Yeppies
- pl. Short for “young experimenting perfection seekers.” Adrift in a world of conflicting opportunities, these chronically dissatisfied twentysomethings approach life as an exercise in comparison shopping, refusing to commit for fear of missing a better offer.
— From November 2005, Wired magazine’s Jargon Watch, compiled by Jonathon Keats
You bet, I thought. I’ve watched this trend for 15 years — now here it is in full flower: yeppies. That’s rich.
Call it options-paralysis if you like. The poet Mark Heard saw this coming in a 1982 song: Caught between these voices / the sirens and the sage / one too many choices for the victims of the age. And I’ve seen it over and over in 15 years helping companies grapple with the challenge of identifying, retaining and developing future leaders. Are there yeppies in my generation? Certainly. Does everyone in the age cohorts behind me suffer from options-paralysis? Certainly not. But many do. It’s an unintended consequence in a culture of multiplying choices and the Next Big Thing. And, just so we’re clear, perfection seeking is more than shopping for the ultimate cell phone or flat panel TV. It’s also about career choices (do I stay or do I go?) and personal relationships (think marriage).
The freedom to choose may be the most powerful gift God gave humankind. And, I think, if God has one problem with humans as a class, it’s our history of poor choices, dating back to the first of our kind. It’s also the biggest problem we have with each other — where choices multiply for some and shrink for others in sometimes deadly zero sum games.
I don’t think the antidote to perfection seeking and options-paralysis lies in merely producing ever more refined options and choices — as flattering and cool as that appears on the face of it.
Part of what’s attractive about multiple options is the sense of being served, the promise of control. This is certainly nothing new. It was the “Have it Your Way” campaign that made Burger King a player back in the day, where having it my way meant I was allowed to dress my own hamburger or fish sandwich at the BK condiment bar. This did not exactly make me the master of my fate but it seemed better than just taking what some kids in a paper hat pulled from under a warming lamp. Of course, before the Burger King offered it to me my way, the Queen of Hearts was Lady Clairol, whose heady declaration of independence, “If I have only one life, let me live it as a blonde” really did change the way Americans thought about the cards we were dealt.
And so the story goes until multiple options have become the assumed cultural context for decisions large and small. But I don’t think God mandated multiple options is the primary context for our choices. I think the context of our choices is defined by higher order considerations: the character of God and the call of God — who God is and what God does.
Who God is and what God does
I think our choices must be guided by God’s character. The operative question is: To what extent do my choices reflect my character, a character that increasingly reflects God’s image? And I think our choices must be guided by God’s calling. Each of us was created for a purpose. And, in God’s economy, purpose is never about me; it’s about serving others and honoring God. I’m convinced it is in the fulfillment of our purpose that we are satisfied.
Ever notice how, absent character and calling, more and more options just make us more dissatisfied and less content? That’s what we get for our trouble when worshiping at the altar of consumerism. Conversely, there is a satisfaction that comes in making choices that enable us to behave like who we are meant to be in character and calling.
We all know someone — maybe as close as the man in the mirror — who can’t even enjoy a humble glass of wine because it’s not a great glass of wine; someone for whom no experience is satisfactory unless it’s the best-of-class. How do you do business with such people, let alone invite them to your home for dinner? Their quest in life seems absorbed in pursuing only the best…for themselves, not others. “I’m worth it…I deserve this…I earned it,” is how they rationalize that.
Is choice inherently bad? Of course not.
Is choice inherently bad? Of course not. Most options are inconsequential (who cares how many different colored socks I wear, aside from my wife and daughters?). But pushed to an extreme, where we begin to feel there must always be some better option, if we just wait it out, we learn to delay rather than commit. This is not patience; it is aloofness. We learn to hold out for the better offer instead of acting on the basis of our calling. In the end we forget that it’s not about what others do for us in the form of multiple options, but what we do for others by making responsible choices that honor God.
Choice, absent character and calling, becomes selfish entitlement. It becomes all about me. Choice, full of character and calling, can change my life and the lives of those around me. It becomes all about my ability to trust God and serve others.
- What is the sense of character and calling that frames your choices?
- How does that affect your convictions about giving your customers what they want?
- Has your pursuit of the perfect option affected your relationships, your commitments, your ability to lose yourself in serving others? If so, how would go about pursuing do-overs with the injured parties?
- What can you do in the next 90 days to help young leaders in your company discover and live out their calling and enduring purpose?
- Consider Mark 10:45, “For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” How does this play out in a world of infinite choices?
