What Andor Teaches Us About Burnout, Revolution, and Building a New Way
How a sci-fi series helped me name the toxic overwork cycle we keep calling “resistance.”
Fun fact: In college, I majored in theatre and designed my own degree in Literary Criticism (thanks, Knox College!) to prepare for a career in film, TV, and theatre criticism. That career didn’t quite pan out. Life happened. After many career iterations, I became a solopreneur burnout recovery coach and fractional COO instead. And yet here I am — combining all the things I love. This June, I’m letting my inner nerd fly free with a new series exploring how shows like Star Wars: Andor, The West Wing, and The X-Files glorify and sometimes challenge grind culture — often in the name of a “good cause.”
⚠️ Spoiler alert: Mild spoilers ahead for Seasons 1 and 2 of the Disney+ series Andor.
Feeling the weight of the world? Same.
This is a rough season of life to be a human. Everyone I know is carrying personal grief and bracing for the next gut-punch in the news cycle. In just a few days, I heard about:
Cuts to SNAP benefits
DEI programs under fire
False claims of genocide (while real genocide happens elsewhere)
A dozen more reasons to grieve
It’s so overwhelming, it’s difficult to stay inspired to fight back. I’ve found it so easy to put my head down, tune out the news feed and just keep doing my everyday work. The resistance will have to wait until I finish my to do list.
And then something shook me awake.
Enter: Andor.
This gritty, grounded Star Wars spinoff had me fully geeking out — and also rethinking everything about how we resist oppression. Read on …
The Empire’s Favorite Weapon? False Hope.
If you’re new to Andor, here’s the premise: The show tells the origin story of Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), one of the spies who steals the Death Star plans before A New Hope. But Andor isn’t just backstory — it’s a layered, sobering exploration of how oppressive systems keep us docile with promises of reward, progress and security.
In one of my favorite arcs from Season 1, Cassian is imprisoned for doing basically nothing, at least in front of the authorities who pick him up. The labor camp where he lands is engineered to pit prisoners against each other — using “the program” to push them to work faster to make parts for the Death Star for paltry rewards and the real threats of painful punishment.
Quickly, Cassian realizes the guards are few compared to the numbers of prisoners — because the Empire doesn’t need guards when the prisoners have bought into their lie. Most of the inmates still believe that if they just do their time, they’ll get to go home.
But there is no release. They learn that prisoners only get transfers to new prison units or extended sentences — an endless cycle of labor.
When Cassian finally exposes this truth, the prisoners rise up and escape — a resistance that was always possible, but never acted on until they gave up hope in the Empire’s system.
Sound familiar?
We’re taught that if we just hustle hard enough, we’ll be rewarded with success, security and happiness. But the so-called American Dream often traps us in the grind culture we think we want to avoid — one where people’s labor is extracted for someone else’s gain.
I’m writing this from a Starbucks — watching bright, kind baristas get overworked for far too little pay. Many are here because of the company’s LGBTQ+ affirming policies. And yet, when they organize for better conditions and pay, they’re met with resistance, not reward.
When the Rebellion Starts Looking Like the Empire
By Season 2, we’ve seen more of the inner workings of both the Empire and the Rebellion. The Empire is no surprise — it’s crushing entire planets for minerals to supply the power for its weaponry and cultures for its military outposts. What’s more sobering is how many of its middle managers keep the machine running, chasing career prestige and avoiding personal risk.
