The term ‘job hugging’ has emerged to describe a growing pattern: workers clinging to jobs they don’t particularly enjoy, largely because leaving feels like too much of a gamble.
It’s the mirror image of job hopping. Instead of scanning the horizon for something new and exciting, people are tightening their grip on the familiar, even when that familiar isn’t fulfilling.
In many ways, job hugging reflects the mood of our times: cautious, uncertain, and deeply aware of the risks that come with change.
Workers, notably Gen Z, are holding on to their jobs for dear life, not because they’re thriving, but because they’re unsure of what’s next. Amid massive layoffs, skyrocketing prices and the tightening economy, workplace worry and anxiety are at all-time highs.
With so much economic uncertainty, more workers are finding that job hugging and staying put is more secure than taking unpredictable leaps into new opportunities.
To counter that, many years ago I worked at RMIT and many of the staff in their 50s and 60s were job hugging because they couldn’t get a job anywhere else.
With all the economic and political turmoil in today’s world, you might feel like going to bed and pulling the covers over your head, and you’re not alone. Job uncertainty poses a threat, raising worry and anxiety and taking a greater toll on your health than actually losing your job.
But uncertainty is an inevitable part of our careers. None of us knows the future, so we must live with a certain amount of it. Sticking to a holding pattern with predictability is the natural response when your job is at stake.
The past few years have left a mark. A global pandemic, shifting work arrangements, rising living costs and headlines about layoffs have reshaped how people think about employment.
Security and predictability, once taken for granted, now feel like valuable commodities. Against this backdrop, staying put, even in an uninspiring role, can feel like the safest move.
But while the instinct is understandable, the reality is more complicated. Job hugging may ease immediate anxieties, yet it can also quietly trap people in cycles of disengagement and stalled growth. To understand why the trend is taking hold, it helps to look at the forces shaping today’s job market.
Several pressures are pushing workers into job hugging. Rising living costs and ongoing worries about inflation make stability feel precious. Headlines about hiring freezes, layoffs and shrinking opportunities fuel the sense that now isn’t the time to test the waters.
Technology shifts add to the tension. Automation and artificial intelligence are redrawing the job landscape, sometimes faster than people can adapt.
Stories about disruption and disappearing roles only heighten the sense of caution. For many, holding onto a steady pay cheque feels safer than venturing out into unknown territory.
But safety has a price. When you stay in a role that no longer inspires or stretches you, engagement can fade. Work begins to feel like endurance rather than progress, and that takes a toll on wellbeing.
Careers can also stall. Without fresh challenges, skills stagnate—and when skills stagnate, opportunities shrink. Staying put may also mean less bargaining power and slower wage growth over time. What feels protective in the short term can quietly narrow your options for the future.
That’s where upskilling changes the equation. Learning new skills—whether through short courses, microcredentials, online programs or even stretch projects at work—opens doors. It restores a sense of agency.
Upskilling isn’t just about chasing a new role. It can strengthen your confidence to explore, negotiate, or shape your current role into something more rewarding. In a shifting job market, adaptability is a kind of security in itself.
Job hugging is understandable. It’s a human response to uncertainty and fear of loss. But staying in a job that no longer serves you doesn’t have to be the end of the story. Investing in skills, big or small, creates options. It helps you shift from holding on tightly to moving forward with purpose.