Not too long ago, while reading a compilation of Nikolai Gogol’s best works, I came across a story that felt strangely familiar. The Overcoat is the tale of Akaky Akakievich, a man in 19th century Russia, whose quiet, repetitive life shifts dramatically when he becomes consumed by an unexpected goal. But what struck me wasn’t a sense of déjà vu from a similar plot in another story – it was the realization that I see this story play out every single day, all around me. How is it possible that the world has changed so much in almost 200 years, yet still mirrors Akaky’s reality so closely?

Akaky was a simple man, copying documents for a living and repeating the same routine his entire adult life. However, he didn’t seem to mind the Groundhog Day situation he found himself in. He believed his job to be meaningful and worked tirelessly, however, he didn’t receive external appreciation or admiration for his successes at work. Sound familiar? Today, we answer emails at midnight and over-prepare for meetings, hoping someone will notice our effort. We stress about that one misspelled word in that report, or the formula we couldn’t remember during that last test. We constantly sacrifice sleep to cram for exams, perfect assignments, or practice a presentation “just one more time”. Our obsession with the details has become unhealthy, all so we can receive some form of validation, whether it’s the highest grade on a test or a simple reassuring nod from our boss. Like Akaky, we work endlessly for little recognition. Yet, this constant effort often drains us, leaving little energy for anything else. 

Akaky’s monotonous life takes a turn when he finally sets a goal for himself – buying a new coat. It may seem ridiculous to us, but for him, it becomes the reason he gets out of bed every morning. He begins to work harder than ever before, his desire to succeed becoming all-consuming. And just like him, we convince ourselves our ambitions are worth the sleepless nights and relentless stress. We live in a society in which sacrificing our mental and physical well-being is considered normal, an inevitable price for staying afloat in a capitalistic system. We work until we drop because slowing down and taking a breath is synonymous with falling behind; we believe it is a step that puts us in a position from which catching up to others would be impossible. Like a hamster in a wheel, we are trained to push on, even if exhausted, with the end nowhere in sight and our burnout ever-growing. 

The protagonist of The Overcoat reached his goal – he finally had protection from the cold. For the short time he had it, he wasn’t overlooked and laughed at as he was before. For a fleeting moment, Akaky felt seen – his new coat was enough to make others acknowledge him, even admire him. But the respect was as short-lived as the coat itself; the moment it was stolen, it’s owner became invisible once again, all that hard work disappearing in an instant. In the modern world, accomplishments may feel like the warmth of Akaky’s coat, a brief recognition of our determination, a fleeting moment which feels so good, it actually convinces us that being constantly drained and overwhelmed are worth the pay off. But as soon as the applause fades, the fulfilment fades with it. No matter how big the milestone – whether it’s getting into the best university, earning a promotion, or landing a prestigious job – the celebration is short-lived. Bravo. Now, back to the hamster wheel and on to the next goal, because maybe that one will finally be enough to step off the wheel. And just like that, we became trapped in a system where exhaustion is rewarded and burnout becomes a badge of honor. What the system lacks is the ability for one to get off the wheel, to take the time to step back and reflect on whether the sacrifice is truly worth the results. 

Akaky’s story is tragic in its own right, but what I believe to be more tragic is the fact that it sounds like a mild version of our everyday life. Nietzsche’s ‘herd mentality’ is at play here: we’ve collectively accepted the societal norms that glorify overwork without actually questioning their purpose. But what if we stopped treating burnout as proof of being driven and persistent? After all, the coat didn’t give Akaky his worth – he gave it to the coat. If we can recognize this, perhaps we can stop tying our value to endless sacrifice and start living for something more meaningful.