In the next 10 years there will be 1.2bn young people looking for work and only 300m jobs to go around.
Wasting
time on the dismal Davos website last week I found a nasty statistic.
In the next 10 years there will be 1.2bn young people looking for work
and only 300m jobs to go around. Next to this stark stat was an
invitation to write an essay solving the problem.
Briefly I got excited and started sharpening my pencil, as I’m pretty
sure I have the perfect answer to the question of youth unemployment.
Alas, on closer inspection, the competition turns out not to be open to
me, but to the “Young Global Shapers Community”, which sounds like a
group of juvenile dieters but turns out to be “extraordinary
individuals” in their 20s and 30s.
Yet
however extraordinary these people are, I guarantee their essays will
be no good. The young shapers have been given the title: “What can I and
the global community do to create jobs for my generation?”, but there
is nothing much any of them can do – because we old shapers are in the
way.
So I’ve decided to press ahead with my entry regardless. My essay is
quite short – which I hope will be a blessed relief to the judges. What I
would do can be summarised in one word: resign.
This inescapable, awkward truth has been rammed home to me in the
past few months as I keep meeting bright people in their 20s and 30s
desperate for a job in journalism – and for mine in particular. I fob
them off with platitudes about what a difficult market journalism is,
but no one is fooled. The real reason they can’t do my job is that I’m
doing it myself.
The same is true for almost all professions. The young can’t advance
because everywhere they find my complacent generation is in situ. Thus
the only way of solving the problem is to make everyone of a certain
age, say over 50, walk the plank.
Before I go any further, I ought to make one thing clear. This is not
a resignation letter – I intend to hang on for dear life. It is just
that I can’t resist pointing out the obvious, even though it is not in
my interests to do so. Forcibly breaking the logjam would not only do
much for youth unemployment, it would also serve a lot of other ends.
The
choice boils down to whether it’s better for people to have a decade at
the beginning or at the end of their careers where they are demoralised
and underemployed. The answer is easy: surely it is better to be more
active at the beginning.
To have people idle at a time when they are full of energy and their
grey-cell count is at a maximum is a shocking waste. And in any case, my
generation has had it very good for much too long. We bought houses
when they were still just about affordable. We had free education and
pensions. It’s all been jolly nice, and I’ve enjoyed it a lot. Now is
the time to start to pay.
One of the beauties of the young is that they are cheap. Shifting
from old to young would bring down wages and would also solve the
executive pay problem in one shot. Almost all the people earning
grotesque amounts are over 50 – getting rid of them would mean CEO pay
would come thumping down. The RBS chief, Stephen Hester, was in the year below me at university – which must make him about 51. So bad luck Steve, your time is up too.
I have tried this idea out on various contemporaries and they all say
it’s rubbish. They mutter about the “lump of labour fallacy” with a
panicky look in their eyes. Then they say: think about the loss of
experience.
I reply that experience can be overrated; in any case, I’m not
advocating giving huge jobs to children, but to those in their 40s, who
have 15 or 20 years’ experience, which is surely just as good as 30 or
even 40.
Then they protest that the people at the top are there because they
are good, and getting rid of good people is stupid. This is true up to
a point, but there are surely younger people who are good too. Anyway, I
might bend the rules to let some ageing superstars – of whom there are
very, very few – stay on.
So what would the rest of us unemployed 50- and 60-somethings do? We
could sell our experience as consultants. We could start again as
something else. We could be entrepreneurs – surely our experience would
help. We could live off the profits we’ve made on our houses. Or we
could scrimp and save and go to university. It has always seemed a waste
for 20-year-olds to do useless degrees in English and history when
50-year-olds would get so much more out of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment