06. The Right Effort: What Bacteria and Barbie Taught Me About Burnout

Artwork by Galit Shachaf

In our culture, 'try harder' is the default solution for everything. We're taught to push until we break, glorifying burnout and business as badges of honour. But what if the wisest move isn't to push harder, but to know when to stop?

I recently attended a 10-day Buddhist meditation course, one of the more profound experiences I’ve had. One thing that struck a real chord in me was the philosophy of "right effort."

In Buddhist philosophy, "right effort" is a core principle of the Noble Eightfold Path. It’s about consciously cultivating wholesome qualities while letting go of unwholesome ones.

Yet, as someone shaped by Western culture, I instinctively translated “right effort” as “maximum effort.” Push harder. Try more. Achieve at all costs. Haven’t we always been taught that the solution to any problem is simply to try harder?

Why do we keep pushing, even when it’s no longer necessary?

This instinct often begins with a genuine survival need where it’s working to our advantage. But what happens when the need is gone, yet the behaviour remains?

Consider Pseudomonas aeruginosa and antibiotic resistance.

For this bacterium, the presence of an antibiotic is an existential threat. Its solution? A clever mechanism called an efflux pump—a kind of cellular bouncer that is located on the bacteria cell wall and actively forces antibiotics out before they can do harm. It’s a brilliantly effective survival skill.

But there’s a catch: running these pumps all the time is costly. It burns through the bacteria’s energy and can even waste important nutrients needed for growth.

Bacteria have evolved to ramp up these defences only when danger is present, and to relax them when it’s not. If they keep the pumps running all the time, especially in a safe, nutrient-rich environment, this once-helpful adaptation becomes a liability.

What can we learn?

This microbial lesson echoed in my own mind during meditation. I found myself trying very hard to push out unwholesome thoughts and long-held self-judgments. The harder I tried, the more exhausted I became—like being told, “Don’t think of a pink elephant.”

Then I remembered P. aeruginosa. When the threat is gone but the effort continues, resources are needlessly drained. If bacteria keep activating their pumps in a safe environment, they become weak and unfit for the world they actually inhabit.

So how do we know what is the “right effort”?

This is the tricky part. The modern world pushes us in so many contradictory directions—societal expectations, personal ambitions, and the relentless drive to always do more, be more, achieve more.

It’s only fitting that this concept is best describes in a movie about the “perfect” doll, Barbie.

America Ferrera’s character in the Barbie movie captures this perfectly:

“You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin... You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas.”

This monologue resonates because it articulates the impossible tightrope we're asked to walk.

We're running all our pumps, all the time, trying to be everything at once.

The biggest challenge isn’t learning to push harder, but cultivating the wisdom to know when to relax.

The true "right effort" lies in continually evaluating ourselves and our environment—distinguishing real threats from the ghosts of old battles.

Like P. aeruginosa, we risk burnout when we keep our pumps running on overdrive for threats that no longer exist. Sometimes, the most skilful thing we can do is to let go.

Next
Next

05. Death Cap Mushroom Toxins, Baggage, and Becoming.