In a society brimming with infinite possibilities, it’s easy to imagine that we are living in the best of times. The modern world offers boundless opportunities—become a CEO, a tech entrepreneur, a social media influencer, or an international YouTube star. With hard work, persistence, and some grit, the dream of wealth and success can be realized. This is the narrative we are constantly sold: work hard, achieve success, and everything else will fall into place. Yet, as philosopher Byung-Chul Han cautions, behind this glimmering façade of freedom and choice, there lurks a more insidious reality. A reality in which, instead of achieving freedom, we find ourselves shackled by the very forces we believe are liberating us.
The Illusion of Freedom in the Achievement Society
In the modern era, the notion of freedom has become a central tenet of our existence. We are constantly told that we live in an age of infinite opportunity, a time where anyone, regardless of background, can shape their own destiny. This narrative is echoed in everything from the media to self-help gurus to the advertising campaigns of multinational corporations. The idea that we can “be anything we want to be” has become so ingrained in our collective psyche that it feels like an unassailable truth.
But, beneath the surface of this optimistic rhetoric, a darker reality lurks. The very freedom that society claims to offer often results in a form of self-imposed imprisonment. The capitalistic achievement society, with its relentless focus on self-optimization and success, promises liberation through personal effort. It tells us that with enough hustle, persistence, and innovation, we can transcend the limitations of our circumstances and achieve greatness. This is the very foundation of the “American Dream” and similar ideologies in other parts of the world.
However, Byung-Chul Han challenges this premise. He suggests that the “freedom” we are promised is, in fact, an illusion. In a society that glorifies productivity and constant self-improvement, we are conditioned to view success as the ultimate measure of our worth. This belief leads to an ongoing cycle of striving, working harder, and sacrificing more. The emphasis on personal success traps us in a never-ending race to prove our worth, often at the expense of our well-being.
Han’s point is that we are not truly free in the achievement society because we are constantly driven by external expectations disguised as personal goals. This relentless pursuit of success fosters a culture of competition, comparison, and internalized pressure, which creates a deep sense of inadequacy. Rather than experiencing true autonomy, we find ourselves constantly chasing the next milestone, the next achievement, without ever pausing to ask if these goals are truly meaningful or fulfilling. The result is a society that is more connected, more “free” to choose its path, yet less satisfied and more burned out than ever before.
The Shift from Disciplinary to Achievement Society
Historically, societies operated under a framework of control that was highly visible and external. The disciplinary society, as described by Foucault, was built around institutions such as prisons, factories, hospitals, and schools, where external forces—rules, regulations, and punishments—kept individuals in check. These systems operated through the direct application of power and authority, constraining individual freedom through rigid social structures and imposed norms. People were expected to conform to the roles assigned to them, often through a series of external restrictions designed to maintain order and discipline.
In contrast, the modern achievement society operates through a much subtler mechanism—internal motivation. Instead of overtly imposed rules, individuals are encouraged to regulate their own behavior. This shift represents a move from external authority to self-authority, where the individual is their own taskmaster. Rather than being compelled by an external power (such as a factory boss or military commander), individuals now feel compelled by their own desires for self-improvement, success, and self-optimization. The focus has shifted from following external commands to fulfilling internal drives.
The change from a disciplinary society to an achievement society reflects a transformation in how power operates. Instead of forcing compliance through punishment and restriction, the achievement society relies on the allure of unlimited potential. We are constantly told that we can achieve anything if we work hard enough, that the sky’s the limit for our personal success. However, this shift comes with its own set of pressures. While the disciplinary society may have imposed external constraints, the achievement society imposes internal ones that are even harder to escape from because they come from within.
The result is a paradox: we live in an era of unprecedented freedom, yet we are more burdened than ever by the weight of our own expectations. This shift to self-regulation often leads to self-imposed exploitation, where the individual is both the worker and the overseer, constantly striving to meet unrealistic standards of success and productivity. In this way, we have moved from a society that controlled through punishment to one that controls through constant self-discipline and relentless pursuit of personal achievement.
The Tyranny of ‘Can’ Versus the Negativity of ‘Should’
One of the key insights that Byung-Chul Han provides in his critique of the achievement society is the distinction between the “negativity of Should” and the “positivity of Can.” In the traditional disciplinary society, people were governed by the “Should”—a set of external rules and obligations that dictated how they should behave, what they should do, and what was expected of them. This model operated on a framework of restriction. People were told what they couldn’t do, and failing to adhere to these rules often resulted in punishment. The “Should” was oppressive and limiting, but it was clear, structured, and easy to understand.
In contrast, the achievement society operates on the “Can”—a seemingly positive force that promises unlimited potential. In this new order, the individual is not constrained by external commands; rather, they are encouraged to realize their own potential and pursue any goal they set for themselves. The “Can” is framed as a liberating force, one that gives individuals the freedom to choose their paths and reach their goals. The idea that we “can” become anything we want is the cornerstone of the achievement society.
However, Han argues that the “Can” is not truly liberating. While it sounds empowering, it comes with a different kind of tyranny. Instead of being told what we “should” do by an external authority, we are now compelled by our internal desire to optimize ourselves, to continuously improve, and to measure our success against increasingly higher standards. The pressure to “Can” becomes an overwhelming force, one that forces us to constantly strive for more—more success, more achievement, more validation—until we burn out.
The “Should” society was oppressive because it placed clear limitations on individuals, often through harsh punishment. The “Can” society, on the other hand, is subtler in its oppression. It places no limits on what we can achieve, but it does not let us stop either. The relentless pursuit of self-improvement, which seems so positive, becomes a never-ending cycle of achievement that leads to exhaustion, frustration, and, ultimately, burnout. The freedom promised by the “Can” is ultimately an illusion, as the drive to succeed becomes an ever-present force that cannot be escaped.
The Paradox of Self-Exploitation
In the achievement society, individuals no longer need external authority figures to exploit them; they exploit themselves. The self-imposed pressure to constantly improve, to climb the ladder of success, to achieve more, has become a form of auto-exploitation. Byung-Chul Han points out that this shift from external exploitation to internalized self-exploitation is more insidious because it is voluntary. People no longer need to be coerced into working harder; instead, they are driven by their own desires for success, recognition, and personal fulfillment.
The problem with this self-exploitation is that it is often invisible. In earlier, more traditional forms of labor exploitation, the worker could see the external forces that were driving them—be it the factory owner, the government, or the ruling class. The system of exploitation was clear and visible. In contrast, in the achievement society, the individual is both the exploiter and the exploited. The pressure to succeed, to keep achieving, to constantly strive for more is self-imposed, and yet it can feel as if it is coming from an external source.
This paradoxical situation—where the individual is both the victim and the perpetrator of their own exploitation—leads to burnout. People push themselves to their limits, setting increasingly unrealistic goals, always feeling that they are falling short of the ideal version of themselves. This self-imposed pressure to succeed can eventually cause profound mental and emotional exhaustion. Instead of taking breaks or resting, individuals push harder, believing that their next achievement will finally bring them the satisfaction they seek. But with every goal reached, the next one becomes even more elusive.
Han’s concept of self-exploitation illustrates a deeper psychological issue at the heart of the achievement society: the more we achieve, the more we feel we have to achieve. The endless cycle of self-improvement can leave us feeling empty, despite all the “success” we accumulate. The individual is caught in a vicious cycle of exploitation, with no clear way to escape, and the result is a profound sense of fatigue, both mentally and physically.
The Consequences of Hyperattention
The modern world thrives on constant stimulation. From the moment we wake up, our day is bombarded by a relentless stream of information—news updates, social media notifications, emails, text messages, and advertisements. The constant influx of stimuli is a defining characteristic of the achievement society, and it has a profound impact on our ability to focus. This phenomenon is known as hyperattention, where our minds are constantly flitting from one task to the next, rarely able to engage deeply with any single thing.
Hyperattention is a result of the demands placed on us by the achievement society. We are encouraged to multitask, juggle multiple responsibilities, and stay on top of an ever-expanding list of duties. This fragmented attention may seem like a skill in high demand, especially in the workplace, but it comes at a cost. The constant shifting of focus between different tasks prevents us from engaging in the kind of deep, meaningful thought that is required for creativity, reflection, and innovation.
Byung-Chul Han critiques this shift in our attention span, arguing that it represents a degradation of one of the most human qualities: the ability to focus deeply on a single task or idea. The great works of art, science, and literature that have shaped human history were produced by individuals who could focus on one idea for extended periods, often isolating themselves from distractions to engage deeply with their thoughts. In contrast, the modern worker is constantly interrupted, forced to split their attention between numerous shallow tasks, and is rarely able to dedicate the time and space needed for profound thinking or creative problem-solving.
This superficial approach to work and life is not only unproductive but detrimental to our well-being. Han points out that hyperattention leads to mental exhaustion. The brain is never allowed to rest or recover between tasks, and the constant bombardment of information prevents the kind of cognitive processing that allows for deeper understanding. The modern individual is no longer capable of contemplation, as their mind is too overstimulated to think clearly. Instead of spending time reflecting, imagining, and creating, we are caught in a cycle of busywork that provides little satisfaction or fulfillment.
In addition to impeding deep thought, hyperattention has psychological consequences. Studies have shown that constant distractions and interruptions can lead to increased stress, anxiety, and decreased productivity. People become more anxious when they cannot concentrate fully on any one task, and the pressure to multitask can create a sense of inadequacy when individuals inevitably fail to keep up with the constant flow of information. In this sense, hyperattention not only erodes our cognitive abilities but also contributes to a more anxious and overstimulated society.
The False Promise of Health and Self-Optimization
The achievement society’s obsession with success extends beyond just career or financial goals—it also permeates our approach to health and well-being. In this world of constant self-optimization, health has become the new religion. Fitness regimens, diets, and wellness trends dominate our lives, with the promise of an idealized body and mind that will unlock the door to success and happiness. But what was once seen as a means of preserving well-being has been transformed into another battleground for personal achievement.
Byung-Chul Han critiques this new focus on health, which he describes as a form of commodification. In the achievement society, health is no longer about feeling good or maintaining a balanced lifestyle; it has become an externalized goal, driven by the pressure to attain an idealized version of the self. People are no longer content with simply living healthy lives; they are obsessed with optimizing their physical appearance and fitness in an attempt to demonstrate their success and worth to others.
This shift is closely tied to the society’s broader obsession with achievement. Health, like wealth, is now seen as a symbol of personal success. Whether it’s through sculpting the perfect body, adhering to the latest diet trends, or constantly monitoring every aspect of physical performance, individuals are pressured to display their commitment to self-optimization. This constant pursuit of bodily perfection not only exacerbates feelings of inadequacy and self-judgment but also reduces the experience of health to a superficial goal that can be measured, compared, and commodified.
The commodification of health also leads to an unhealthy relationship with the body. Instead of focusing on overall well-being and balance, individuals are caught in a cycle of self-obsession, where their value is determined by how closely they align with society’s standards of physical perfection. This leads to a distorted sense of self-worth, as individuals begin to define themselves solely by their appearance or their ability to conform to these standards.
Moreover, Han points out the irony of this trend: while people devote themselves to the pursuit of physical health, they often neglect the deeper aspects of life that contribute to true fulfillment—meaning, purpose, and connection. The obsession with the body creates a hollow pursuit, as the individual’s worth becomes reduced to something as fleeting and surface-level as their appearance. Health, in this sense, becomes another form of self-exploitation—something that should bring balance and vitality to life but instead becomes just another metric of success in a world that demands endless achievement.
Finding Resistance in the Contemplative Life
To counter the destructive forces of the achievement society, Byung-Chul Han advocates for the cultivation of the “vita contemplativa”—the contemplative life. In a world that relentlessly demands productivity, constant action, and self-optimization, the contemplative life offers a form of resistance. It is not about rejecting success or self-improvement, but rather about reclaiming moments of stillness and reflection in a world that values constant motion.
The contemplative life is rooted in the idea of “being” rather than “doing.” In today’s society, the emphasis is always on productivity—what we can accomplish, what we can achieve, and how much we can optimize. Every moment is seen as an opportunity to hustle, to grind, to work toward the next goal. In contrast, the contemplative life invites us to pause, to reflect, and to engage with the world not through constant action but through deep, meaningful thought.
This life is not about mindless relaxation, where we simply distract ourselves with entertainment or temporary pleasures. True contemplation requires active engagement with our thoughts and feelings. It’s about stepping away from the noise and the hustle to engage with the world at a deeper level. It involves quiet moments of reflection, mindfulness, and self-awareness, where we can process our emotions, clarify our thoughts, and cultivate a sense of peace. Han suggests that we need to protect our minds from the constant barrage of information and stimuli that is ever-present in the modern world. By doing so, we reclaim our ability to think critically, to be creative, and to experience life more fully.
The act of contemplation is a form of resistance to the hyper-productivity that defines the achievement society. It is about embracing moments of silence, boredom, and waiting, which are seen as negative forces in a society obsessed with constant activity. By taking time to be still, to do nothing, and to allow the mind to rest, we can break free from the compulsion to always be working, achieving, and optimizing. This space for contemplation is necessary for personal growth, creativity, and emotional well-being.
In the age of constant distractions and overstimulation, Han’s call for the contemplative life is a radical one. It challenges the very fabric of the achievement society, where success is measured by output and constant progress. The contemplative life, by contrast, offers a different kind of success: a life of depth, connection, and meaning. It is through these moments of stillness and reflection that we can reclaim our humanity in a world that has become increasingly dominated by the need to perform and achieve.
The False Promise of Survival in Capitalism
At the heart of Byung-Chul Han’s critique of modern capitalism is the idea that the system reduces human life to mere survival. In the past, capitalist economies were built around the idea of maximizing profit—individuals worked to accumulate wealth and material goods. However, Han argues that the current state of capitalism has shifted. Instead of just focusing on material wealth, modern capitalism has increasingly centered on the idea of “survival.” In this system, life is reduced to maximizing vitality and health, rather than pursuing meaning or fulfillment.
In the achievement society, this obsession with survival manifests as an overwhelming focus on health and longevity. The pursuit of physical well-being, driven by the pressure to stay young, fit, and productive, becomes an end in itself. People are encouraged to optimize their bodies and minds to live longer, healthier lives, but the true question of what it means to live a fulfilling life is sidelined. The capitalist economy, according to Han, doesn’t care about what makes life meaningful; it cares only about efficiency, output, and survival. As a result, people are conditioned to focus on maximizing their physical capabilities and prolonging life, rather than seeking deeper fulfillment or purpose.
The shift toward survival as the ultimate goal, Han suggests, reflects a broader existential crisis. When the meaning of life is stripped away in favor of mere survival, individuals become disconnected from the very essence of what it means to live. Health becomes the “new goddess,” worshipped with a single-minded obsession, while the deeper aspects of life—love, joy, creativity, and connection—are left behind. People may live longer and more physically optimized lives, but they find themselves spiritually and emotionally empty.
In this sense, modern capitalism not only exploits individuals for their labor but also exploits them for their health, reducing their worth to a mere function of vitality. This is a dangerous development, as it perpetuates a cycle of endless self-optimization, where life becomes nothing more than a race to survive, rather than to truly live. Han’s critique of capitalism is a call to remember that life is about more than just survival; it is about finding purpose, meaning, and connection in a world that increasingly values nothing but productivity.
Conclusion: Embracing Negativity in a Positive World
Byung-Chul Han’s analysis of the achievement society is both a critique and a wake-up call. While we are promised endless freedom and opportunity, the reality is that these very promises lead us down a path of self-destruction. The relentless pursuit of success, the obsession with self-improvement, and the hyperattention demanded by modern technology all contribute to the burnout that has become ubiquitous in contemporary life.
To break free from this cycle, we must learn to embrace “negativity”—the spaces of silence, boredom, and reflection that allow us to step outside the constant grind. It is only by reclaiming our attention and our ability to simply “be” that we can escape the tyranny of the achievement society and restore meaning to our lives.