Hanging on for dear work – the rise of the job hugger.
Image: Morgan Morgan / DALL-E / DFA
REMEMBER when everyone was “quiet quitting”? That short-lived rebellion where workers decided they’d had enough of unpaid overtime, weekend WhatsApps from the boss, and “family” meetings that weren’t remotely familial?
Well, it seems the age of quiet quitting has quietly quit. The new buzzword making the rounds in offices and HR chatrooms is job hugging — and it’s exactly what it sounds like: clinging to your job for dear life, even if you’ve fallen out of love with it.
“Quiet quitting” became the anthem of 2022 — a viral TikTok-fuelled declaration that employees would no longer go “above and beyond” for employers who didn’t return the favour. It resonated across the globe, including here in South Africa, as workers drew firmer boundaries between office hours and off-the-clock life.
But as economic uncertainty, retrenchments and inflation spread, something changed. By 2023, Google searches for “quiet quitting” had plummeted, and a new trend emerged: people were hanging onto their jobs like shipwreck survivors clutching driftwood.
Enter the era of job hugging — where fear of the unknown has replaced the freedom of choice.
If quiet quitting was mentally checking out, job hugging is physically staying put — no matter how uninspired you feel. Analysts say it’s driven by fear rather than loyalty: fear of a tough job market, of retrenchments, of AI taking over your duties before your coffee break is done.
A 2025 global survey found that nearly half of employees now identify as “job huggers”. Most say they stay not because they’re happy, but because they’re cautious. Inflation, hiring freezes, and economic jitters have convinced workers that even a bad job is better than no job.
On paper, this “Great Stay” sounds like a dream for employers: low turnover, institutional knowledge intact, and fewer onboarding headaches.
But HR experts warn it’s a double-edged sword. A workforce that stays purely out of fear risks sliding into complacency. Creativity stalls, morale dips, and eventually, when the economy recovers, you get what one expert calls the Big Snap — an exodus of frustrated employees finally ready to leave.
Still, job hugging isn’t entirely bleak. Some see it as a pause — a collective deep breath after years of turmoil. It’s a time to stabilise, re-skill, and rebuild trust in workplaces shaken by the pandemic and economic shocks.
Younger employees, especially Gen Z, seem less interested in hugging their jobs. Many remain restless, applying for new opportunities even during uncertain times. Older generations, on the other hand, are more likely to play it safe. They’ve seen enough turbulence to know that sometimes survival beats ambition.
And while job hugging is often discussed in American or European contexts, it’s easy to see the local parallels — especially in South Africa, where job security is a prized commodity and the job market remains tight.
If the last few years have taught us anything, it’s that workplace culture moves in swings. First came “The Great Resignation”, then “quiet quitting”, and now “job hugging”.
In short: from quitting loudly to quitting quietly — to not quitting at all.
The experts say it’s time for employers to use this stability wisely. Instead of mistaking job hugging for job satisfaction, they should be asking: Are my employees staying because they love their work, or because they’re scared to leave it?
Because at the end of the day, a workplace filled with reluctant huggers isn’t necessarily a healthy one — no matter how secure it looks from the outside.