Jeremy Wolf thinks so. After graduating from Columbia Business School last year, Wolf went to work for an Internet developer based in San Francisco and was charged with opening its New York office. He was 29 years old.
From the beginning, he thought he was wearing too many hats. In addition to finding office space and purchasing equipment, he says he consistently networked with clients late into the evenings. He felt he was always running late, "to the gym, to the office for a meeting, to dinner" and had no time to visit his family in California or take vacations alone with his girlfriend of the time.
Maybe the sacrifices would have been worth it. But at the end of last month, he says, his company, Fluid Inc. decided to not give out annual bonuses. Within a week, he resigned and now plans to move back to California, where he'll be closer to his parents.
Talk about arrested development. Wolf is part of a cluster of 20- and 30-somethings who cut their professional teeth at a time when the possibilities seemed endless (think stock options at 27, retirement by 32), if only you worked hard enough and sacrificed all things personal. But as the so-called New Economy undergoes a reality check, many of these young pioneers are reassessing their priorities in a manner that belies their age.
One disillusioned dot-commer abandoned the tech world at age 25 to become a junior-high math teacher, while a 29-year-old new millionaire took up race-car driving as he pondered whether to return to work -- ever. And though there is no official tally, counselors and religious groups say a growing number of the disenchanted are coming to them and asking: Is this all there is to life?
"I think people of this (young) age are looking for something deeper than the rat race," says the Rev. Greg Cootsona, whose Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York launched a lecture series this fall called "Faith, Hope, and Love in the New Economy." They feel they "bought into a dream, but the dream didn't give them what they thought," he says.
Such feelings have traditionally plagued 40- and 50-year-olds who had worked for decades to achieve their dreams, only to find them unsatisfying or illusive. But the New Economy has triggered all that on Internet time -- success, riches, disillusion -- and for a much younger group.
For some, the riches have been beyond imagination. Last year, roughly one-third of "millionaire" American households were headed by someone between the ages of 18 and 39, up almost 15% from 1990, according to Mendelsohn Media Research in New York. In the Internet world in particular, a good idea and hard work could bring instant riches without years of toiling under a middle-aged manager's tutelage.
"I never had to wait for someone to quit the firm so I could get a promotion," says Mark Jacobstein, the 30-year-old chief executive officer of Small World Media Inc., which organizes online fantasy sports leagues.
High expectations were set; barely a week passed in the waning '90s without a prospective baby billionaire appearing barefoot on a magazine cover, flush with post-IPO success. So when the Internet bubble burst this past spring, many who had bought into the dream suffered a sort of professional and personal whiplash.
"People have a crisis of confidence when they see that something they believed in or felt good about goes sour," says Peter Karp, 26, a recently laid off dot-commer who now is trying his hand as a full-time jazz and rock drummer. In the Internet's case, Karp observes, "it went sour in like one year."
Suddenly the focus was no longer on the success stories but on sagging stock prices and skittish venture capitalists. Internet layoffs and company closings are now tallied regularly on the Web site of the Industry Standard magazine; as of Tuesday, 245 dot-coms had laid off at least 22,155 employees and 42 of them had closed altogether since the end of last year. The ghoulish scrutiny has left a nagging feeling among some New Economy refugees who wondered if the best years of their lives, professionally, might be over.
"We will never in our lifetime (again) experience what's happened these last three or four years," says 29-year-old Seth Baum, who turned down a $150,000 consulting job for a top executive slot at the now-defunct Petstore.com.
Certainly, every generation faces coming-of-age questions or unrest in first jobs. And throughout history there have been great technological advances -- from electricity and internal combustion engines to the railroad -- where people "on the frontier take a big shot and get trounced" when things slow down, says Elyce Rotella, professor of economics at Indiana University. Can you suffer a midlife crisis only a few years out of college?
Jeremy Wolf thinks so. After graduating from Columbia Business School last year, Wolf went to work for an Internet developer based in San Francisco and was charged with opening its New York office. He was 29 years old.
From the beginning, he thought he was wearing too many hats. In addition to finding office space and purchasing equipment, he says he consistently networked with clients late into the evenings. He felt he was always running late, "to the gym, to the office for a meeting, to dinner" and had no time to visit his family in California or take vacations alone with his girlfriend of the time.
Maybe the sacrifices would have been worth it. But at the end of last month, he says, his company, Fluid Inc. decided to not give out annual bonuses. Within a week, he resigned and now plans to move back to California, where he'll be closer to his parents.
Talk about arrested development. Wolf is part of a cluster of 20- and 30-somethings who cut their professional teeth at a time when the possibilities seemed endless (think stock options at 27, retirement by 32), if only you worked hard enough and sacrificed all things personal. But as the so-called New Economy undergoes a reality check, many of these young pioneers are reassessing their priorities in a manner that belies their age.
One disillusioned dot-commer abandoned the tech world at age 25 to become a junior-high math teacher, while a 29-year-old new millionaire took up race-car driving as he pondered whether to return to work -- ever. And though there is no official tally, counselors and religious groups say a growing number of the disenchanted are coming to them and asking: Is this all there is to life?
"I think people of this (young) age are looking for something deeper than the rat race," says the Rev. Greg Cootsona, whose Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York launched a lecture series this fall called "Faith, Hope, and Love in the New Economy." They feel they "bought into a dream, but the dream didn't give them what they thought," he says.
Such feelings have traditionally plagued 40- and 50-year-olds who had worked for decades to achieve their dreams, only to find them unsatisfying or illusive. But the New Economy has triggered all that on Internet time -- success, riches, disillusion -- and for a much younger group.
For some, the riches have been beyond imagination. Last year, roughly one-third of "millionaire" American households were headed by someone between the ages of 18 and 39, up almost 15% from 1990, according to Mendelsohn Media Research in New York. In the Internet world in particular, a good idea and hard work could bring instant riches without years of toiling under a middle-aged manager's tutelage.
"I never had to wait for someone to quit the firm so I could get a promotion," says Mark Jacobstein, the 30-year-old chief executive officer of Small World Media Inc., which organizes online fantasy sports leagues.
High expectations were set; barely a week passed in the waning '90s without a prospective baby billionaire appearing barefoot on a magazine cover, flush with post-IPO success. So when the Internet bubble burst this past spring, many who had bought into the dream suffered a sort of professional and personal whiplash.
"People have a crisis of confidence when they see that something they believed in or felt good about goes sour," says Peter Karp, 26, a recently laid off dot-commer who now is trying his hand as a full-time jazz and rock drummer. In the Internet's case, Karp observes, "it went sour in like one year."
Suddenly the focus was no longer on the success stories but on sagging stock prices and skittish venture capitalists. Internet layoffs and company closings are now tallied regularly on the Web site of the Industry Standard magazine; as of Tuesday, 245 dot-coms had laid off at least 22,155 employees and 42 of them had closed altogether since the end of last year. The ghoulish scrutiny has left a nagging feeling among some New Economy refugees who wondered if the best years of their lives, professionally, might be over.
"We will never in our lifetime (again) experience what's happened these last three or four years," says 29-year-old Seth Baum, who turned down a $150,000 consulting job for a top executive slot at the now-defunct Petstore.com.
Certainly, every generation faces coming-of-age questions or unrest in first jobs. And throughout history there have been great technological advances -- from electricity and internal combustion engines to the railroad -- where people "on the frontier take a big shot and get trounced" when things slow down, says Elyce Rotella, professor of economics at Indiana University. Still, it's as if a segment of today's young adults came of age too fast and lost something en route. The pattern for human development usually includes acquiring skills related to personal intimacy, time management, and exploration of culture alongside professional growth, says Ellen McGrath, a New York-based psychologist who specializes in work/life issues. But because many Internet entrepreneurs averaged 70- to 80-hour weeks, everything but work got put on hold.
The peer pressure in Silicon Valley is "to have no life," says 29-year-old Theo Song, who left a consulting job at Bain & Co. for a Web startup in the Valley but returned to Bain in Los Angeles this fall. "It was almost as if you are purely in execution mode, with no time to reflect or think if this was the right trajectory for me."
There is also the burden of being handed so much responsibility so early. McGrath, the psychologist, also runs an executive-coaching business and often finds herself counseling frantic young workers calling from cell phones outside their offices. "This is the first generation that has spawned casualties of the speed disease," McGrath says. "They were promoted so quickly that at 29 or 30 they are in the same position they typically would be at 50."
For those caught in the dot-com shakeout, the crash was an unexpected wakeup call. What concerns some counselors is whether those suffering major disappointments can see that they are still at a very early stage in life. "You have folks in their 20s who have never ridden out bad times," says Arlene Krohmal, executive director of CrisisLink, a nonprofit counseling venture in Washington, D.C. "When you don't have the experience riding out bad times, you don't have a basis to fall back on. It's very important that those lacking basic experience have good coping skills."
The answer for some is taking time to reflect on what really matters to them. At 26, Ilana Raz says she felt defeated when she realized her job at an upstart Internet health-care firm wasn't leading her where she wanted to go professionally. With her friendships and relationship strained from the stress of being unhappy, the honors graduate from Lehigh University left her big title and $80,000 salary in September determined to seek more meaning in her life. Should she pursue her life-long passion -- photography -- or go back to school to study biotechnology, another hot up-and-coming sector? Looking for inspiration, Raz picked up Maria Shriver's book, "Ten Things I Wish I'd Known Before I Went Out Into the Real World," and had regular lunches with her parents to seek their guidance.
"I can't believe how grown-up I've become overnight," Raz muses. "These experiences have taken away my naivete." Maybe it's part of growing up, she says, but sometimes "I want that back."
For those who scored big financially in the Internet boom, the question "What next?" can be equally vexing. At 29, Michael Klein has run three start-ups, retired once for a few weeks and seen his last company, eGroups Inc., acquired by Yahoo! Inc. in August for about $450 million in stock. Since then, Klein has caught up on movies with his wife and has even taken up race-car driving. Where he works next is unclear, because having already chalked up so much experience, "some of the thrill" is gone, he says.
He could retire permanently, and yet the pace seems too slow. "I had let a lot of things go by the wayside, like getting your taxes done on time, spending time with friends and family." he says. "But I really quickly realized that the amount of time it takes to do those sort of things isn't enough to fill a day. Maybe I'd like them more if I were traditional retirement age, but now, it's not my cup of tea."
As part of their search for grounding, some young workers are looking to spirituality. At the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York, 60 percent of new members are now in their 20s and 30s. Several books have been written examining religion and the Web, including one called "The Talmud and the Internet: A Journey between Worlds," by Jonathan Rosen, former culture editor of the national Jewish newspaper the Forward.
Meanwhile, a sermon last year at the Peninsula Bible Church in Palo Alto, Calif., seemed aimed directly at young dot-commers. "In Silicon Valley, work has become God," said Rev. Scott Grant. "We have bowed down before the altar of the almighty silicon chip. We have given it the best part of ourselves."
Typically, it's a life event that brings people back to church, adds the Rev. Paul Lent, with Marble Collegiate Church in New York. Today, he finds "people have lost their way that much earlier."
That uncertainty is leading some, particularly disillusioned dot-com alumni, back to the very stability they once shunned. This past summer, Andersen Consulting wrote letters to ex-employees promising special benefits if they returned; by the end of August, at least 108 -- some of them under 30 -- had accepted the offer.
Robert Kanabay came back. In April, 26-year-old Kanabay left Andersen Consulting to join a Chicago Internet development consulting firm. "I thought I could advance my career faster; I thought I could make a lot more money a lot faster by leaving Andersen," he says. Almost immediately, though, he missed the "caliber" of his Andersen co-workers and realized he had taken for granted having necessary resources to get his work done. He remembers his embarrassment during an important presentation to one client when only half of the Web prototype worked.
"The entire stint at the dot-com startup was a midlife crisis or early-life crisis," he says. Now back at Andersen, Kanabay says he is more appreciative of what makes the company "so neat" -- things such as mentors and having "all the training needs I need or want" met. Forget slave hours: Mr. Kanabay now keeps a balanced 40-hour week, never works weekends and plans to "enjoy my life and travel as much as possible."
The silver lining to the early angst is that by reassessing their priorities so early in life, this generation could ultimately lead far more balanced lives than their parents did. Not only do many boast extraordinary work experience, but they are developing a maturity far beyond their years.
In the early days of running his startup, Small World Media's Jacobstein says, "I was working too hard. I couldn't remember whether it was Monday or Tuesday. I didn't know if it was fall. I would look up and the trees were yellow." Recently, though, he has tried to get distance, both for himself and his staff. Employees are given gym discounts and offered swing and tango lessons to encourage them to unwind. Meanwhile, Jacobstein tries to limit himself to only four to six hours of work on the weekend and makes an effort to head home by 7 p.m.
Likewise, Raz took some time before choosing her next employer. Right after leaving the health Internet company, she did once unthinkable tasks, such as cooking her boyfriend dinner or going to a museum in the middle of the week. "At the end of the day, you wake up at 26 and start thinking about putting all this into a career and being a mom doesn't sound so bad."
And yet, it's not that simple. Despite all her soul-searching and visions of settling down, Raz still finds herself drawn to the dream of phenomenal success. She currently has two job offers on the table -- both at Internet pharmaceutical companies. "You hear of these people succeeding," in magazines and newspapers, she says, "and you want to be them -- to be the next story of the person who created exactly what they want and have a huge smile on their face."
-- Suein Hwang contributed to this article. Still, it's as if a segment of today's young adults came of age too fast and lost something en route. The pattern for human development usually includes acquiring skills related to personal intimacy, time management, and exploration of culture alongside professional growth, says Ellen McGrath, a New York-based psychologist who specializes in work/life issues. But because many Internet entrepreneurs averaged 70- to 80-hour weeks, everything but work got put on hold.
The peer pressure in Silicon Valley is "to have no life," says 29-year-old Theo Song, who left a consulting job at Bain & Co. for a Web startup in the Valley but returned to Bain in Los Angeles this fall. "It was almost as if you are purely in execution mode, with no time to reflect or think if this was the right trajectory for me."
There is also the burden of being handed so much responsibility so early. McGrath, the psychologist, also runs an executive-coaching business and often finds herself counseling frantic young workers calling from cell phones outside their offices. "This is the first generation that has spawned casualties of the speed disease," McGrath says. "They were promoted so quickly that at 29 or 30 they are in the same position they typically would be at 50."
For those caught in the dot-com shakeout, the crash was an unexpected wakeup call. What concerns some counselors is whether those suffering major disappointments can see that they are still at a very early stage in life. "You have folks in their 20s who have never ridden out bad times," says Arlene Krohmal, executive director of CrisisLink, a nonprofit counseling venture in Washington, D.C. "When you don't have the experience riding out bad times, you don't have a basis to fall back on. It's very important that those lacking basic experience have good coping skills."
The answer for some is taking time to reflect on what really matters to them. At 26, Ilana Raz says she felt defeated when she realized her job at an upstart Internet health-care firm wasn't leading her where she wanted to go professionally. With her friendships and relationship strained from the stress of being unhappy, the honors graduate from Lehigh University left her big title and $80,000 salary in September determined to seek more meaning in her life. Should she pursue her life-long passion -- photography -- or go back to school to study biotechnology, another hot up-and-coming sector? Looking for inspiration, Raz picked up Maria Shriver's book, "Ten Things I Wish I'd Known Before I Went Out Into the Real World," and had regular lunches with her parents to seek their guidance.
"I can't believe how grown-up I've become overnight," Raz muses. "These experiences have taken away my naivete." Maybe it's part of growing up, she says, but sometimes "I want that back."
For those who scored big financially in the Internet boom, the question "What next?" can be equally vexing. At 29, Michael Klein has run three start-ups, retired once for a few weeks and seen his last company, eGroups Inc., acquired by Yahoo! Inc. in August for about $450 million in stock. Since then, Klein has caught up on movies with his wife and has even taken up race-car driving. Where he works next is unclear, because having already chalked up so much experience, "some of the thrill" is gone, he says.
He could retire permanently, and yet the pace seems too slow. "I had let a lot of things go by the wayside, like getting your taxes done on time, spending time with friends and family." he says. "But I really quickly realized that the amount of time it takes to do those sort of things isn't enough to fill a day. Maybe I'd like them more if I were traditional retirement age, but now, it's not my cup of tea."
As part of their search for grounding, some young workers are looking to spirituality. At the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York, 60 percent of new members are now in their 20s and 30s. Several books have been written examining religion and the Web, including one called "The Talmud and the Internet: A Journey between Worlds," by Jonathan Rosen, former culture editor of the national Jewish newspaper the Forward.
Meanwhile, a sermon last year at the Peninsula Bible Church in Palo Alto, Calif., seemed aimed directly at young dot-commers. "In Silicon Valley, work has become God," said Rev. Scott Grant. "We have bowed down before the altar of the almighty silicon chip. We have given it the best part of ourselves."
Typically, it's a life event that brings people back to church, adds the Rev. Paul Lent, with Marble Collegiate Church in New York. Today, he finds "people have lost their way that much earlier."
That uncertainty is leading some, particularly disillusioned dot-com alumni, back to the very stability they once shunned. This past summer, Andersen Consulting wrote letters to ex-employees promising special benefits if they returned; by the end of August, at least 108 -- some of them under 30 -- had accepted the offer.
Robert Kanabay came back. In April, 26-year-old Kanabay left Andersen Consulting to join a Chicago Internet development consulting firm. "I thought I could advance my career faster; I thought I could make a lot more money a lot faster by leaving Andersen," he says. Almost immediately, though, he missed the "caliber" of his Andersen co-workers and realized he had taken for granted having necessary resources to get his work done. He remembers his embarrassment during an important presentation to one client when only half of the Web prototype worked.
"The entire stint at the dot-com startup was a midlife crisis or early-life crisis," he says. Now back at Andersen, Kanabay says he is more appreciative of what makes the company "so neat" -- things such as mentors and having "all the training needs I need or want" met. Forget slave hours: Mr. Kanabay now keeps a balanced 40-hour week, never works weekends and plans to "enjoy my life and travel as much as possible."
The silver lining to the early angst is that by reassessing their priorities so early in life, this generation could ultimately lead far more balanced lives than their parents did. Not only do many boast extraordinary work experience, but they are developing a maturity far beyond their years.
In the early days of running his startup, Small World Media's Jacobstein says, "I was working too hard. I couldn't remember whether it was Monday or Tuesday. I didn't know if it was fall. I would look up and the trees were yellow." Recently, though, he has tried to get distance, both for himself and his staff. Employees are given gym discounts and offered swing and tango lessons to encourage them to unwind. Meanwhile, Jacobstein tries to limit himself to only four to six hours of work on the weekend and makes an effort to head home by 7 p.m.
Likewise, Raz took some time before choosing her next employer. Right after leaving the health Internet company, she did once unthinkable tasks, such as cooking her boyfriend dinner or going to a museum in the middle of the week. "At the end of the day, you wake up at 26 and start thinking about putting all this into a career and being a mom doesn't sound so bad."
And yet, it's not that simple. Despite all her soul-searching and visions of settling down, Raz still finds herself drawn to the dream of phenomenal success. She currently has two job offers on the table -- both at Internet pharmaceutical companies. "You hear of these people succeeding," in magazines and newspapers, she says, "and you want to be them -- to be the next story of the person who created exactly what they want and have a huge smile on their face."
-- Suein Hwang contributed to this article.
