The Daily Bruin is UCLA’s student newspaper, and prints three editions each week to distribute at different locations around campus. The stories are often interesting, and feature updates about campus events, reporting on sports games, and diverse opinion pieces from students on campus.
But the greatest part of this newspaper is its games section — specifically, the sudoku. These tri-weekly puzzles are a vital part of my student experience, and I have religiously solved each and every one of them in the hundreds of newspapers printed during my four years at UCLA.
It was during one of these sudoku-solving sessions that I noticed an interesting thing. An advertisement was on the page, right next to my beloved game:
Looking for a UCLA student to tutor my granddaughter in math and English. Prior experienced preferred but not necessary, flexible on the scheduling. Please contact [contact info] if interested.
(Or something along those lines. I never did save that ad, only the solved sudoku.)
But the important thing is that I was a UCLA student, and figured that I’d happily tutor this person’s granddaughter for some extra money. I called the family, set up a time for the first tutoring session, and was all ready to go. Then came the ultimate question: “How much do you charge?”
Surprisingly, I hadn’t expected this at all, figuring the family would offer a flat rate in a take-it-or-leave-it situation. I thought for a bit, and decided to be ambitious. After all, we could always negotiate down, right?
“$50/hour”, I responded, fully expecting a scoff and a harsh counteroffer.
“Would you be able to do $45?”, came the quick reply.
There was only one answer to that question, and the answer was yes. I started tutoring the granddaughter weekly for the rest of the quarter, with great success (she ended up getting the highest grade in her math class).
And then a month later, another opportunity fell out of the sky: in a UCLA parent’s group chat, someone was looking for a tutor for their child. My mom told me about this, and I quickly set up a call with them, too.
This time, when the conversation reached payment, I had a benchmark rate and figured there was no reason not to reach for an even higher one. I told them I was tutoring another student for $60/hour, which was eventually negotiated down to $55.
Holy shit. I realized I was onto something.
Quickly, I realized that tutoring was not the only place to make this kind of money. In an Econ Department newsletter earlier this month, I read the following beautiful words:
“One of our alumni (PhD in Economics) is looking to hire a student to do bibliographic research on a retired UCLA professor. The student should have good writing skills, knowledge of Google Scholar, JSTOR, and other bibliographic research techniques. Please send a transcript, resume, and a paragraph or two explaining your qualifications to [email]. This is a one-to-two-week position and will be paid.”
— Econ Department newsletter, January 17th, 2025
Opportunities like that don’t often fall from the sky, so I immediately sent an email (with this blog as a writing sample!) to schedule a meeting. It went well, and the ultimate question came again. I figured that bibliographical work wouldn’t be as intensive as tutoring (and much easier to learn), so I initially asked for $30-$40/hour.
Right away, he agreed to $30/hour for the first week, and $40/hour for the second based on performance. Now that’s what I’m talking about!
And so I found myself in quite the crazy situation: in just a few months, I had independently found three opportunities for “intellectual service work” (what I call anything where you trade your time for mental brainpower) that easily charged $40+/hour. And I’m not alone: some friends regularly tutor high schoolers for $60+/hour, finding their own clients online through personal networks and family connections.
This begs the question: How is this possible? And most importantly, why are these students (including myself) able to charge so much?
The answer, it turns out, is quite simple: UCLA students have a combination of unique traits, and folks are willing to pay a lot of money to access it. And over the course of my four years at UCLA, I’ve learned what they are:
UCLA students are generally smart, with a broad understanding of many things.
UCLA students are usually very good at something. Very likely, that’s how they got into such a good school in the first place.
And most importantly, UCLA students can learn new things very quickly.
These traits are carefully filtered for by the admissions committee for the school, and combined with the near-infinite amount of academic and professional resources, makes UCLA a truly special place.
This explains why companies spend time recruiting UCLA students, since the admissions committee already filtered only great candidates into the school. And it’s exactly why students can charge so much for their time: folks understand that UCLA students know a lot of things, and can apply it well, too.
(This is exactly what makes UCLA such a special place for me. My favorite part is not the classroom education, but the vast network of brilliant peers and professors you instantly get access to.)
At this point, you’re probably thinking something like this:
“So Dennis, how do I get these jobs? What are the main takeaways?”
Well, there are a few:
To charge high rates for intellectual service work, you obviously need to find some in the first place. The best way to do this is to broaden the number of avenues in which you can learn about this work — join online forums for your school, department newsletter, start a professional blog to expand your network 😁, and actually read the school newspaper ads. There’s a ton of great jobs there!
Don’t sell yourself short. It’s far better to set your hourly rate higher than the final amount, and then negotiate down. Start off too low, and you have no wiggle room at all.
When negotiating your hourly rate, remember that the initial price you propose greatly affects the final rate. The two things to remember here are 1) Use a range to convey your rate ($40-$50 an hour, for example) to anchor the other party to the lower end of that range, and 2) Expect the other party to negotiate down your initial suggestion. In the case of my tutoring, the final rate was $5 lower than my initial offer. The optimal way to do this negotiation is discussed in the book Never Split the Difference, which I recommend highly.
Remember that time is your most precious asset. Trade your time and mental power wisely — you won’t get it back!
And lastly, remember that great opportunities come from strange places, and often fall from the sky. Countless people must’ve read the same tutoring ad in The Daily Bruin and seen the same job listing in the Econ Department newsletter, yet it was I who jumped on the opportunity first and made the most of it.
Or maybe the ultimate lesson is to do more sudokus. After all, who knows what good can come from it?
Best,
Dennis :)
Dennis’s Picks:
This absolutely amazing piece about the dangers of short-form content and dopamine addiction. Gurwinder’s writing is some of the finest I’ve ever read.
The following quote: “The reason people get good ideas in the shower is because it’s the only time during the day when most people are away from screens long enough to think. The lesson is not to take more showers, but to take more time to think clearly.” The times when I don’t have my phone are my most productive, and every digital detox I’ve ever had has been truly amazing. Those notifications can wait, trust me!
This hidden secret that my friend Ariv and I found while exploring Murphy Hall. If you’re at UCLA, go find it on the first floor!
For many more tips on negotiation, read Never Split the Difference by Chris Voss. Or, read the highlights here.