Talent

We're told to work hard in school, aim for a well-paying job, and ideally find one that matches our special talents—preferably something that doesn’t involve getting our hands dirty. But most of us end up trapped in unfulfilling roles subject to the rule of efficiency, unable to see how our work possibly matters. Why? Because in the current system we’re simply feeding the abstract entity of the global economy. This system dismisses work that doesn’t directly boost GDP, which is why vital roles like caregiving, homemaking, and nature restoration remain so undervalued.

And what happened to your talents? Think back to childhood, when your natural abilities were celebrated—caring for animals, drawing, baking, singing, putting on plays. You were brimming with curiosity, creativity, and care. Somewhere along the way, education and work life relegated these gifts to the domain of hobbies—activities to squeeze in during rare free moments, if you have any at all.

When I began my career as an industrial designer, I believed I was using my talents to create products that would improve lives. But over time, I realized I was part of a system that thrives on waste, consumerism, and planned obsolescence—designing things that make people more dependent on technology. I wasn’t solving problems; I was perpetuating them.

I recently met a fellow designer who realized this before myself and made a bold choice—leaving their design job to become a baker. Instead of creating disposable objects for mass consumption, they started making bread, feeding the community, and providing a space for connection. Their work became tangible and deeply meaningful. It transformed their live—not because it was profitable in the conventional sense, but because it honored care, connection, and contribution.

Stepping outside the system doesn’t just create space for your talent and meaningful work; it allows you to rediscover and develop more than one talent. Traditional jobs box you in, channeling your creativity into a narrow role. In alternative ways of working, your talents can flourish in unexpected and rewarding ways. For example:

Your community can benefit from your childhood curiosity for how things work and your knack for tinkering when you help set up a local energy system. Imagine engaging in meaningful work that directly benefits your community which includes yourself, strengthening local resilience and creating shared responsibility.

At the same time you might rekindle your love for: cooking, knitting, beekeeping, pottery or growing food, and create a life where your household supports itself, while you turn hobbies into an autarchic and healthy lifestyle.

Finally, you may help restore balance to the natural world—regenerating ecosystems, creating habitats, and nurturing a deep understanding of how humans can live in harmony with the earth, while you rediscover a sense of belonging within the web of life, where your efforts sustain and are sustained by the ecosystems around you.

These shifts are not about accumulating financial wealth—you won’t get rich in the traditional sense. But you’ll gain something far more valuable: a network of relationships with your community, household, and the natural world that sustain you.

This is the beauty of abandoning "bullshit jobs". It gives you an opportunity to rekindle the forgotten parts of yourself, to find value in your talents—not in abstract terms of profit, but in real, human ability to create, care and connect.