Look Beyond the Surface 

Getahun Assefa Tessema 

A 34-year-old Ethiopian journalist, TV show producer, and host 

What makes a job meaningful? The answer is far from universal. For some, it’s the stability of a pay cheque and a clear path for career growth. For others, it’s the thrill of pursuing a passion, the satisfaction of making a tangible impact, or the freedom to exercise creativity. And increasingly, younger workers are placing value on a balance that allows life outside work to flourish. 

Meaning at work is deeply personal. Take the teacher who lights up when a student finally “gets it,” or the software developer whose code solves a real-world problem for example. For them, meaning is less about the title or salary and more about the ripple effects of their contributions. Even within the same role, what feels meaningful to one person may feel mundane or draining to another. That’s why knowing what drives you personally is so important. It’s what keeps work from feeling empty over time. 

So, how meaningful is my job? It’s deeply meaningful, even when it is difficult. As a media person, I can reach millions through my platforms, tell stories that matter, and highlight perspectives that often go unheard. When someone messages to say a story changed the way they think, it gives a deep sense of satisfaction. 

But does every job need to be “meaningful”? Not at all. Some roles are stepping stones - necessary but temporary - giving you the foundation, financing or experience, for work that excites you more. Even mundane tasks have lessons: discipline, patience, resilience. These are the skills you carry forward into the work that truly inspires you. 

For those who feel stuck in purposeless work, my message is simple: look beyond the surface. Try to find ways to connect your tasks to what matters to you, reach out to colleagues who inspire you, or explore a new skill on the side. Meaning doesn’t always show up fully formed. It’s something you build gradually, piece by piece. 

From my experience, a job becomes truly meaningful not because of the title or pay cheque, but because of the growth, impact, and satisfaction it quietly creates. Noticing even small wins along the way is often what turns work into something genuinely rewarding. 

Meaning Lies in the Process 

Hu Wanying 

A 30-year-old marketing specialist in Beijing 

When we speak of meaningful work, I’m reminded of a book and a public lecture from Fudan University. In Bullshit Jobs, David Graeber uses a mind as sharp as a scalpel to expose the absurdity woven into modern workplaces, where countless people spend their lives behind screens performing tasks they know, deep down, are insignificant. Clad in tailored suits and polished heels, they assemble documents and attend meetings not to reshape the world, but to preserve an illusion their organisations depend upon - an illusion of importance, order, and justified authority. In such a system, meaning becomes unnecessary, and the workplace turns into a vast machine where every cog glints briefly yet remains unseen. 

Professor Liang Yong’an’s lecture titled “The Pain of Work” reveals another kind of quiet suffering that shadows many young people today: the struggle to discern the boundaries of one’s labour - and of oneself - in an age of relentless acceleration. We finish tasks without knowing what they change or where they lead. In this abstract, fragmented labour, people lose themselves in the question, why am I doing any of this? And eventually, they stop asking. These two voices - one dissecting the system, the other tending to the inner life - meet at the same point: the loss of meaning is not a personal failing, but a condition of our time. 

Now we stand at the threshold of an even greater upheaval. Will this new era make work more meaningful? Many hope intelligent tools will remove repetitive, low-value tasks, freeing us to focus on imaginative, creative, and strategic work. But reality may not unfold so neatly. These tools will perform tasks with startling efficiency and replace many human roles, yet organisations are unlikely to shrink simply because the work is easier - nor will they eliminate absurdity. New layers of formality may emerge to justify human presence. People will keep playing their parts, but those parts may feel thinner and more detached from real impact. 

Meaninglessness, then, is unlikely to disappear. So we must ask: are we still necessary and must a job be meaningful? And if so, where does meaning come from? My belief is this: not every role carries inherent meaning, but meaning can be found - slowly and quietly - in the work itself. As Professor Liang has said, “Meaning is not handed out by the world; it grows gradually out of our own actions.” Tools can process information, but they cannot touch the soul. Only we can answer the ancient question: why do I live? And for me, the answer lives in the process itself.