Subscribe

Generation gap

As workplaces prepare for an infestation of Gen-Yers, maybe it's time to re-look at how much of a threat they actually are.

Tallulah Habib
By Tallulah Habib
Johannesburg, 12 Mar 2013

It was a warm night towards the end of February in Johannesburg, SA. The sun had recently sunk below the horizon and the air was fragrant with jasmine. A couple of moths fluttered around the light bulb in the kitchen. There is nothing untoward about this image. In fact, it's rather pleasant. There's a metaphor there if one cares to look, but our protagonist doesn't care to look. She's not concerned at all about the moths. The next day, however, she will be. The couple of moths orbiting the single lamp overnight become many moths. By the end of the week they're everywhere - on every surface - tiny, but terrifying in their extent.

It is clear, she has a problem.

A great deal has been said about Generation-Y in the last few years, as we slowly start to enter the workplace. Gen-Y refers to people born after 1982. We are also sometimes called "millennials", "digital natives", "the connected generation" or, less favourably, the "Peter Pan generation".

Cisco called this a "new dawn for work, play and identity" in its third annual connected world technology report at the end of last year. Some of the stats: 60% of Gen-Y compulsively check their smartphones for e-mails, texts or social media updates. Two out of three spend equal or more time online with friends than in person; of those surveyed, 87% have a Facebook account, 56% have a Twitter account, 90% shop online.

In the workplace, 40% say their company policy forbids using company-owned devices for personal activities; 71% don't obey these policies.

We're a "managerial challenge", because we operate completely differently from those who came to the workplace before us. We strive for a greater work-life balance; we want to be connected to our friends and colleagues both inside and outside of work hours. We expect things like computer access and a decent Internet connection. We value our happiness within a job over incentives such as salaries. We are "pampered, over-praised, relentlessly self-confident".

I'm not going to talk about that. I'm going to talk about moths. More precisely, I'm going to talk about moths and how Generation-Y solves problems. Perhaps, it will become apparent that, from a different perspective, we're not that bad after all.

Back to our protagonist, who upon realising the moths might be a problem, starts running around the house trying to catch one of the moths keeping still on a surface. Why? Because she needs a photograph. She needs a photograph because she needs to post an image of the thing to Instagram.

She snaps a pic. It's not amazing, but it's good enough.

"Seems to be an awful number of these around all of a sudden, anyone know what they are?" she puts as the caption. Pressing send on Instagram uploads the moth's likeness to both Twitter and Facebook automatically. It's like a wanted poster strewn across the Internet.

We do want to be constantly connected, but not because we want to spend our time playing games rather than delivering on our KPIs.

Crowdsourcing is the term. She's tapping into the collective wisdom of the crowd. She doesn't know, but someone else will. It's quicker than looking through an encyclopaedia of moth species, and cheaper and easier than trying a number of solutions at random until one works.

It takes barely a minute for the first response to come through on Facebook from a friend. "I also have those. I can't seem to get rid of them" (this offers a measurement of the extent of the problem). A little later a response comes through on Twitter, "that looks like a pantry moth" (the enemy is identified).

Then to Google, the vast indexer of knowledge, the helpful librarian accessed anywhere at any time. There is no need to wonder anymore. Stroking a couple of keys can define any word... in almost any language. She's not looking for a word; she's looking for moth solutions. She also attempts to source some from Twitter, using the hashtag #twoogle ("Twitter Google").

By the end of the evening, the enemy is defeated in an environmentally-friendly way using simple household goods (Google pointed her towards the grains at the back of the baking cupboard where the moths had nested, a blog informed her that wiping down the shelves with vinegar and putting bay leaves in with the grains would keep them away, and a stranger on Twitter told her that the eggs are tiny like a spider web so she'd better vacuum rather than sweeping).

She shares the happy results across social media, and makes sure her friend knows to do the same.

This is how a Gen-Yer solves a problem. Any problem; whether to do with household pests, or in the workplace.

We do want to be constantly connected, but not because we want to spend our time playing games rather than delivering on our KPIs. It's because it's efficient. We may talk to our friends about weekend plans and TV series while we work, but we also get sent valuable articles and given advice that help us better perform our jobs. We are wired in to a collective brain and cutting us off from that brain is effectively cutting off the organisation from a giant, free, resource.

Our work-life balance may be completely messed up in this way. We may want Facebook access and engage in debates on Twitter during work hours. But we'll also slave into the night on a weekend to get work done. The blurring of the lines works both ways.

That's not to say that all of us will be dedicated employees who use our digital prowess for the organisation's benefit. Like every generation that went before, there are bound to be a few bad apples - or should I say moths - in the pantry.

Not every moth is a pantry moth bent on destruction though. Some moths produce silk. If given the chance.

Share