Will we ever recover? The role of work for those graduating today

The long-term implications of generating first impressions of work in an abnormal economic climate

Friends rollerblading in Boston, MA

“What would you be doing if not this?” an executive asked my friend in a final interview for a finance role. He was caught off guard and stumped. To me, that would have been the easiest answer in the world.

If I was not doing this, whatever this is, I would be a writer. Not a weekend writer who drafts pieces for a quiet blog on long plane rides (as I’m currently doing) but a real writer. A writer who lives by the sea in Maine. Who wakes every morning and visits the local farmers market, picking out radishes at the recommendation of the grizzled farmer whom she certainly knows. Who stays in Maine through every season, who remarks in Winter, on the pleasant newfound ease of parking and shares in Spring, memories of Summer, when the days were longer and the sunshine constant.

There are many reasons why I’m a full-time business builder and not a full-time writer. To name a few: money, a fear of isolation, genuine interests, upbringing, youth. Also because I genuinely really like my career path and plan to stay on it for a long time. But this alternate reality soothes me because it’s always there. Being a full-time writer simply means writing full-time, and I know I can do that whenever I want.

It dawned on me recently that my age group has a uniquely fraught relationship to employment. Graduating college in 2021, when talks of potential recession became replaced by periods of rapid inflated growth, we entered into a prospering workforce and were introduced to a world where employers needed you. It was the Great Resignation. New job opportunities seemingly fell from trees and current employers let you define a personal, flexible working style.

And then things calmed down. We began this “will they, won’t they” dance with an economic recession, and the power dynamic between jobs and workers reversed. Job flexibility reduced. New opportunities stopped coming, even for those who really wanted them. Rates of feeling “stuck” in a job surged. Now, 34% of people dread starting their workday, up 11% from 2020. Layoffs became frequent. Performance improvement plans became more common. Fear at work and fear for work increased. And a young population of workers were left with their heads swiveling, asking themselves: “what just happened?”

It's so interesting to hear my generation talk about work. For those in tech, layoffs are permanently part of the culture, with many having been laid off themselves. For those in consulting, “beach time” or “bench time” has become something to fear. For those pursuing investing, the future of partner promotion has never seemed more uncertain. Losing jobs is not socially associated with a person’s work performance. Quitting jobs without another lined up is a heroic act. The taboo of unemployment doesn’t exist. Compound this with high inflation, low purchasing power, and the joke that if you wanted to buy a home you should have done so as an embryo, and what’s left is a feeling towards work that could only be colloquially summarized as: “what’s the point?”

Eventually, the economy will shift again and a feeling of sustainable growth will return. The pressure to cut costs will lessen. LinkedIn #opentowork banners will become less frequent. But I am left wondering: how will my generation do in the long term after this start in the workforce?

Research finds that graduating into poor economic conditions often leads to persistently lower salaries and underemployment. The median income of those who graduated during the Great Recession is 36% less than those who graduated in the bubble right before. While this economic state is not as grim as in 2009 and the 2021 graduates aren’t even exposed to the downsides of the current economy as much as younger ones, I do wonder if we will forever see work as something that is abnormally unreliable and if so, what the implications of this will be. Will we earn less in the long term? Will we work less? Will we have as much confidence in our abilities as those who found easier paths to the same promotions? One difference I believe we are already seeing is a changing role for passions.

Job uncertainty has bred an increased desire to manage your destiny. We see that with people taking two jobs (37% surveyed have more than one full-time job), and we see it in the growth of the creator economy. Jobs aren’t reliable, but creative pursuits are both monetizable and controllable. After a catalyst of a layoff, a breaking point in a traditional job or just a fear of either, we turn to those.

And so, I reflect on my own persistent vision of writing full-time. And I ask myself, why do I truly dream of this? The answer is a little bit personal interest, a little bit lifestyle appeal, and a little bit of fulfilling childhood dreams. But it’s also likely a little bit of self-protection.