I want to recommend a lengthy essay at Buzzfeed to you. In it the author, Anne Helen Petersen, outlines what I found the most honest self-appraisal of Millennials I have read to date. She assesses their collective mood as “burned out”:
It’s not as if I were slacking in the rest of my life. I was publishing stories, writing two books, making meals, executing a move across the country, planning trips, paying my student loans, exercising on a regular basis. But when it came to the mundane, the medium priority, the stuff that wouldn’t make my job easier or my work better, I avoided it.
My shame about these errands expands with each day. I remind myself that my mom was pretty much always doing errands. Did she like them? No. But she got them done. So why couldn’t I get it together — especially when the tasks were all, at first glance, easily completed? I realized that the vast majority of these tasks shares a common denominator: Their primary beneficiary is me, but not in a way that would actually drastically improve my life. They are seemingly high-effort, low-reward tasks, and they paralyze me — not unlike the way registering to vote paralyzed millennial Tim.
Tim and I are not alone in this paralysis. My partner was so stymied by the multistep, incredibly (and purposefully) confusing process of submitting insurance reimbursement forms for every single week of therapy that for months he just didn’t send them — and ate over $1,000. Another woman told me she had a package sitting unmailed in the corner of her room for over a year. A friend admitted he’s absorbed hundreds of dollars in clothes that don’t fit because he couldn’t manage to return them. Errand paralysis, post office anxiety — they’re different manifestations of the same affliction.
For the past two years, I’ve refused cautions — from editors, from family, from peers — that I might be edging into burnout. To my mind, burnout was something aid workers, or high-powered lawyers, or investigative journalists dealt with. It was something that could be treated with a week on the beach. I was still working, still getting other stuff done — of course I wasn’t burned out.
But the more I tried to figure out my errand paralysis, the more the actual parameters of burnout began to reveal themselves. Burnout and the behaviors and weight that accompany it aren’t, in fact, something we can cure by going on vacation. It’s not limited to workers in acutely high-stress environments. And it’s not a temporary affliction: It’s the millennial condition. It’s our base temperature. It’s our background music. It’s the way things are. It’s our lives.
It’s long but read the whole thing.
Most of those with whom I work are Millennials and I find that I get along well with them. Many are young enough to be my grandchildren. IMO their parents, whether Baby Boomers or Gen Xers have not served them well. As a group I find them incredibly cosseted. In many cases they live extremely structured lives and in too many instances their first experience with gainful employment came when they left school and got their first full-time jobs. By that time in my life I had already been working (in the sense of a job) for ten years. I find them incredibly busy without being particularly productive.
They don’t know how to do basic things. If they need to know how to do something they can look it up on Youtube but that doesn’t bring skill or confidence or understanding, things that only come through doing.
By the time they were 20 years old many in my mom’s generation had known real poverty without a government safety net, experienced disease, lived through the Great Depression, gone to war and seen death at first hand, and had to make their own way in the world without support from anybody. That’s burnout. By the time I was a similar age I had been stolen from, fought in the streets, seen overt, nasty racism of a sort unknown today, had ordinary childhood diseases (a concept practically unknown today), taught classes, held a job, punched a clock (literally), and had a dozen of my high school classmates die in Vietnam. Soon I would be working 60 hours a week.
I don’t envy the young people of today. Getting a job was pretty easy when I was their age. I had a sense of determination, purpose, and confidence. I had a country I could be proud of. There was a pervasive attitude of optimism, the feeling that things were getting better. It was far from perfect but things were getting better. Dignity was actually a thing in public life.