Why are Gen Z so obsessed with how much money we're making?
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
I’m aware I share my name with many people—mostly Mexican, all of them men. A professional wrestler, an award-winning author, and even some ex-convicts. But someone that never popped up in my previous Google searches was a popular local influencer.
A PR agency had accidentally sent me a partnership quotation meant for a content creator whose name was similar to mine. Before the rational part of my brain could stop me, I took a peek. Seeing six figures for a row of Instagram posts made my eyes pop out of their sockets. And before the rational part of my brain could stop me again, I told my closest friends.
Once upon a time, financial matters like this were off-limits in everyday conversation. Money talk is tasteless if we make too much, and tragic if we don’t have enough. But today, there’s no story easier or more entertaining to tell than how much someone has in the bank. We sift through Glassdoor company salary reviews prior to the interview process, gawk at shocking rent reveals of high-rise apartments, and dutifully follow the budget breakdowns of young professionals who live alone. Why is that, when it was once a topic shrouded in secrecy?
It seems that Gen Z is obsessed with being rich. You might think: Aren’t we all, though? Who wouldn’t want to come into an obscene amount of wealth? “Mass consumerism has become a deeply ingrained societal value. We’ve been socialized to believe that a fulfilling life is one where we can purchase what we desire,” explains Jerome Cleofas, head of De La Salle University’s Department of Sociology and Behavioral Sciences.
But while previous generations only had peers within their proximity to pit themselves against, the social media machine invites us to be voyeurs into anyone’s lifestyle. Nepo babies with side hustles funded by their safety nets are under the same scrutiny as virtual assistants, who can afford condominium units and cars from the comfort of their home offices.
Add to that the fact that Gen Z came of age in a time characterized by consecutive sociopolitical crises. Having grown up with a mindset of perpetual scarcity, it’s no wonder why we never feel like we’re enough. “This period of emotional, identity, and moral development was shaped by instability on multiple fronts. These formative experiences, combined with the uncertainties that come with being young adults today, contribute to a pervasive sense of economic and even psychological insecurity,” Cleofas tells PhilSTAR L!fe.
As a result, we could suffer from a collective case of money dysmorphia: this unshakeable, sinking feeling of financial instability and insecurity, no matter how well off we actually are. I’ve noticed many of us are torn between critiquing the social structures widening the wealth gap and dreaming of a reversal in fortune. One glaring example: Some of those halfheartedly clamoring to “eat the rich” after watching Parasite and Saltburn not too long ago are now dressing themselves in head-to-toe designer and calling themselves “quiet luxury” or “old money.”
In a way, financial transparency isn’t just an outlet for social comparison. It’s also a means for survival, in a world where we can so easily be cheated by the system. If we see someone who shares our job description making P10,000 more than we do, we are prompted to negotiate. If a random stranger with an entry-level position can afford to travel often, maybe there’s an investment tip or saving scheme we can also follow.
According to clinical psychologist Lordy Santos, the difference between Gen Z and millennials from a psychosocial point of view is that the former "are more open to unconventional ways of earning or making money, and could be more open to taking risks than young millennials who would usually prefer to rely on conventional ways that are more secure or safe.”
Problems with personal finances can be some of the loneliest to tackle. Haven’t we all faked sickness to get out of social events, when the real reason was petsa de peligro? But with trends like loud budgeting, it’s comforting to learn that we’re not the only ones making active efforts to reduce our spending or finding workarounds just to make ends meet. Honestly, society would have progressed further if these conversations were destigmatized long ago.
Santos, however, warns that like anything else on social media, things aren’t always what they seem. “Algorithms can take over one’s timeline, bombarding them with similar posts and creating an illusion that most people are living in luxury,” he tells L!fe. In reality, the girl who owns a swanky apartment straight out of college might leave out the fact that her parents help her pay for groceries and transportation. The travel vlogger known for his budget-friendly excursions might be knee-deep in debt, as a result of several Buy Now, Pay Later schemes.
Having access to all this information, after all, is supposed to be a force for good. “If recognized and directed towards a low-risk set of behaviors, [learning of these] experiences can potentially motivate individuals to become better versions of themselves, provided that they should also know their limitations,” Santos advises.
Maybe it’ll push us to set higher standards or show up for ourselves, which is a net positive. But if we end up resenting those who have more than we do, rather than the systems responsible for these disparities, perhaps we should all know less about each other.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.
