Dear Millennial: You’re Broke, and It’s Not Your Fault

Dear Millennial,

You’re broke. You know it. But it’s not your fault.

It began with your college debt. Since you were a child, filled with hopes, and dreams, and profound ambitions, your teachers and parents told you that the key to a better future was education. You worked really hard in school to get good grades. You took multiple practice exams to bump up those SAT scores. You participated in a new sport each season as well as several after school clubs. You volunteered at the local food kitchen. You washed cars on weekends for the student council fundraisers. You built floats for homecoming. It was worth it. You wrote a dreamy essay and got into that amazing college.

The price tag was over $30,000 a year, even after scholarships and grants and financial aid. Your parents cringed but, together, you decided the cost was worth it. You maxed out your loans, and in some cases, they did too. It’s OK. You needed this to be competitive. You chose a major that you were passionate about. That was what mattered according to the successful speakers that came to campus. “Pursue your passions” and “find a job you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.” You glowed with ambition and pride and discovery and happiness with every day that went by. The happiness cost about $1000 per week, but who was counting!

Graduation came and jobs became scarce. We just survived a “once-in-a-lifetime” recession. That’s OK too. This wasn’t normal. Things would get better. You adapted and prepared for the challenge.

You moved to a big city. Maybe it was New York, San Francisco, or Washington, DC or maybe it was Chicago, Austin, or Seattle. These were the only places that had jobs. The tech economy was growing. That helped fuel some of the growth. Elsewhere the climate was a bit more deceiving. Maybe you got lucky and landed a corporate job with benefits and a 401k plan. The hours were long and grueling, but at least there was a future. For others, you dabbled in a few different genres. Sometimes you had to have multiple jobs. A journalist or designer by day; a waiter or Uber driver by night.

The expenses started creeping in. Rent was already a fortune and headed nowhere but up. $3,000 a month for a 500 square foot studio. “Whoa!” you said to yourself. So you chopped that down to $1,500 but with threeroommates. “It’s great!” you justified to yourself, “I love being around people!” In reality you were trapped inside a shoe box.

Your income never really went up, but expenses seemed too. Food got expensive. You tried to create wonderful meals from Trader Joe’s and Blue Apron but socialization requires restaurants and bars and clubs and people. You are normal. Don’t feel guilty for wanting normal things. Normalcy simply costs more than your employer was willing to pay you. You wanted to at least enjoy your life. You started patronizing local bars and trying bespoke cocktails. It was the highlight of your week to hang out with friends and share these moments. You even began a circuit to try new restaurants with “local” food and “organic” ingredients. Marriage, and a family, and a home felt so far out of reach that spending on these simple delights seemed justifiable. After all, you’d been through so much, worked so hard… for Christ’s sake, you can have dinner and a drink!

Then you sort of got confused.

The economy is booming but you still made the same wages. You have a full-time job, but somehow the debts really haven’t gone away. You’ve been working long hours, you’ve slogged through a few years trying to get ahead, but somehow that promotion never materialized. Everyone keeps telling you how the stock market is soaring, the economy is “the best ever” and “we’ve got nowhere to go but up.” America was going to be “Great Again.” Confidence is booming. So you spend a bit more. You borrow against your future. You go on that vacation with friends. You attend those destination weddings. You buy a few nice outfits. You got the Lulu leggings for yoga class and splurged on the Nordstrom’s sunglasses. “Gotta look good for the ‘gram!”

The markets went up and your stress went down. You weren’t actually better off. You weren’t saving money, that’s for sure. But your future looked bright and so spending the money didn’t feel like a burden. You’ll get the promotion and the raise eventually. It’s fine. Right?

You filled your life with amazing new technologies to hide the subconscious pain. You posted only the most glamorous photos on Instagram to show off to your friends. You posted travel photos weekly of exotic destinations, majestic sunsets, and designer foods. You kept to date on irresistible series like “Making of a Murderer” and “Tiger King”. You relished in the weekly delights of Game of Thrones and Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Meanwhile, the world around you was playing tricks. It chuckled at your foolishness. Your obsessions simply made them richer. The more likes, the more clicks, the more views, the more packages that came with Amazon tape, the more of your money they took. But it all felt so good. You almost felt happy.

Then it hit. Like a train. It vanished. All of it. The job. The feelings. The outlook. The security. The future. Just like that. The virus.

Now you realize you went from under-employed to unemployed. You still have $100,000 of college loans. You have $35,000 of credit card debt. You have a car loan you can’t afford. Your rent is due. And you haven’t saved a dime.

How is that possible? But we had all these good years? You became confused.

They were good years, let me tell you! They were AMAZING years! The stock market went up 400%. Taxes were reduced. Handouts provided. Security given. There was just one problem. It wasn’t for you.

The good years were for owners, for folks with assets, stocks, and properties, and investments. The good years were for celebrities and athletes and media stars. This roughly corresponds to about 1% of the population. The rest of you have nothing. You don’t own equity. You don’t own stocks. You don’t own a home. You have no assets. While you were watching their shows, buying their products, and attending their games, they took your money. They have all of it. You have… well, just a prayer that the government sends you a check.

It’s not your fault. The political process has failed you. Your company has failed you. Your network has failed you.

Don’t get me wrong. Many of these folks have been working very hard over the past two decades: the politicians, the business tycoons, and those amazing celebrities. They just haven’t been working hard for you.

Take the politicians.

The Democrats sold you on “Hope”. They successfully advanced a progressive social agenda. President Obama passed the Affordable Care Act, ended the Defense of Marriage Act, and defended gay marriage before the Supreme Court. He signed the Paris Climate Accords, advocated for common sense gun reform to prevent mass shootings and the massacre of innocent children in elementary schools. Collectively, a new generation of advocates has championed the #blacklivesmatter and #metoo movements. However, Democrats did nothing to end rampant wage stagnation, income inequality, or the perpetual subsidization of corporate interests.

On the Republican side, they sold you on prosperity. Government is the problem and the “swamp” needed to be drained. They’ve been on a rampage against government oversight and government spending (on social causes) and have hands down won with flying colors the deregulation of every corner of our society including banking, energy, transportation, trade, and technology. Meanwhile, they have been making successful cuts towards healthcare and taxes for America’s largest corporations. All the while growing the very deficit they claimed to be defending. The Republicans most successful win? Hypocrisy.

But what is really missing from both of these parties is one key agenda item. The American Worker. Totally forgotten from the past twenty years of history, is a concerted effort to demand that workers be paid more, that workers be guaranteed sick leave, that workers be given clear and well funded retirement programs, that workers have robust and affordable healthcare, that workers be compensated with equity and dividends from their employers. Workers just work. They own nothing. They are disposable. The more they work, the more the company makes, and the more profits that go to shareholders. Workers don’t get paid in booming years. Only shareholders. Workers are a cost. Costs erode profits. Costs need to be reduced. You need to be reduced.

Take the corporations

You gave them your all: your talents, your ideas, your labor, your time, your sacrifices. You wanted to “deliver.” If you just did a good job, they would fulfill their end of the bargain. You would get paid. You would get promoted. You would be given influence. Unfortunately for you, their bargain with shareholders was stronger. They happily used your talents and ideas and labor and they quickly turned it into profits. The more you worked, the more profits they could generate. Good job! You did it. They took those profits and gave it to their shareholders, not you. You kept that job out of some false sense of loyalty, some hope for security and longevity. Now you are unemployed. The company will go on. Your position will not. Your paychecks will not.

Take the media.

Content has exploded. There are platforms all around us to feed us information and ideas and entertainment. It’s amazing. It’s instant. And it’s also addicting. You’re glued to your phone and your favorite programs. The algorithms of Facebook and Instagram and Google and Amazon are designed to keep you engaged. They want you there. They are absorbing you. They want to know you. Their goal is clear. They want your money. The more they can predict your habits, your interests, your desires, your passions, and even your insecurities, the more they can target your money. You think you chose to buy that? They chose for you. The media does the same. You’re binge watching hours of content; entire series in a few days, glued to the couch. You feel so accomplished when complete, like you learned something. You brag to all your friends. You post it on your Instagram. In truth, you accomplished nothing. You have nothing to show for it. You didn’t earn anything. All you did was make Netflix and Amazon and Hulu richer. Good job. That’s your role in life: make others richer.

We have capitalism in this country and we have democracy in this country. They work and they work very well. But today, they are only working for one group of people: the wealthiest, the owners, the 1%.

It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. You could have voted them out. But they lied. You could have quit. But you were desperate and in debt. You could have avoided their tricks. But you were addicted. You could have avoided the expenses. But it’s truly all you had to live for. You have a right to be happy.

It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.

But now you do.

Sincerely,

Me

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