Why outlandish job titles like 'Chief Hustler' are the new power move

Dubai: Yesterday, an email popped up from someone whose designation read Chief Hustler. A few scrolls later, another proudly signed off as Chief Inspiration Officer. Somewhere between my mid-morning caffeine (ok, malt-laced Children's drink Boost) fix and a looming deadline, I realised these titles were the highlight of my day. I mean, how can you not be intrigued by someone who calls themselves “chief hustler” at 9:30 on a Tuesday morning?

I’ll admit, I’m a little envious. When I was up for a promotion not so long ago, I pitched for the title Editor of All Things Fun and Fabulous. It didn’t fly. My wonderful boss with a traditional (read boring) title wanted something “more serious and appropriate.”

But every time I see a Chief Joy Officer or Head of Firefighting land in my inbox, I feel a small surge of solidarity and heavily-veiled jealousy. Somebody out there got the title of their dreams — and I love that for them.

Let’s be honest: job titles have become the new workplace personality test. They tell you who takes themselves seriously (Managing Director, Global Strategy Division) and who’s out here trying to make office life a little more human (Chief Jolly Officer — yes, that’s real).

Start-ups figured this out long ago. You’re not just a marketing manager anymore — you’re a Growth Hacker. You’re not head of operations — you’re the Chief Everything Officer.

Across the business world, titles are competing with Bollywood movie titles. There’s a Wizard of Light Bulb Moments somewhere dreaming up ad campaigns, a Chief Troublemaker shaking up corporate strategy, and even a Retail Jedi selling sneakers with the force.

Some workplaces have a Chief Heart Officer (read: HR), a Chief Delight Officer (customer experience), and my personal favourite, a Paranoid-in-Chief — that’s cybersecurity, apparently.

Sure, it’s outlandish. Sure, it’s flippant. But it’s also genius. These titles are conversation starters, icebreakers, and branding tools rolled into one. They tell the world that you don’t take yourself too seriously — even if you’re running a million-dollar company from your co-working corner with a beanbag and a cold brew.

Maybe it’s time we all loosened up a little. Imagine a world where accountants are Financial Whisperers, journalists are Truth Wranglers, and HR heads are People Peacekeepers. Suddenly, work doesn’t sound so… work-like.

Until then, I’ll keep opening every email from a Chief Mischief Maker or Mastermind of Mayhem with a smile. Because in a sea of formal signatures and sterile corporate jargon, these quirky titles remind us that behind every spreadsheet, strategy deck, and press release, there’s a human trying to make the 9-to-5 just a bit more fabulous.

And honestly? That’s the kind of hustle I can get behind.