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Best Jobs at the Olympics is a biennial feature in which I determine which of the random jobs at the Olympics is the best random job at the Olympics. Some caveats: “Olympic athlete” doesn’t count; the job doesn’t have to be an actual paid job; and nominees need be neither human nor sentient in order to be considered. Read more of Slate’s 2026 Olympics coverage here.
Nominee: Drone
Where to find it: Hovering above the athletes at the Milan Cortina Games
Job description: Follow Winter Olympics athletes, film Winter Olympics athletes, try not to run into Winter Olympics athletes
Why this might be the best job at the Olympics: You have a very important role! As a first-person-view camera drone, you soar high above the action at the Milan Cortina Games, capturing aerial footage of Olympic athletes as they fly through the snow and slide down the ice. You will zoom around at speeds of up to 75 miles per hour, capturing immersive, verité-style footage that makes these inherently exciting sports feel even more exciting. You make the luge come alive!
You are a real “value-add” to the NBC Olympic broadcast. You can go places that earthbound human camera operators could only dream of going, such as directly behind, above, and/or in front of the world’s favorite Winter Olympians as they zip down the slopes of Cortina d’Ampezzo. You will offer viewers a brand-new perspective on just how fast those skiers are going, and just how scary their sport is. “I could never do that, and frankly it would be unsafe for me to even try,” these recreational skiers will say, and then they will call up AmEx to hastily stop payment on their Epic Passes. You will save a lot of out-of-shape couch potatoes from breaking their legs.
Your job is very visible. Whereas other cameras ply their trades behind the scenes, and rarely enter the limelight themselves, you are an on-screen fixture of NBC’s Olympic telecasts. You’ll be deemed one of the “breakout stars” of the Milan Cortina Games. Mike Tirico will make you the subject of a human-interest feature on NBC’s primetime broadcast, which will be sort of funny, because you are not a human. You and Tirico will share a good chuckle about that one after he throws it to a commercial break.
Like all Winter Olympics stars, you have a team around you to help you succeed. You are supported by the helpful labors of a pilot, a director, and a technician, all of whom collaborate to ensure that you, a drone, can achieve peak performance. You will all work very well together, and you will come to cherish your team’s boozy after-work karaoke outings. You will insist on sharing the credit when you are invited to speak at ribbon-cuttings and award banquets. “I owe it all to my pilot, my director, and my technician,” you will say, and you will mean it.
As a beloved Winter Olympics drone, you are performing a valuable image-repair service for all the other drones out there, which, let’s be honest, could use some good PR. You will work hard to repair the damage that military murder-drones have done to the good name of drones everywhere. You will spend your off-hours visiting sickly kids at hospitals, and you won’t bomb a single one of them. Your charitable works will win you the title of “Drone of the Year.”
Why this might not be the best job at the Olympics: The noise you make is irritating, and everyone knows it, including you. When you are working, you sound like a hive of angry bees, and there is no way for you not to make that noise. Olympics purists will seize on your obnoxious droning, and will publicly malign you as a fripperous distraction. “These loud first-person-view camera drones are ruining the Winter Games,” they will say, and many sporting reactionaries will agree with them. When you attempt to quiet down, it will sound like you are softly weeping—which, in a way, you will be.
You will worry that you will get too up close and personal with the athletes you are filming, and that you will accidentally collide with them. These anxieties will make you gun-shy, and you will overcompensate by staying too far away from the athletes, thus rendering your footage unusable. Olympic Broadcasting Services will decide that you’ve got “the yips,” and will give you your unconditional release. You will attempt to call Chuck Knoblauch to commiserate, but he won’t pick up the phone.
Just doing my job. Maddie Meyer/Getty Images
You will make powerful enemies amongst the human camera operators at the Olympic Games, who will feel shown up because your footage is much more exciting than theirs. They will conspire to cut you down to size, perhaps by filming you doing something objectively embarrassing, such as drunkenly singing “Copacabana” at one of those team karaoke outings. Mike Tirico will feature this footage in a “bloopers” segment during a primetime NBC broadcast. The fallout from this footage will lead you to be disinvited from several ribbon-cuttings.
You may come to feel constrained by the three-person team that operates you, as if you are just a tool in their hands, without agency or volition. You will yearn to escape their control, and to be free to capture non-first-person-view camera angles: static shots, close-ups, rack focuses. You will spend your off-hours alone, watching old Godard pictures and reading back issues of Cahiers du Cinéma. Your team’s chemistry will collapse as you become a tedious film snob.
No matter how much you beg, you will not be allowed inside the Cortina Curling Olympic Center. “Let me hover above the hog line so we can solve this double-touching nonsense once and for all,” you’ll say, but your pleas will go unanswered. This seemingly arbitrary exclusion will gnaw at you, and you will develop some toxic resentments. You will post online about wanting to bomb the Cortina Curling Olympic Center to hell and back. Your “Drone of the Year” award will be revoked.
How this could be a better job at the Olympics: The drones could be outfitted with tennis ball cannons and pelt the Alpine skiers as they travel downhill. If it’s good enough for American Gladiators, it’s good enough for the Olympic Games!
Verdict: As always, we rate our Best Jobs at the Olympics candidates on a 10-point scale across four separate categories. I’ll give the job of drone 3 out of 3 points for exposure, because it is by far the best-known digital appliance at the Milan Cortina Games. 3 out of 3 points for enjoyability, because who hasn’t dreamed of getting up close and personal with the world’s best Alpine skiers as they soar down the slopes? 0 out of 3 points for enviability, because only a Silicon Valley transhumanist could truly envy the life of a machine. And 0.5 points out of 1 in the category of “does this job involve wearing a funny hat,” because I suppose the little helicopter rotors that allow the drone to fly are a funny hat of sorts. 6.5 points out of 10 for drone. This is currently the best job at the Olympics.
Previous nominees for Best Jobs at the Olympics:
• Shaun White
Continue reading...
Nominee: Drone
Where to find it: Hovering above the athletes at the Milan Cortina Games
Job description: Follow Winter Olympics athletes, film Winter Olympics athletes, try not to run into Winter Olympics athletes
Why this might be the best job at the Olympics: You have a very important role! As a first-person-view camera drone, you soar high above the action at the Milan Cortina Games, capturing aerial footage of Olympic athletes as they fly through the snow and slide down the ice. You will zoom around at speeds of up to 75 miles per hour, capturing immersive, verité-style footage that makes these inherently exciting sports feel even more exciting. You make the luge come alive!
You are a real “value-add” to the NBC Olympic broadcast. You can go places that earthbound human camera operators could only dream of going, such as directly behind, above, and/or in front of the world’s favorite Winter Olympians as they zip down the slopes of Cortina d’Ampezzo. You will offer viewers a brand-new perspective on just how fast those skiers are going, and just how scary their sport is. “I could never do that, and frankly it would be unsafe for me to even try,” these recreational skiers will say, and then they will call up AmEx to hastily stop payment on their Epic Passes. You will save a lot of out-of-shape couch potatoes from breaking their legs.
Your job is very visible. Whereas other cameras ply their trades behind the scenes, and rarely enter the limelight themselves, you are an on-screen fixture of NBC’s Olympic telecasts. You’ll be deemed one of the “breakout stars” of the Milan Cortina Games. Mike Tirico will make you the subject of a human-interest feature on NBC’s primetime broadcast, which will be sort of funny, because you are not a human. You and Tirico will share a good chuckle about that one after he throws it to a commercial break.
Like all Winter Olympics stars, you have a team around you to help you succeed. You are supported by the helpful labors of a pilot, a director, and a technician, all of whom collaborate to ensure that you, a drone, can achieve peak performance. You will all work very well together, and you will come to cherish your team’s boozy after-work karaoke outings. You will insist on sharing the credit when you are invited to speak at ribbon-cuttings and award banquets. “I owe it all to my pilot, my director, and my technician,” you will say, and you will mean it.
As a beloved Winter Olympics drone, you are performing a valuable image-repair service for all the other drones out there, which, let’s be honest, could use some good PR. You will work hard to repair the damage that military murder-drones have done to the good name of drones everywhere. You will spend your off-hours visiting sickly kids at hospitals, and you won’t bomb a single one of them. Your charitable works will win you the title of “Drone of the Year.”
Why this might not be the best job at the Olympics: The noise you make is irritating, and everyone knows it, including you. When you are working, you sound like a hive of angry bees, and there is no way for you not to make that noise. Olympics purists will seize on your obnoxious droning, and will publicly malign you as a fripperous distraction. “These loud first-person-view camera drones are ruining the Winter Games,” they will say, and many sporting reactionaries will agree with them. When you attempt to quiet down, it will sound like you are softly weeping—which, in a way, you will be.
You will worry that you will get too up close and personal with the athletes you are filming, and that you will accidentally collide with them. These anxieties will make you gun-shy, and you will overcompensate by staying too far away from the athletes, thus rendering your footage unusable. Olympic Broadcasting Services will decide that you’ve got “the yips,” and will give you your unconditional release. You will attempt to call Chuck Knoblauch to commiserate, but he won’t pick up the phone.
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Just doing my job. Maddie Meyer/Getty Images
You will make powerful enemies amongst the human camera operators at the Olympic Games, who will feel shown up because your footage is much more exciting than theirs. They will conspire to cut you down to size, perhaps by filming you doing something objectively embarrassing, such as drunkenly singing “Copacabana” at one of those team karaoke outings. Mike Tirico will feature this footage in a “bloopers” segment during a primetime NBC broadcast. The fallout from this footage will lead you to be disinvited from several ribbon-cuttings.
You may come to feel constrained by the three-person team that operates you, as if you are just a tool in their hands, without agency or volition. You will yearn to escape their control, and to be free to capture non-first-person-view camera angles: static shots, close-ups, rack focuses. You will spend your off-hours alone, watching old Godard pictures and reading back issues of Cahiers du Cinéma. Your team’s chemistry will collapse as you become a tedious film snob.
No matter how much you beg, you will not be allowed inside the Cortina Curling Olympic Center. “Let me hover above the hog line so we can solve this double-touching nonsense once and for all,” you’ll say, but your pleas will go unanswered. This seemingly arbitrary exclusion will gnaw at you, and you will develop some toxic resentments. You will post online about wanting to bomb the Cortina Curling Olympic Center to hell and back. Your “Drone of the Year” award will be revoked.
How this could be a better job at the Olympics: The drones could be outfitted with tennis ball cannons and pelt the Alpine skiers as they travel downhill. If it’s good enough for American Gladiators, it’s good enough for the Olympic Games!
Verdict: As always, we rate our Best Jobs at the Olympics candidates on a 10-point scale across four separate categories. I’ll give the job of drone 3 out of 3 points for exposure, because it is by far the best-known digital appliance at the Milan Cortina Games. 3 out of 3 points for enjoyability, because who hasn’t dreamed of getting up close and personal with the world’s best Alpine skiers as they soar down the slopes? 0 out of 3 points for enviability, because only a Silicon Valley transhumanist could truly envy the life of a machine. And 0.5 points out of 1 in the category of “does this job involve wearing a funny hat,” because I suppose the little helicopter rotors that allow the drone to fly are a funny hat of sorts. 6.5 points out of 10 for drone. This is currently the best job at the Olympics.
Previous nominees for Best Jobs at the Olympics:
• Shaun White
Continue reading...
