Not everyone is hungry for the corner office

[SINGAPORE] Singaporeans, known for being self-proclaimed foodies, have been talking about a different kind of hunger these days. 

A quick search for “Singaporeans hungry” no longer pulls up the usual listicles of must-try eats. Instead, it leads to a flood of articles dissecting a legal recruiter’s recent claims that young Singaporean employees today should be hungrier and more paranoid. 

Are Singaporeans today really not hungry enough? 

If hunger means relentlessly climbing the corporate ladder and aiming for the highest-paying title, I wouldn’t consider myself particularly hungry. 

As a student, I did my fair share of internships – two – and spent a lot of time figuring out what career I wanted to pursue. I spoke to people in industries I was curious about, entered writing competitions and worked on some personal projects outside school.

But I also spent my holidays pursuing hobbies, travelling and spending time with friends.

Even after landing my current role at The Business Times, I occasionally wondered whether I deserved it as much as some of my peers. 

They collected more internships and had more impressive portfolios. Even after landing their first job, they’re constantly looking for the next opportunity. 

What does hunger mean?

As I spoke to my peers about this subject, it became clear to me that no one seems to agree on what “hunger” actually means.  

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One civil servant described it as stepping up beyond her job scope to become more visible in her workplace. A fresh graduate tells me hunger means mastering her craft in her role, while a university student says his hunger is in finding a job that leaves room for hobbies and life outside the office. 

Colin Tan, a third-year student at Singapore Management University, defines hunger as having a genuine curiosity and interest in their work.  

“I don’t think hunger immediately equates to hustling.” 

All of these definitions are valid, and I don’t think one is necessarily better than the other. 

Yet, discussions about hunger often default to a very specific image of a person who says yes to every demand, works the longest hours and is constantly putting work above all else.

If that’s the only definition we recognise, then it’s no surprise that many people feel like they fall short. 

Are young Singaporeans hungry?   

Still, my immediate reaction whenever somebody says that young workers are not hungry is one of confusion. 

From where I stand, I don’t think we’re any less career-driven than previous generations. 

In my first year of university, my batchmates were already fighting tooth and nail for internships. Many graduated with multiple internships and side projects on their portfolios. 

Even semester exchange programmes, often seen as a chance to travel and take a break from academic pressure, weren’t necessarily a pause from the hustle. 

Douglas Toh, 26, tells me how he spent his exchange digitalising his home university’s lost-and-found system.   

“It definitely seemed weird to some of my friends that I was still trying to hustle while on exchange, but to me it was another project I could add to my portfolio,” he says. 

He also began grinding coding interview questions after noticing his peers doing the same. Some, he adds, were even practising coding questions while on holiday. 

He eventually landed a job as a research engineer, but continues to conduct research independently to upgrade his portfolio – sometimes even without pay. 

With the amount of effort they put into upskilling themselves even before graduation, it’s no wonder that the hunger debate struck a nerve among young Singaporeans. 

We were tossed into adulthood at a time of high-profile retrenchments and warnings of artificial intelligence threatening entry-level jobs and even entire industries. 

Those fears were reflected in a recent ADP Singapore report, which found that less than a fifth of Singaporean workers feel secure in their jobs as AI reshapes roles. That figure falls below the Asia-Pacific and global average.  

Casey (not her real name) says she feels wronged when older workers criticise younger employees for expecting a higher salary.

“Some of them fail to realise that many of us are entering the workforce with more than a year’s worth of internship experience,” she says. 

“We demand higher pay because we work hard for it. And others may not understand how difficult it is to secure those internships, let alone do well in them.” 

Is being hungry everything?

Even if we accept that hunger is valuable, should it be the trait that we value most?

Most organisations can’t function if they’re made up entirely of future CEOs. They also need specialists and teammates who can be counted on to consistently deliver good work. 

Some people want to be exceptional at a craft. Others want meaningful work, financial stability, or simply a job that fits the life they want to build.

That doesn’t mean they can’t be good at their job, or that they’ll be bad hires. 

A lack of traditional ambition doesn’t necessarily equate to complacency. It could simply reflect different priorities. 

What hunger means today

Throughout my university years, I secretly envied the hustlers of my batch.

When I saw how hard they were working while balancing their academics, I questioned whether I lacked ambition, or was too relaxed about my future career. 

However, my mindset towards hunger has shifted since entering the workforce. I am less interested in judging myself against others’ ideas of hunger.  

To some, it may seem like I lack the drive others have, but it shows up in different ways, whether it’s taking on new tasks, asking questions or trying to improve at what I do.  

Looking around at my peers today, I don’t see a lack of hunger.

What I see is people working hard towards very different versions of success. Some are hungry for promotions. Others are hungry for mastery, stability, flexibility or meaning.

And I think we’ve mistaken one kind of hunger for the only kind that matters.