At Reason.com, Steve Chapman gives a very Reason-like rebuttal to claims that Generation Y is so coddled, lazy, and fatuously self-loving as to spell doom for America:
Jean Twenge, an associate professor of psychology at San Diego State University, reports that college students increasingly agree with statements indicating oversized egos, such as “I am an important person.” Marian Salzman, a senior vice president at the advertising agency JWT, told The Christian Science Monitor, “Gen-Y is the most difficult workforce I’ve ever encountered,” because they “are so self-indulgent.”
But before Gen Y-ers start to feel bad about themselves, they should know that worse things were said about their parents. Back in the 1960s and ’70s, it was universal wisdom that the kids of that era suffered from too much coddling. Vice President Spiro Agnew blamed student unrest and other problems on “spoiled brats who never had a good spanking.” Best-selling author Norman Vincent Peale, author of “The Power of Positive Thinking,” complained about youngsters whose parents felt a duty to “satisfy their every desire.”
The indicators Chapman cites–lower rates of teen smoking, drinking, and pregnancy; tightened acceptance rates at top colleges–make sense as evidence that These Kids Today aren’t irredeemably screwed up, although there are useful qualifiers to add. Chapman doesn’t cite anything to disprove the allegation that those arriving at their first jobs have unrealistic expectations. Also, while the acceptance rates for individual colleges have gone down, the number of colleges to which the average student gunning for the hoity-toity schools applies has gone way up. It’s not really certain how much harder it is for a given student to get into top-tier schools in general than it would have been for a student with the same qualifications a decade or two ago.
The stuff about pressure to perform in Chapman’s article was interesting because, looking for a DVD to play in the background while I did stuff around the apartment, I idly picked out a copy of
Shattered Glass
. Because my mind was on kitchen equipment and grocery orders, I didn’t fully register the title; I thought someone had made a movie version of Arthur Miller’s
Broken Glass
, which I’d seen performed a dozen years ago and been unimpressed by. Maybe I’ll feel differently this time around.
When I got home and actually looked at the cover, I realized I’d made a mistake: Shattered Glass was a dramatization of the Stephen Glass story-fabrication scandal at TNR nine years ago. It turned out to be pretty well done, and it did a good job of avoiding the specific annoying pitfall I feared it would fall right into.
There’s a point early on when one of Glass’s colleagues confronts him about applying to law school. He whines that he’s under tremendous pressure from his parents in Lake Forest to become a lawyer, not a journalist. I was afraid that, as the movie developed, that pressure would be presented as a possible sympathetic explanation for his motivations: chilly phone conversations in which his mother pointedly informs him that the boy he grew up with down the street is doing his residency at Massachusetts General, or his father casts aspersions on his income potential as a political commentator.
It turned out that no such scenes were forthcoming, and I was pleasantly surprised. Glass was, after all, one of thousands of graduates of Penn and comparable schools with pushy, demanding parents. To the extent that one wants a more specific explanation for his behavior than sheer amorality (which is enough for me, frankly), his problem seems to be less that he was under pressure than that he couldn’t stand the idea of not always being the golden boy. Miss Manners once wrote something to the effect of, “Anyone who expects to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral is in for a difficult life.” There are few things more salutary–when you’re in your 20s and everyone is constantly going on about how smart and sharp-witted and charming and capable you are–than to be assigned a load of scut work you disdain, do a half-assed job of it, and later discover that you overlooked something important that comes back around and bites you. (Yes, this is experience talking.) Glass only wanted to do the glam stuff, so when the right subject matter didn’t come his way organically, he invented it. Buckling down and making the best of a boring story or lackluster quotations would have been beneath him.
No one is accusing Generation Y en masse of such extremes, of course. I was more thinking in terms of pressures in the workplace and how people can be expected to respond to them. Self-esteem is notoriously difficult to quantify, so I’m not sure that an increase in the number of students who agree with such squishy propositions as “I am an important person” says much. And my sense is that, even if Ms. Salzman is right about college grads who’ve just been hired, most of them will adjust pretty quickly to reality and learn to perform.
Added later: It goes without saying that if Glass had had a fraction of Alice’s sense, he wouldn’t have gotten himself into such a pickle.