Scorn in the USA

Ex-Yelper Talia Jane’s story is more American Dream-turned-nightmare than an expose of corporate cruelty or entitled ego. Is the startup mentality of ‘go-for-broke and reap untold riches’ damaging young people’s expectations and ambitions?

Disclosure: I’m British. And I love America. Head over heels. Hook, line, and sinker. It’s been this way since I can remember. America was where life happened. Where anything was possible.

Growing up in suburban London in the 80s, American culture was all-pervasive. It was the originator of all that was sacred and profane. Everything American wore a cloak of cool that held instant appeal: The Karate Kid; McDonalds; The A Team; wrestling; Knight Rider; Disney World, New York; Magnum PI.

You get the idea.

Fast-forward 30 years and I’m still here in Britain. Sure, I’ve been to America, but never stayed. From the outside looking in, the lines are blurry. The reality of daily life in Boston; New York; or Dallas may as well be as fictitious as the tales told on Cheers, NYPD Blue, or -- erm -- Dallas.

Perhaps that’s why it’s no surprise to me that another tale has of late been given a lot of media attention -- that of (ex-) Yelp employee Talia Jane and her open letter to Yelp CEO, Jeremy Stoppelman, complaining of her lacklustre lot.

To me, Talia’s tale is as much a reflection of the American Dream gone sour-milk-for-breakfast-again as it is an individual yarn of breadline living. Call her entitled. Write it off as symptoms of a ‘millennial mindset of wanting a medal just for showing up’ (personally I’m not buying that argument). But admit it, America, you made her that way. You made her believe she could grow up to be whatever she wanted to be; to achieve her heart’s desire; and indulge her every whim. And now she’s mad with you.

I’d be very unhappy if I’d been promised the Earth and handed a bag of soil. It’d be a different story if I’d been given the soil and told that this was all I had to work with. But that’s not the dream startup founders buy into. It’s not the story of Slack being valued at nearly US$3 billion in its first year of operating.

I found myself in Denmark recently. Shortly before arriving, in light of comments made by US Democrat presidential candidate, Bernie Sanders, the media had yet again started proclaiming the Danes were (probably) the happiest folks on Earth.

Why? Because apparently they bring up their kids to have realistic expectations. Two cultural concepts are said to underpin the Danish psyche -- Janteloven and Hygge. I’ll not go heavy into them, but the former is essentially respect for conformity, while the latter connotes familiarity, cosiness, and comfort.

Contrast these values with American ideals -- like self-actualisation, exceptionalism, and popularity -- it starts to become clear why Europe is so far behind in the startup/unicorn stakes.

But Denmark’s a wealthy country. It’s up there in the top 25 GDP globally; not too far behind the US (and ahead of the UK). It’s also home to the world’s biggest toy company: Lego -- an organisation worth around US$5 billion -- revered the world over for manufacturing plastic bricks. Damn good ones at that.

Where cash is concerned, Yelp is actually worth less than Lego -- around the US$3.5 billion mark. Lego has been in business 72 years longer than Yelp, however. Money aside though; if longevity, community, and popularity are the yardsticks we use to measure success, Lego still beats Yelp hands down.

It seems the lure of success-as-incentive-enough is deeply ingrained in American culture -- which startup culture undisputedly derives from. But scratch beneath the surface: how is success defined? Is to generate personal wealth? Provide others with meaningful employment? Are the two mutually exclusive?

In an age of tech startups, accelerators, and venture capital, it’s easy to think that an idea seemingly anyone could concoct and create (with some geekish input) is a fast track to wealth of McDuck-esque proportions. It’s easy to lose sight of the fact that success in all its forms is borne of the blood, sweat, and tears of those willing to pitch in and create it. Fine if you’ve got an equity stake/meal ticket, but less so if you’re part of an underpaid majority turning the wheels of commerce for a few stale crusts.

I’m not saying this is the case at Yelp (or Lego for that matter) at all -- I have no experience of the daily reality there. And while I’m guessing Talia’s story is somewhat embellished, the prevailing sentiments expressed are both genuine and I’d presume shared by many in a similar situation to her.

So how do we remedy this? How do youngsters, fresh out of university, earn a decent crust, and align themselves with their preferred career trajectory in an unforgiving urban metropolis? Through compromise. By sharing a studio apartment with their two best friends, living frugally, trying to save cash, and cutting back on non-essentials. For a couple of years.

But compromise is not necessarily a skill that we’re ‘taught’ as such. It’s a behaviour we learn in childhood. Or at least it should be. ‘Having it all’ is at the centre of what many have been led to believe is the zenith of personal achievement.

Until we reach some sort of post-scarcity utopia, the materially-motivated among us will remain in pursuit of some obscure objects of desire. Chasing a dream is healthy -- up to a point. But when we’re willing to sacrifice our own happiness and sanity for it, we need to question why our ambitions are so out of step with the reality we’re presented with.

And if we’re going to give our younglings bags of soil -- American, Danish, or British varieties -- we should at least show them how to plant seeds and look after the green shoots.

No-one said it was gonna be easy…

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