In last week’s column, I argued that leadership isn’t judged only by what we accomplish in office, but by the trust we leave behind. A reader then asked a sharper question: How do we sustain that trust when our newest employees, especially Gen Z, see little financial future in the organizations we lead?
The numbers are bleak: today’s twenty-somethings are the first cohort in modern U.S. history who, on average, expect to earn less than their parents after inflation. Housing prices read like luxury tags, student debt hovers like a permanent overdraft, and gig platforms promise instant alternatives to the traditional nine-to-five workday. A lucky few go viral and make millions on social media, reminding everyone else just how tilted the playing field feels. When the old bargain, work hard, move up, retire richer, looks fictional, why would a young engineer, teacher or civil servant commit to the long haul?
The public sector has wrestled with the same contradiction for decades. Pay grades are transparent, promotion slots are scarce and political appointments can reorder an org chart overnight. Time and again, brilliant young staffers produce heroic work for three years, then slide into quiet underperformance once they realize the ceiling is fixed in place. The problem is less generational than structural: wherever upside is capped and career paths are opaque, motivation decays.
Step one is honesty. If the next formal raise is two years away, a responsible manager must clearly communicate this – and then outline what can be achieved in the meantime. Employees aren’t children to be distracted with slogans; they’re investors allocating a finite resource: time. Once the ceiling is clear, managers need new currencies of reward. Two stand out: First, skills as equity. In a world where expertise ages like yogurt, people will trade short-term pay for long-term employability. Cloud-computing certificates, data visualization boot camps, or language courses often cost less than a modest raise yet dramatically boost a young professional’s market value. Secondly, impact as income. When monetary progress stalls, meaning moves to the foreground. Front-line teachers who know exactly how many students jumped a grade because of their program or engineers who see the product they designed in real-world use, earn a sense of achievement that outlasts any annual bonus.
Traditional promotion charts look like stepladders; break a rung and there’s nowhere to go. A better metaphor is the career lattice, where lateral moves accumulate into a portfolio of expertise. Cross-department rotations, temporary leadership of high-profile projects, or six-month assignments abroad can build a resume as valuable as a new title – sometimes more so in an economy where agility beats permanence.
Public institutions already use a version of this: secondment. An officer seconded to an international agency returns fluent in multilateral negotiation; a city engineer who spends six months in disaster relief gains crisis-management skills no classroom can replicate. Lateral experiences cost less than sweeping pay reform yet repay themselves in institutional capacity and employee morale.
Pay and titles are only part of the trust architecture. Daily behavior sets the tone long after the last paycheck clears. One senior official I admire concludes every weekly briefing by asking each junior teammate to identify one obstacle blocking progress; the group then allocates resources on the spot. Another insists every policy memo finish with a half-page on human impact – in plain language, not jargon. These micro-rituals remind staff that their work is visible, valued and consequential.
Seasoned managers must retire the reflex, “We had it tougher.” Maybe they did. They also bought apartments at lower income multiples and joined a labor market that rewarded tenure by default. Today’s graduates arrive with fewer guarantees; they respond by demanding clarity, autonomy and relevance. That isn’t entitlement; it’s rational self-preservation.
Leaders who grasp this shift can still inspire excellence – trade opacity for context, annual reviews for real-time feedback, and vertical ascent for skill-based progression. Articulate the public value of every task, guard learning budgets as fiercely as salary budgets, and be transparent about the ceiling.
The ladder may be rusting, but motivation doesn’t have to. Reframed opportunities, visible impact and honest terms can keep the next generation restless and committed – long enough to move the mission forward, and perhaps to build a stronger foundation for those who follow.
