spoke with infectious enthusiasm, would present these targets with a gleam in their eye. “We can make this happen if we all give it our 110%,” they’d say. And everyone would nod, because how could they not? Who would want to be the one to raise their hand and say it couldn’t be done?

The fear wasn’t always obvious. It was a low, simmering kind of fear—fear of disappointing the team, fear of being left behind, fear of not living up to one’s potential. The kind of fear that nudged you to stay an extra hour at work, to open up the laptop after dinner, just to get ahead for tomorrow.

Step 4: Stir in Hollow Compliments

As the deadlines loomed, and the simmering pot began to bubble, hollow compliments were added to the mix. These were the kinds of compliments that sounded like praise but held no real substance. “Great job!” someone might hear, without context or detail. Or, “You’re such a rock star,” even though they felt more like a worn-out roadie.

The purpose of these compliments wasn’t to genuinely uplift—it was to smooth out the bitterness of exhaustion, to make it more palatable. It was to keep everyone just hopeful enough that their efforts were being seen, though not necessarily rewarded. Compliments were sprinkled in during meetings, added casually in emails, and dropped into conversations in the hallway.

These compliments did just enough to keep everyone from realizing that the positivity they were soaking in was becoming increasingly diluted.

Step 5: Add the Boss with Mood Swings

The optional, but highly recommended ingredient: the boss with mood swings. This was added to the pot, creating an unpredictable heat. This boss was someone who could be inspiring one day—lifting the team with speeches of motivation and hope—and then, the next day, they’d be curt and irritable, slamming doors or sending passive-aggressive emails.

The unpredictability kept the employees guessing. It meant they never quite knew what they were walking into each morning. It kept them on edge, made them work harder to stay in the boss’s good graces, to avoid being the one on the receiving end of that frustration.

This unpredictable heat was key to the flavor profile of Burnout Stew. It ensured a constant state of alertness, of vigilance. Employees were never fully relaxed; they were always simmering, always just a bit uncertain about what might come next.

Step 6: Sprinkle in Resentment

At this stage, resentment started forming naturally. It began as a small undercurrent, hardly noticeable at first. But as the unrealistic deadlines kept coming, as the hollow compliments became the norm, as the boss’s mood swings oscillated wildly, resentment began to build.

It started as murmurs during lunch breaks. Small, subtle comments—“I can’t believe we have another late-night deadline,” or “Did you see the boss’s email?” It was the kind of resentment that grew in the shadows, whispered in corners, spreading quietly until it became part of the environment.

Resentment added depth to the dish, a complexity that made the flavor richer, albeit bitter. It was stirred frequently and mixed back into the pot so that it wouldn’t stick too visibly. No one wanted to be the one caught openly resenting the situation, but everyone felt it. It was there, lingering, creating a heaviness that weighed everyone down.

Step 7: Season with Fatigue

Finally, fatigue was added. By this stage, the employees were already weary. The deadlines, the pressure, the constant vigilance—it all took its toll. Fatigue wasn’t just a seasoning; it became a thickening agent, binding everything together.

Fatigue was what made the optimism seem hollow, what made the deadlines unbearable. It was the fatigue that added that sluggish, weary consistency to the dish. It was what made the mornings feel heavier, what made the smiles harder to muster, what turned a once-exciting journey into something that felt like a trudge.

Step 8: Simmer Until Burnt Out

And then, the final step: reducing the heat and letting the mixture simmer until burnt out. The environment grew quieter. People no longer greeted each other with the same enthusiasm in the mornings. The laughter that once echoed across the office during breaks was replaced with tired sighs, eyes that stared blankly at screens, with shoulders that slumped a little more each day.

The burnout wasn’t sudden—it crept in slowly, like a fog rolling in overnight, until one day, everyone was enveloped in it. The once-vibrant atmosphere was now filled with exhaustion, the dream they had started with was now obscured by the daily grind that had taken over.

The Final Serving: Productivity, Garnished with Forced Smiles

Burnout Stew was served on plates labeled “Productivity.” The presentation was key—on the surface, everything still looked good. Employees still showed up each day, still met their deadlines, still said, “Great job,” to one another. But there was a hollowness to it all, a forced nature to the smiles and the “we can do this” attitudes.

The garnish of forced smiles was the final touch. It was what made the dish presentable, what kept everything looking just right from the outside, even as the bitterness of burnout overwhelmed everything underneath.

Cook’s Note: A Hope for Something Different

This recipe has been passed down through generations of workplaces, a tried and tested method for productivity at the cost of well-being. It’s a dish that’s been served far too often, in too many places, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste that lingers long after the workday is done.

But perhaps, one day, there will be a different recipe—a recipe for fulfillment, for genuine well-being, for a workplace that lifts its people up without burning them out. Perhaps one day, we’ll cook up something that tastes a bit more like hope, like purpose, like a place where everyone can truly thrive.

Until then, here’s to hoping for a new set of ingredients, and a recipe worth sharing.