I'm not doing 996.

I work at one of the fastest-moving AI companies in the world, and I love my job. I’d go as far as saying it’s my hobby (which probably says something concerning about my hobbies). I’m also a mom of two, and raising my kids is the most important part of my life. I have no intention of choosing between my work and being a parent. Which seems like a controversial position in AI companies these days.

AI is amplifying tech’s favorite competitive sport: who can work the most. Now, having a ‘996’ culture (working 9am to 9pm, 6 days a week) is starting to be worn as a badge of honor. Like you’re not taking it seriously if you’re putting in 70 hour weeks.

I’m not buying it.

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There’s a big difference between working hard with working all the time.

And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one: I keep having the same conversation with super talented people who are excited about AI but hesitant to join AI companies because they have kids. And I get it. Tech has always had a hustle-bro problem, but the AI era seems to have taken it to another level. So what, the price of building a generational company is not having time to raise the next generation??? whut? That’s a pretty ridiculous tradeoff to expect people to make.

Look, I have absolutely nothing against people who want to work 996. I’ve had those phases in my own career. If that’s what you want to do with your time, go for it. More power to you. But let’s not confuse the willingness to work insane hours with ambition, commitment, and even talent. Please don’t do that.

And the irony is that this is happening in the very industry that’s supposed to be making all of us oh so very much more productive.

So I think we need to have a more nuanced conversation about what sustainable ambition actually looks like. Because the choice shouldn’t be between having major impact at work and having a life outside of work. Avoiding 996 should not disqualify anyone from participating in the AI revolution.

996 is not a competitive advantage.

There’s something so ironic about the AI industry’s obsession with extreme working hours. We’re building technology that can automate entire categories of work and make small teams capable of accomplishing what previously took entire organizations. Yet somehow, the humans building all this are expected to work more hours than ever.

Make it make sense.

Of course, I understand the dynamics. AI is one of the biggest technological opportunities of our lifetime. The competitive window feels compressed, and every company is racing to capture as much of the value as possible. When your competitors can ship in days what used to take months, you feel an enormous amount of pressure to move faster. I experience that pressure every single day.

But I keep seeing this: Every time technology makes us more productive, we simply raise our expectations. A project that used to take 6 months now takes 6 weeks? Amazing! Let’s do 10 of them! And maybe another 5, because surely our competitors are doing 15.

So AI might eliminate a lot of work, but I’m starting to doubt that it will eliminate much working.

So for all these companies doing 996 by default… is that actually building a competitive advantage or just getting ahead by convincing the employees to borrow from their future selves?

Think about it. You’re getting more output today by consuming someone’s future health, relationships, and capacity to perform. The company captures the short-term upside, while employees eventually pay the interest through burnout, deteriorating health, and missed life they can’t get back. And unlike financial debt, this particular liability doesn’t show up on anyone’s balance sheet. Convenient.

I’m not arguing that working more than 40 hours is bad or that everyone should clock out at 5pm sharp. There absolutely will be and should be intense sprints to finish something and get the job done against a deadline. Sometimes there are launches, emergencies, or opportunities that actually deserve everything you’ve got. But there’s a difference between sprinting when you really need to and designing an org where everyone is expected to sprint all the time, forever.

If your company can only win by requiring everyone to work 996, maybe the problem isn’t that your employees lack ambition. Maybe your company hasn’t figured out how to prioritize.

We’re filtering out the exact people we need

There’s another problem with normalizing 996: You’re telling a massive portion of the workforce that they need not apply. Parents are an obvious example, but the same is true for people caring for family members, people with health constraints, or frankly anyone who has built a life they actually enjoy outside of work.

That is a terrible business strategy.

Your product is going to reflect the perspectives of the people who build it. If you make it practically impossible for anyone with significant responsibilities outside work to join your company, you’re totally narrowing the range of human experiences represented on your team. You’re also excluding a lot of experienced people who have already made the mistakes you’re inevitably headed toward.

I actually think having constraints outside work makes you a better operator.

When you know you need to leave at 5:30 or your kid will be stranded at soccer practice, you get real good at identifying meetings that do not need to happen. You have to delegate or deprioritize. When there’s a hard line on your schedule, you develop a clearer understanding of what’s really important and what just feels urgent because someone senior is stressed about something unrelated.

Which doesn’t mean that being a parent automatically makes you more productive or that people without kids are somehow worse at prioritization. But having constraints forces a level of discipline that unlimited availability does not. If you’re gonna be in the office until midnight anyway, why not explore that random detour?

I’m living this

I work at Lovable, easily the fastest-moving company I’ve ever been part of. And I’ve worked at some pretty intense companies. The pace is insane, expectations are high, and the sheer volume of opportunities can be overwhelming. Some of my colleagues are absolutely doing 996, possibly even 997.

And I love working here. I’m learning and working on problems I really care about, and surrounded by incredibly talented people. But I generally don’t work nights or weekends.

Those nights and weekends are when I’m a mom. That time is blocked on my calendar, along with my mandatory gym time, which is also non-negotiable if anyone wants to interact with a reasonably pleasant version of me. I want to cook dinner, take my kids to their sports, help with homework, or just... gasp... read a book.

And even with Lovable’s unreal growth rate, those boundaries have been respected.

But I also recognize that I’m in a privileged position. I’ve spent years building my career, I have credibility, and I’m comfortable saying no. Someone earlier in their career, trying to establish themselves in a hypercompetitive environment, might not feel nearly as empowered to make the same choices.

That’s why I don’t think the answer can be to just tell employees to set better boundaries. Companies have to create a culture where those boundaries are actually respected, and where people aren’t somehow penalized for having them.

The actual test of a company’s commitment to sustainable working practices isn’t whether the top execs can leave early to pick up their kids. It’s whether junior employees feel they can do the same without sacrificing their careers.

Still, no matter how supportive your company is, I think there’s an uncomfortable truth we all need to acknowledge:

Nobody is going to protect your time but you

A company’s incentives and yours are never going to be perfectly aligned. Its job is to grow, compete, and create value. And especially in AI, where it feels like the opportunity is moving at light speed, none of the companies want to voluntarily slow down.

Sure, companies offer unlimited vacation, flexible schedules, wellness stipends, and all sorts of lovely benefits. But when the next big launch is 3 weeks away and everyone is freaking out, nobody is going to appear at your desk and gently suggest that perhaps you should spend more time with your family.

If you’re willing to give your company 12 hours, I promise someone will find 12 hours of problems for you to solve. If you’re willing to give 16, congratulations! We’ve discovered 4 additional hours of problems! And somehow there’s still going to be an enormous backlog of things that didn’t get done.

The demands never stop. So at some point, you have to decide how much of yourself you’re willing to give.

This is where a lot of people, myself included, get into trouble. It’s so easy to develop a codependent relationship with your job. You keep overriding your own boundaries because the work is important, your teammates need you, and you care so much about the outcome. Eventually, you become resentful because the company never seems satisfied. Then you leave for another job, hoping the next one will somehow respect your time more.

But unless you change your own behavior, there’s a good chance you’ll recreate the exact same situation.

I’ve learned this the hard way. And I’ve developed a few principles that help me manage it.

1. Stop trying to achieve work-life balance

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I hate the term ‘work-life balance.’ It makes it sound like we’re supposed to maintain some perfectly calibrated 50/50 split between work and everything else. 8 hours of work, 8 hours of life, and 8 hours of sleep. Every day. Forever. As if we’re somehow not alive while working, but that’s a separate philosophical discussion.

That’s not how life works. And frankly, it’s not how I want my life to work.

There are periods when work is going to take up more of your time. When I start a new job, I’m usually completely consumed by it for the first month or two. I’m learning, building relationships, trying to understand the business, and figuring out where I can have the biggest impact. That’s not a great time to pick up a new hobby or insist that every week looks exactly the same.

There are also phases when something outside work deserves more of your attention. Your kids need you, you’re dealing with something personal, or maybe you’ve simply spent the last few months running at full speed and need some time to recharge.

I’ve learned that my own energy comes in waves. Some weeks I’m completely all in. Other weeks I intentionally slow things down, spend more time with my kids, and give my brain a chance to recover. For example, public speaking drains me. After a stretch of events and travel, my poor introverted brain feels like someone left 40 browser tabs open and then tried to run a software update where something fails to shut down. If I don’t give myself some downtime, I become so much less effective at everything.

So instead of trying to maintain perfect balance every day, just recognize what season you’re in, make deliberate choices about your priorities, and avoid letting a temporary sprint become your permanent way of life.

2. Use the 5-year regret test

This is probably the single most useful exercise I’ve developed for managing competing priorities.

A while back, I noticed a pattern. I’d make a decision that seemed completely reasonable in the moment, only to regret it later. And almost always, the regret came from missing something with my kids, not from missing something at work.

I think the reason is pretty simple: Work is real good at manufacturing urgency. There are deadlines, problems to solve, smart people who have a lot invested in the outcome, and usually some kind of reward for being the person who steps up. Say yes to work, and you’ll be celebrated. Maybe even paid more! Meanwhile, family can always wait until later.

Except, it can’t.

So now, when I’m really torn between a work commitment and something personal, I try to mentally remove myself from the immediate situation and ask: Which decision am I more likely to regret 5 years from now?

Sometimes the answer is absolutely that I’d regret missing work!

There have been times when I’ve said no to my kids because a professional opportunity mattered so me. I love what I do, and I want my kids to see what it looks like to be passionate about your work and really commit to something you believe in.

But way more often, this test helps me say no to work without feeling nearly as guilty.

What I struggle with is the idea of compounding regret. Every time you choose something that feels urgent over something you know matters more, you add another small regret to the pile. And eventually, you might look back and realize you’ve spent years prioritizing things you barely remember over experiences you can never recreate.

The funny thing is, most work emergencies stop feeling like emergencies the moment you physically leave the meeting. Somehow the universe keeps functioning. Shocking, I know.

3. Say your boundaries out loud

One thing I’ve learned is that people are generally terrible at respecting boundaries they don’t know exist. Yet so many of us are secretly hoping our employers will somehow figure out what we need.

I try to be very explicit. I tell people when I’m available, when I’m not, and what my non-negotiables are. I don’t pretend that taking my kids to soccer is some mysterious ‘strategic planning’ block on my calendar. I tell people I’m taking my kids to soccer.

We have to normalize this level of transparency, especially as leaders.

A lot of people avoid setting boundaries because they’re afraid of falling behind. What if everyone else is working late? What if the person who’s always online gets promoted? What if saying no makes people question whether you’re committed enough?

Unfortunately, those fears exist for a reason. Plenty of companies do reward availability over impact, even if they claim otherwise. But that’s the tradeoff you have to examine for yourself.

And I’m glad that the AI era is giving us an interesting opportunity to rethink how we measure contribution. Now even an IC (especially a HI-C) can ship prototypes, build features, run campaigns, and produce high-impact work on their own. If output is becoming more visible and measurable, shouldn’t we be getting less obsessed with how many hours someone spends staring at Slack?

I’d much rather be judged on what I accomplish than how often my status bubble is green. And I’d encourage anyone working in AI to push for the same.

Leaders, you’re part of the problem. And the solution.

Sorry, but a leader telling their team, ‘Remember that work-life balance is important!!’ is not enough. What matters is what the leader actually does, themselves.

You can tell your employees to take vacation. You can insist that they should log off at a reasonable hour and spend time with their families. You can publish the most beautiful employee wellness policy known to humanity. But if you’re sending Slack messages at midnight, responding to emails throughout your vacation, and proudly announcing that you’ve worked every weekend for the past 3 months, guess what your team is going to believe?

I’ve seen leaders fall into this trap even with the best of intentions. They think they’re protecting their teams by absorbing all the extra work themselves. And sometimes they are. But more often, they’re unintentionally setting the standard everyone else feels obligated to match.

People pay attention to what gets rewarded, not just what gets said.

If the employees who get promoted are consistently the ones who are always available, then you have a culture that rewards constant availability. If someone delivers exceptional work but gets labeled ‘not committed enough’ because they leave at 5:30, then your flexible work policy is essentially just recruiting copy.

Leaders, it’s time to take more responsibility for this.

Take vacations and actually disconnect. Tell people you’re picking up your kids instead of hiding it behind a ‘focus time’ calendar block. Stop treating every problem like an emergency. Reward people who get exceptional results efficiently, not just the ones who spend the most hours visibly working.

If you’re going to miss your goals if people take the weekend off, you’ve got a pretty fragile organization.

And if you’re wondering why your best people keep burning out after a year or two, maybe don’t immediately assume the solution is to hire people who are even more willing to sacrifice their personal lives.

The future of work is still a choice

I’m pretty sure AI isn’t going to magically give us more free time. In fact, I’m guessing it might do the opposite. As the technology expands what’s possible, our ambitions and expectations will expand right along with it. There will always be more to build, more to ship, and more opportunities to chase.

And I’m not against any of that. I love ambition. I love working with people who are obsessed with what they’re building. I love being part of an industry that’s moving faster than anything I’ve experienced in my career.

But I’m not gonna accept that participating in this revolution requires sacrificing everything else.

If you’re a parent who’s excited about AI but worried about the culture, I wouldn’t write off the industry. We need more experienced people with different perspectives and responsibilities building these products, not fewer. But I’d be very deliberate about choosing where you work, understanding what you’re signing up for, and being upfront about your non-negotiables.

And if you’re leading an AI company, I challenge you to think about whether you’re actually creating a high-performance organization or simply one where people compete to see who can work the longest.

Because here’s the thing: We get to decide what we do with all the productivity AI creates.

We can use it to build extraordinary companies while giving people more agency over their time. Or we can use it to make the hamster wheel spin even faster, while congratulating ourselves on how productive we’ve become.

Personally, I’m going to keep building, keep pushing, and keep obsessing over growth problems that probably don’t deserve quite as much of my attention as I give them.

But I’m not doing 996.

Edited by Jonathan Yagel.

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