Faust Revised

There is an old French proverb which, in effect, states: "The more things change the more they remain the same." I was reminded of its validity the other day by a conversation I overheard between two young college graduates exchanging their recent job interview experiences.

Primary among their concerns were the relative merits of retirement and pension plans offered by prospective employers. Of only secondary concern was the matter of salary or advancement or working conditions.

It's one thing to consider financial security five, ten, even fifteen years before retirement; but it seems so incongruous to find the young (who should be imbued with the spirit of adventure and discovery) not out there exploring uncharted new waters but reconnoitering retirement plans at the very outset of their careers.

It would seem that minds obsessed with thoughts of safety and long-range security are not free to be innovative and creative.

What a waste of energy and opportunity to mortgage one's present for the future. It plays like the Faustian saga, revised. You may recall that Faust is famous in legend, music and literature for his compact with Mephistopholes. He blithely strikes a bargain whereby he will be young again, savor all the worldly pleasures and attain his heart's every desire; in return, he agrees ultimately to give up his soul to the devil. It all proved illusory as he had a rather unhappy time of it.

Since historical times men have been fascinated with the idea of obtaining pleasures now for payment in the future. The current emphasis of the young on corporate pension plans, Keogh, IRA and the like would seem to revise the legend so as to pledge the present in return for future benefits. I hope such bargain does not prove as delusive as Faust's.

While I decry this undue preoccupation of the young with security, I can also empathize with it. I was raised in the Great Depression era during which, out of dire necessity, Franklin D. Roosevelt created many of the precursors of today's accepted social welfare programs. The widespread hunger and the over 25 percent unemployment of those times called for heroic measures.

I remember only too well how difficult it was to find a job when I graduated college in 1940. My first post-college job in accounting was for $5 per week. (One year's work experience was then a prerequisite for taking the CPA examination.) When I meekly requested of my employer, Irving Gross, an increase to $7, he in effect answered me with my earliest exposure to a version of what is now known as the trickle-down theory.

In essence, he stated that the war had just started in Europe, and that would eventually result in more business for the United States. When some of such business began to benefit Irving's clients, he would raise his fees and, thereafter, I might expect my $2 raise.

Moreover, the same Irving Gross in one simple sentence taught me a never-to-be-forgotten lesson which had a lot to do with shaping my future life. Before receiving the $5, I had to listen every week (and on my own time) to Irving's criticism of my previous week's work.

On one memorable occasion he criticized the handwriting in one of my work papers. Proud of my own handwriting and upset at what I deemed an unfair comment by one whose handwriting was grossly illegible, I brashly blurted out: "How can you criticize my handwriting; it's so much better than yours!" I'll never forget the stricken look on Irving's face as he shouted: "But I'm the Boss."

With that one succinct phrase he unknowingly set my future course. He was stating what I even then instinctively recognized as a verity of business life, and at that moment I inwardly vowed to be my own boss as soon as possible.

So these thoughts of the old days as a depression kid crossed my mind as I heard the young people emphasizing down-the-line retirement plans in their assessment of proposed employment. I fear that when security becomes a pervasive concern, creative fires are quenched and both individual and society are the poorer for it.