牢騷滿腹的千禧一代令人失望

The barbed office farewell that goes viral is now so commonplace there seems to be room for a sub-genre: the barbed office farewell by audit trainees at the big professional services firms.

受到瘋傳的充滿諷刺的離職告別信已成為一種司空見慣的現(xiàn)象，似乎可以生出一個子類：大專業(yè)服務(wù)公司的審計培訓(xùn)生們寫的充滿諷刺的離職告別信。

The latest comes from Oliver Alcock, a Durham University graduate and former trainee auditor at PwC, who two months ago spent his last day detailing why he had not made the grade.

最近的一封出自奧利弗•阿爾科克(Oliver Alcock)。他畢業(yè)于英國杜倫大學(xué)(Durham University)，曾是普華永道(PwC)的審計培訓(xùn)生，兩個月前，他在離職的當天，詳細地敘述了自己為什么沒有達標的原因。

“I haven’t particularly enjoyed much of [my] time at PwC largely related to exam stress and having a low boredom threshold,” he wrote, listing things he “didn’t do” (“learn anything in a PwC training course”, “consistently pass exams”) and some he did (“a tour of Stoke-on-Trent’s finest supermarket pharmacies”, “claimed a lot of mileage money”).

“在普華永道的大部分時間我都不是很開心，這很大程度上是由于考核的壓力，和我自身容易厭倦的個性，”他寫道，他列出了“他沒做到的事”(“在普華永道的培訓(xùn)課程中學(xué)到東西”，“不斷通過各種考核”)，和一些他做到的事(“參觀特倫特河畔斯托克市最好的藥品超市”，“報銷大量差旅費”)。

That there is a small but expanding archive of failed accountants’ emails to their bosses is no surprise. Major firms have to recruit vast numbers simply to cover the attrition rate as more senior colleagues parlay their experience into jobs elsewhere. The law of averages (possibly one of the modules Mr Alcock failed to complete) suggests there are bound to be more disgruntled former would-be auditors than, say, unhappy ex-trainee sailmakers.

也難怪向老板寫郵件的未通過考核的會計師越來越多。隨著較資深的員工們憑借工作經(jīng)驗另謀他就，僅僅為了彌補離職率，大公司就不得不廣招新丁。概率(或許這也是阿爾科克未能通過的課程之一)表明，心懷不滿的前準審計師勢必會比，比方說，不開心的前見習修帆工要多。

Mr Alcock would be wrong to assume, though, that a rude email sent in his 20s will fade into the wallpaper of public resignation letters. For one thing, the Daily Mail picked up the story. A job-seeking graduate I interviewed a few years ago had the misfortune to be acquitted on a colourful charge that caught the Mail’s eye: her court appearance still pops up on the first page of any online search of her name.

倘若阿爾科克認為，20多歲時發(fā)過的一封粗魯?shù)碾x職郵件會隨著時間淡出公眾的視野，那他就錯了。首先，《每日郵報》(Daily Mail)已經(jīng)刊登了他的事跡。幾年前，我面試過一個剛剛大學(xué)畢業(yè)的求職者，不幸的是，她被判無罪的一個不太光彩的案子引起《每日郵報》的注意：如今隨便在網(wǎng)上搜索她的名字，仍會在首頁看到她出庭受審的信息。

By voicing his laddish insouciance about his failure to pass his exams, Mr Alcock has not only transgressed Lucy Kellaway’s law of “I quit” etiquette — “A resignation statement is not a time for truth, it is a time for politeness and for causing minimum upset” — he has done his peers a disservice.

阿爾科克幼稚地表達對自己未能通過考核的滿不在乎，不僅有違露西•凱拉韋(Lucy Kellaway)提出的“我要辭職”的禮儀法則——“辭職聲明不是坦陳真相的時候，而是一個表現(xiàn)禮貌并將造成的不安最小化的時機”——而且他的所作所為給他的同齡人扯了后腿。

The manner and tone of his incontinent email allows older critics to fit him to the stereotype of “entitled millennials”, unable or unwilling to buckle down and do the basic tasks their elders did. Plenty of graduates take up high-profile traineeships with their eyes open, ready to be worked hard for a couple of years so they can add Goldman Sachs, McKinsey or PwC to their curriculum.

年長的評論家們會認為，他這封無所顧忌的電子郵件表現(xiàn)出的態(tài)度和語氣，很符合“慣壞的千禧一代”的做派，他們沒有能力也不愿意踏踏實實去做前輩們以往做過的基礎(chǔ)工作。眾多畢業(yè)生一心想到名企當培訓(xùn)生，準備努力干上幾年，就能將高盛(Goldman Sachs)、麥肯錫(McKinsey)或普華永道的工作經(jīng)歷加進履歷。

Many people the same age as Mr Alcock do not even reach the threshold of the big groups. About 45,800 applied for 3,000 entry-level roles at PwC UK this year. It is normal, even inevitable, that some trainees will hate the job; it may even be understandable that a few should wilfully squander “the opportunity of a lifetime”, as PwC UK calls it on its recruitment website; but to moan publicly about how rubbish the experience was when others are fighting for the chance to try it is unforgivable.

許多與阿爾科克年紀相仿的人甚至還達不到大公司的入職要求。今年，大約有45800人應(yīng)聘普華永道英國的3000個入門職位。有些培訓(xùn)生會厭惡這里的工作是正常的，甚至是難免的;普華永道英國在招聘網(wǎng)站上說，這是“一次一生難遇的機遇”，而對少數(shù)肆意揮霍了這一機遇的人，我們甚至都能理解;但就在其他人尚在為博得一個嘗試的機會而拼搏之際，當眾抱怨在這里工作有多糟糕則不可原諒。

PwC says it wishes Mr Alcock well and “hopes he finds a career that is right for him”. But there is a lesson here, too, for all voracious graduate recruiters — and it is not only that they should take a close look at a process that let the plainly unsuitable Mr Alcock through.

普華永道表示祝阿爾科克一切順利，并“希望他能找到適合自己的職業(yè)”。然而，對所有求賢若渴的應(yīng)屆生招聘者來說，這也是個教訓(xùn)——不僅僅是應(yīng)該仔細審視竟讓明顯不合適的阿爾科克過關(guān)的招聘程序。

Large companies make vast play of how they are becoming more purposeful, socially aware and work-life balanced, in part because they know this is a good way to attract idealistic younger recruits. Mr Alcock may be an untrustworthy witness, but the fact he described the PwC programme as a “meat grinder” and spent part of his stint in “three business units gradually getting further and further away from the work I signed up for” shows how big the gap can be between glossy promises and gritty reality.

大公司極力向外界展示，他們正在如何變得更具使命感和社會意識，以及更加注重工作與生活的平衡，部分原因在于他們知道這是一個吸引理想年輕應(yīng)聘者的好辦法。阿爾科克也許不是一個可信的見證者，但他將普華永道的培訓(xùn)程序比作“絞肉機”，還說自己在“三個業(yè)務(wù)部門工作，離我當初申請的工作越來越遠”，從他的描述可以看出，在光鮮的許諾與殘酷的現(xiàn)實之間差距有多大。

If companies do not bridge that gulf, or explain to bright-eyed trainees why it exists, then the kind of cynicism Mr Alcock unwisely voiced will fill the hole. That cannot be good for employers or employees.

倘若公司不將這一差距彌合，或向眼明心亮的培訓(xùn)生們解釋清楚何以存在這種差距，就會被阿爾科克不明智地表達的這類譏諷鉆了空子。那對雇傭雙方都不利。