Although to this day I still am unsure why I was never headhunted to chair OPEC, when I rolled up on the shores of Red Vienna in the latter part of the 1990s, there were, broadly speaking, two jobs I could do without speaking any German. The first was work in an in an Irish pub and I did. Although I quit after one shift when I realised that surviving on three hours sleep probably wasn’t the best preparation for standing in front of a group of business-people the following morning trying to make sense of “materials”.

The second, was to teach English as a foreign language where the qualification for people like me was to be a native (no German knowledge was in fact considered a plus), have a degree and know how to work a photocopier. Usually this meant freelancing for different language institutes, teaching privately, or perhaps as a “native speaker” teaching assistant in a proper school or kindergarten, although it was probably all three at some points in time. And this is what I did until I hung up the whiteboard markers in the spring of this year as events took their course (see here: The Rock and Roll).

Yet over the years as I have wafted (and waffled) through corridors of multiple companies and state adjacent bodies, I have learnt that there were, and are, some jobs in the number one city where German is still not a necessity. Especially if you have the right qualifications and, more importantly, English. These include medical research with big pharma or a related institute, certain IT-related software engineering or programming, teaching in one of the international or bilingual schools, or a stint on the classic expat rotation with an international company especially one that had inexplicably chosen Vienna as its European headquarters. And indeed, I have come across such people, from many different countries, all highly qualified, years of experience and, to this day, still no idea, if it is der, die or das.

Of course, there are smaller subsets where German was, and is, generally unnötig. But these tend to require something artistically specific or some special physical talent: opera singing, playing a classical musical instrument, looking good in tights and a codpiece, elite sports (as a player or coach), a post with one of the many international organisations, or even something very niche like an advertising creative headhunted from London. Of course, I have probably missed out some other examples and please write in if you are one of the Clown Car © RJBarratt, drivers, an international arms dealer or perhaps a Techbro worried about the German translation of “mogged”. But my point is that, as in many other places around the world, certain “in demand” professions require only a decent standard of English (and some questionable monetizable talent) and the local language can be magically dealt with later (i.e. never).

Although I have done nothing in the last thirty years to warrant a sudden call to headline the summer Salzburg opera festival or do a Ted Lasso style season at Austria Vienna Ladies, I have fortunately been able to acquire my unique version of German. Visitors often observe that I must be fluent by now which my standard answer is, I would still have no chance to pass an A/level in German but put me in a pub with a group of Austrians and I think I could hold my own (until they all revert to speaking English anyway). In any case, due to my friends over at Anthropic and Google, I can now write anything I need which is indistinguishable from any German speaking native. I know this for sure because when I showed my wife a cover letter I had composed for one of the many job applications a few months back, her mildly incredulous reaction was as clear as the Viennese tap water: “Did you write this?” Which I answered, “Of course I didn’t!” and we agreed not to mention this to my younger son who will try and finish school next year with or without LLMs.

My point being is that given my language largesse accumulated over the last 30 years, then searching for a new job would be decidedly easier than when the choice was the insidious world of Sprachtrainer or pulling pints in Flanagan’s. Or so you would think. In truth the pickings were slim back in 1997, when self-employment was really the only viable option with or without German. Yet if I have learned anything in the last six months, it’s that those pickings are even slimmer – great news if you have been on the GLP-1s, less so if you have the Vienna social insurance bastards breathing down your neck chasing backpayments.

But before we get there, some good news. A few days after that first interaction with the AMS I got a message confirming my eligibility for unemployment money (although after five months if was changed to something called “emergency assistance”). This was then by followed another appointment, this time with my “caseworker” where we discussed what I could do, what I was interested in and, most importantly, what I would only do if the alternative was to be kicked in the bollocks or made to work in a Kindergarten as the “English native”.

I already knew that I had no interest in returning to language institutes, assuming there were even any jobs, but I could envisage something in training and development within a HR department, I told them. Although having spoken to plenty of people in such positions over the years I knew my age, specific background, and deep suspicion for anybody who describes themselves as “passionate” was almost certainly a Sackgasse. However, unperturbed my contact forwarded a link from their database for one such job (part of the AMS’s remit: to weed out potential matches) and told to apply. And that was it. Come back in six weeks if you need us, date duly mentally booked as I left the building.

In the meantime, there were the many online resources: live chats, videos on writing a CV, online seminars about discovering my talents or composing a cover letter. And, in my mind, rather to much time devoted to whether one should include a photograph in the application. Although it seems to me that the only thing that has really changed since I wrote my first meaningful CV back in 1992, is a disturbing trend towards LinkedIn style puffery and wordiness seemingly inspired by AI. As such, my work is not done here. But more on that in our next thrilling installment.

© RJ Barratt 2026