Beyond the Paycheck: 5 Counter-Intuitive Lessons on Purpose from Mario Sergio Cortella
Hey folks! Today I want to share something different. Not code, not architecture, but something that affects every line of code we write: purpose.
I recently read Mario Sergio Cortella’s book “Por que fazemos o que fazemos” (Why We Do What We Do), and it completely rewired how I think about work. Cortella is a Brazilian philosopher—think of him as the Brené Brown of career advice here—and this book is a deep reflection on the meaning behind our daily labor. Let me share 5 lessons that seem obvious but hit different when you really understand them.
1. The Monday Morning Diagnostic: Tiredness or Crisis of the Spirit?
Monday morning, 6:00 AM. Your alarm rings. In that instant of consciousness, your soul performs a visceral reckoning.
If your body pleads for two more hours of sleep, you’re experiencing tiredness—a biological debt from an active weekend that simple rest can settle.
However, if your spirit resists the very idea of the day ahead, if the alarm feels like a summons to an empty ritual, you’re facing stress. And stress, according to Cortella, is not solved by sleep. It’s a profound crisis of purpose.
It’s a moment where the “Why” has evaporated, leaving only the “What.” When you no longer see the reason for your movement, your soul enters a state of anguish. The body moves, but the “I” is missing.
The question to ask yourself: Why do I do what I do?
2. Why Routine is Your Best Friend (But Monotony is a Killer)
We often vilify “routine,” yet it’s actually a liberating force.
Routine consists of standard procedures that ensure safety and existential security. When you board an airplane, you depend on the mechanic’s strict adherence to routine. When you enter a surgical theater, you pray the team follows the established sequence with religious devotion.
Routine is conscious structure.
The true enemy is monotony, which Cortella defines as “automatism” or the “death of motivation.”
While routine is a path, monotony is a treadmill where we no longer pay attention to our steps. The primary symptom? A hollow distraction—the state of reading a page without retaining a word or watching television as if it were “gum for the eyes” (chiclete dos olhos, as Cortella puts it).
You’re consuming without tasting, existing without being present.
3. The “Internal Door” of Motivation and the Power of Recognition
A common corporate fallacy is the belief that managers can “motivate” their teams.
Cortella reminds us that motivation is a door that only opens from the inside. A leader can provide stimulus—external incentives and rewards—but they cannot manufacture the internal spark that moves a person toward a goal.
This internal spark is fueled by recognition, which is a fundamental human need for distinction.
Drawing on Hegel’s concept of “objectifying subjectivity,” we need to see our work “outside” of ourselves to truly know who we are. We seek recognition not for our egos, but to confirm our existence through our obra (work).
When a worker is denied gratitude, they become invisible. Even a simple “Employee of the Month” award, though often mocked as a cliché, serves a metaphysical purpose: it acknowledges that the professional is a distinct subject, not a disposable tool.
4. The “Doing What You Like” Trap: An Ethics of Effort
Modern culture has fallen into a hedonist trap, suggesting that work should be 100% pleasurable.
Cortella is blunt: only an imbecile seeks to do what they dislike, but only a child believes they can only do what they like.
True Excellence is the act of doing more than the mere obligation. Obligation is the starting point, the minimum requirement for survival; excellence is the distance you travel beyond that line.
Purpose makes the inevitable “pain” of the process worthwhile because, as Cortella notes, trabalhar dá trabalho (work takes work).
Consider this anecdote about the legendary pianist Arthur Moreira Lima. After a brilliant performance, a fan exclaimed: “I would give my life to play like you!”
Moreira Lima responded with chilling clarity: “I did.”
The fan saw the beauty of the performance; the artist saw the forty years of ten-hour practices, the sacrifice, and the non-pleasurable effort. Purpose is what allows us to “give our lives” to our craft without feeling depleted.
5. From Alienation to Authorship: Owning the “Obra”
To understand the modern professional’s malaise, we must revisit the concept of Alienation.
In the Hegelian and Marxist sense, the “alienated” worker is a stranger to their own creation. The Latin root Alius means “the strange” or “the other.” When you produce something without understanding its reason or owning its result, you become an alius to yourself.
You become a robota—a term from the Czech for “slave”—a machine that executes without intent.
The antidote is Authorship (Autoria). This is the “spirit of ownership” where a professional sees themselves reflected in their product. Whether you’re a baker, a gardener, or a CEO, authorship is the transition from being a tool to being a creator.
When you own your work, you “objectify your subjectivity,” turning your internal values into a tangible reality. Organizations that foster this spirit prevent humans from becoming “robotas” and instead empower “authors” who find themselves within their daily labor.
The Wisdom of the Crossing
Work is not merely a means of survival; it’s the primary way we mark our presence in the world. We build reality so that we do not “let ourselves die” while we are still alive.
Cortella teaches us that our career goals are not obstacles, but horizons and frontiers.
If you feel a sense of void or anguish in your career, don’t fear it. Recall the sliding tile puzzle: for the pieces to move and create a new image, there must be an empty space. That “void” is the space of possibility; it’s what allows for movement and choice.
A professional who feels “empty” has reached the frontier where they can finally choose their direction.
As you navigate the “crossing” of your professional life, remember that you will one day face the ultimate diagnostic. Imagine being asked:
“What you did, why did you do it? What you didn’t do, why didn’t you do it?”
Would you have an answer that makes your life feel worth the effort?
Purpose is the only answer that satisfies the soul.
That’s it, folks! If this hit something in you, leave a comment. Let’s exchange ideas.