The Cult of the Entrepreneur: Hustle Culture and the Myth of Meritocracy

Startups as Modern Religion: Founders as Prophets, VCs as High Priests

Picture a cathedral. Not one of stone and stained glass, but of glass-walled offices and standing desks. The air hums with the sound of keyboards clattering like prayer wheels, and the congregation bows not to a deity, but to a ping from Slack. At the altar stands the entrepreneur, the prophet of this modern faith, preaching the gospel of disruption. Their sermons are peppered with buzzwords: “scalability,” “pivot,” “burn rate.” The faithful — employees, interns, and freelancers — listen with rapt attention, hoping to catch a glimpse of the promised land: IPO day.

And then there are the high priests: the venture capitalists. They sit in their Sand Hill Road tabernacles, dispensing blessings in the form of seed rounds and Series A funding. Their robes are not made of silk but of Patagonia vests, and their holy texts are term sheets. To gain their favour, one must perform the sacred rituals: the pitch deck, the traction metrics, the hockey-stick growth chart. But beware, for their blessings are fickle. One misstep, one missed KPI, and you are cast out into the wilderness of bootstrapping.

This is the religion of the startup, a faith built on the belief that through sheer will, caffeine, and a well-timed tweet, one can ascend to the heavens of unicorn status. But like all religions, it demands sacrifice. Sleep, relationships, mental health — all are offered up on the altar of ambition. And for what? The chance to join the elect, the chosen few who “made it.”

Yet, as with any faith, there is a darker side to this devotion. The startup ecosystem thrives on a peculiar kind of hope, one that borders on desperation. It is a hope that whispers, “If only you work harder, if only you hustle more, you too can be saved.” But salvation, in this context, is a mirage. For every Elon Musk, there are thousands of founders who toil in obscurity, their dreams dashed by market forces, bad timing, or simply the whims of those high priests with the cheque books.

Why “Just Work Harder” is a Lie Sold to the Masses

The mantra of hustle culture is simple: work harder, sleep less, grind endlessly. It is a seductive narrative, one that promises rewards commensurate with effort. But like a dodgy used car salesman, it glosses over the fine print. The truth is, hard work is not the great equaliser it is made out to be. It is a lottery ticket, not a guarantee.

Consider the story of the ant and the grasshopper. In the traditional fable, the ant works tirelessly all summer, storing food for the winter, while the grasshopper frolics and starves. But in the modern retelling, the ant works just as hard, only to have its stash raided by a passing squirrel (read: venture capitalist) who promises to “scale” its efforts. Meanwhile, the grasshopper lands a viral TikTok deal and retires to a beach in Bali.

The lie of “just work harder” is that it ignores the structural inequalities that shape our lives. It assumes a level playing field, where everyone starts from the same place and has access to the same resources. But this is a fantasy. The reality is that who you know, where you were born, and what you look like often matter more than how many hours you put in.

For example, the archetypal founder in the world of tech startups is a young, white, male Stanford graduate with a network of wealthy friends and family. This is not an accident. It is the result of a system that rewards privilege as much as, if not more than, talent. The myth of meritocracy obscures this reality, convincing us that those at the top deserve to be there, while those at the bottom simply didn’t hustle hard enough.

But let’s not mistake hustle for virtue. There is nothing inherently noble about working yourself to the bone. In fact, it is often a sign of a broken system, one that exploits labour and glorifies suffering. The true measure of success should not be how much you can endure, but how much you can thrive.

The Reality of Who Gets Funded and Who Gets Left Behind

If the startup world is a game, then the rules are rigged. The dice are loaded, the cards are marked, and the house always wins. The players who make it to the final round are not necessarily the best or the brightest; they are the ones who know how to play the game.

Venture capital is not a meritocracy; it is a network. The vast majority of funding goes to a small group of founders who fit a very specific profile. They are often graduates of elite universities, with connections to the right people and a knack for storytelling. They know how to sell a vision, even if that vision is little more than a PowerPoint slide and a prayer.

Meanwhile, founders from underrepresented backgrounds — women, people of colour, those from working-class families — are left scrambling for scraps. They are told to “bootstrap,” to “prove traction,” to “do more with less.” But the truth is, no amount of bootstrapping can level the playing field. The barriers to entry are too high, the gatekeepers are too powerful.

And then there are those who are left behind entirely. The ones who never get a seat at the table, let alone a chance to pitch. They are the invisible casualties of the startup boom, the ones who pour their hearts into ideas that never see the light of day. Their stories are rarely told, their struggles rarely acknowledged.

This is the dirty secret of the startup world: it is not a meritocracy. It is a club, and not everyone is invited.

The funding landscape is a stark reflection of systemic inequality. According to a 2022 report by Diversity VC, only 1% of venture capital in the UK goes to Black founders, and just 2% to all-ethnic minority teams. Women founders fare slightly better but still receive only 2% of total VC funding globally. These statistics are not anomalies; they are symptoms of a deeply entrenched system that favours the familiar over the innovative.

For example, the case of Arlan Hamilton, founder of Backstage Capital. Hamilton, a Black, queer woman, started her venture fund while homeless, using her last dollars to invest in underrepresented founders. Her story is inspiring, but it also highlights the absurdity of the system: why should someone have to be homeless to prove their worth as an investor?

The barriers to entry are not just financial; they are cultural. The startup world thrives on a language of exclusivity, from the “warm intros” required to get a meeting with a VC to the unspoken rules of networking at conferences. For those outside the inner circle, these barriers can feel insurmountable.
But it’s not just about who gets funded; it’s also about who gets left behind. The stories of these founders — brilliant, driven, but overlooked — are a testament to the human cost of systemic inequality. They are the ones who pour their hearts into ideas that never see the light of day, not because they lack talent or vision, but because they lack access.

The Human Cost of Hustle Culture

Hustle culture doesn’t just exploit individuals; it perpetuates inequality on a societal level. By glorifying overwork, it creates a race to the bottom where only the privileged can afford to compete. Those with financial safety nets can take risks, work long hours, and weather the inevitable failures. Those without are left scrambling, often sacrificing their health and well-being in the process.

The mental health impact is staggering. A 2021 study by the University of Cambridge found that entrepreneurs are 50% more likely to report a mental health condition than the general population. Depression, anxiety, and burnout are endemic in the startup world, yet they are often dismissed as the price of ambition.

I once knew a founder who worked 100-hour weeks for two years straight. He ate all his meals at his desk, slept under his standing desk, and rarely saw his family. His startup raised millions, but by the time it exited, he was a shell of a person. He had sacrificed everything — his health, his relationships, his sense of self — on the altar of success. And for what? A line on his LinkedIn profile and a bank account that couldn’t buy back what he had lost.

This is the dark side of hustle culture. It convinces us that we are invincible, that we can outwork our problems. But the truth is, we can’t. Burnout is not a badge of honour; it is a warning sign.

This is not just a personal tragedy; it’s a societal one. When we glorify overwork, we normalise exploitation. We create a culture where burnout is seen as a rite of passage, rather than a warning sign. And we perpetuate a system that rewards privilege over talent, leaving countless brilliant minds on the sidelines.

A Better Way Forward

So how do we fix this? How do we create a more inclusive, equitable ecosystem that values well-being as much as ambition?

Policy Changes: Governments can play a crucial role in levelling the playing field. Tax incentives for funds that invest in underrepresented founders, grants for early-stage startups, and stricter regulations on workplace practices could all help create a fairer system.

Tax Incentives: Governments could offer tax breaks to venture capital firms that allocate a certain percentage of their funds to underrepresented founders. For example, a 10% tax reduction for funds that invest at least 20% in startups led by women or minorities.

Grants and Subsidies: Governments could establish grant programs specifically for early-stage startups led by underrepresented founders, reducing the reliance on venture capital.

Workplace Regulations: Stricter enforcement of labour laws, such as mandatory paid time off and limits on overtime, could help prevent burnout and create a healthier work culture.

Redefining Success: We need to move away from the narrow definition of success as funding rounds and exit valuations. Instead, we should celebrate impact, innovation, and sustainability. A successful business is not just one that makes money; it’s one that makes a difference.

Personal Responsibility: As someone who runs six successful businesses, I’ve learned the hard way that hustle is not a sustainable strategy. Success is not about working harder; it’s about working smarter. It’s about building a life that balances ambition with well-being, and recognising that your worth is not tied to your productivity.

Balancing Ambition and Well-being: Running six businesses while still in school has taught me the importance of time management and prioritisation. I’ve learned to delegate tasks, set boundaries, and make time for rest and self-care.

Navigating Systemic Inequality: As a young entrepreneur, I’ve faced my share of challenges, from sceptical investors to biased assumptions about my capabilities. But I’ve also learned the power of perseverance and the importance of building a strong support network.

Broader Societal Impact

Hustle culture doesn’t just affect individuals or even entire industries; it has far-reaching implications for society as a whole.

Global Impact: In developing economies, the gig economy often mirrors the worst aspects of hustle culture. Workers in countries like India and Nigeria are forced to work long hours for low pay, with little job security or benefits. The rise of platforms like Uber and Deliveroo has created a race to the bottom, where workers are pitted against each other in a relentless pursuit of more gigs.

Consumerism and Meritocracy: The myth of meritocracy is perpetuated by consumer culture, which tells us that success is just a purchase away. From self-help books to productivity apps, we are sold the idea that if we just buy the right product, we can achieve our dreams. But this is a lie. Success is not a commodity; it is a collective effort that requires systemic change.

The Emperor’s New Hoodie

In the end, the cult of the entrepreneur is like the emperor’s new clothes. We are told to admire the finery, to aspire to the heights, to believe in the dream. But if we look closely, we see that the emperor is wearing a hoodie and jeans, and the dream is built on sand.

It is time to stop worshipping at the altar of hustle and start building something real. Something sustainable. Something human. Because the truth is, we are more than our productivity. We are more than our startups. We are more than the sum of our hustle.

And that is a truth worth working for.

S xoxo

Written in Paris, France

14th February 2025