It’s easy to spot a member of the recession generation. They’re the sober, thoughtful young people. They’re our sons, daughters, nieces, nephews and friends aged between about 18 and 23 and beginning their adult lives at a time when six million are on benefits. Like the generation above, they love iPods and TopShop. But they’re not as brash or confident as their older siblings. And this is because they have just taken an almighty knock at an early stage in their young lives. They feel that someone has stolen their future. Generation Recession are confused and cross because they’ve been sold a pup by the government, their teachers and even their parents. Everyone impressed on them the vital importance of continuing education: you must get A*s at A-level, you must go to university, said the grown-ups. Well — why? What exactly can they do with their hard-won degrees? Each morning, as they wake up in their childhood bedrooms (no job, so no renting) and contemplate the prospect of another day writing letters begging for unpaid work experience, they wonder: what was all that schooling for?
This feeling — of despair, despondency and betrayal — is likely to have a long-lasting effect on their beliefs and values. And this is why Generation Recession is far more than just an economic horror story. The financial crisis will shape their whole outlook on life. They’ll be irrevocably moulded by the credit crunch, and their experience of it may well define Britain’s future. They feel not just different from, but mugged by the baby boomers, who ran up an almighty debt which those seeking work must now repay.
According to a new sub-branch of economics, the way we view risk, the way we choose to invest, even our political predilections are determined by the prevailing economic conditions in our late teens and early twenties.
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