Durham, 26 years old, is one of many social-media career influencers who have risen to fame by sharing tips about work with a casual, accessible tone. Regardless of their locations, these content creators often adopt a similar style: Filming themselves talking to the camera about topics such as how to stand out in the interviews, negotiate salaries, handle performance reviews and communicate with managers.

While career coaching is not a new industry, experts say social media provides a new way to deliver this information that’s particularly appealing to young workers right now. Mary Chayko, a professor at Rutgers University, says seeking advice on social media feels more convenient and efficient to young people.

Even if influencers lack their own extended professional tenure (终身职位), and often don’t hold coaching certificates, experts say they have qualities that make followers trust them. Their transparency (透明性) makes them feel largely accessible and easy-going. Their casual style appeals to audiences, because it offers glimpses into who they are as people. “Not being too polished in the way that you present yourself is another indicator that you are somebody who can be trusted,” Chayko says.

While social media advice can be motivating, it has its limitatıons. Videos on Instagram and TikTok tend to be fairly broad, relying on generalizations about culture and human behavior that may not apply to a person’s individual situation. Moreover, many of the decision-makers in the workforce belong to older generations, meaning that young workers ability to understand the values of these leaders will also be important. Relying solely on younger coaches could narrow their knowledge scope (范围).

Yet for young workers, following career influencers may be as much enterprisıng as it is practical. Influencers demonstrate an idealized work persona (职场人士形象), conveying a sense of control and confidence that many people long for in their professional lives.

The daughter of a friend of mine recently left university and entered into the world of work, taking on a temporary office job. At the end of her first week at work, she phoned home in tears and complained to her mother, "There's no time to do anything else. I'm so tired when I get home in the evenings that all I can do is watching TV. Then I have to rise early the next morning and do it again! If this is what work is like, I don't want to spend my whole life doing it!"

We take it for granted that work must be a major part of our lives—in fact, for many people, it's the primary aspect of our lives. We define ourselves and measure our happiness in terms of how successful we are in these roles. Normally, 40 hours a week, 48 weeks a year, for up to 50 years—not including traveling time and the time we spend resting.

Is this really what we were born for? Is this really what life should be about?

Of course, if you're lucky, you might have a satisfying job which suits your inborn interests and skills, and which is challenging and inspiring. In that case, your job may provide you with what psychologists call "flow"—a state of intense absorption, which makes you feel engaged and alive. Perhaps the majority of people aren't that lucky and do jobs which are repetitive and boring. But I would argue that, even if your job does provide you with "flow", work should just be an aspect of our lives, rather than its defining feature. Working 40 hours a week makes our lives become narrow and restricted, so we lose sight of other possibilities. There's so much to learn in life, so many different ways to develop, so many experiences to absorb, so many activities and adventures to enjoy, but while we spend so much time working, it's difficult to find time and energy for these.

It feels like every time my mother and I start to have a conversation, it turns into an argument. We talk about something as simple as dinner plans and suddenly, my mother will push the conversation into World War 3. She’ll talk about my lack of bright future because I don’t plan to be a doctor. And much to her disappointment, I don’t want to do any job related to science, either. In fact, when I was pushed to say that I planned to major (主修) in English and communications, she nearly had a heart attack.

“Why can’t you be like my co-worker’s son?” she bemoans all the time. Her coworker’s son received a four-year scholarship and is now earning 70,000 dollars a year as an engineer. I don’t know what to answer except that I simply can’t be like Mr. Perfect as I’ve called the unnamed co-worker’s son. I can’t be like him. I am the type of the person who loved to help out in the community, write until the sun goes down, and most of all, wants to achieve a career because I love it, not because of a fame or salary.

I understand why my mother is worried about my future major. I’ve seen my mother struggle to raise me on her small salary and work long hours. She leaves the house around 6:30 am and usually comes home around 5 pm or even 6pm. However, I want her to know that by becoming a doctor, it doesn’t mean I’ll be successful. I’d rather follow my dreams and create my own future.