Every time politics comes up in my household – especially these days – it ends up being a very long conversation. It was no different the other day, when a colleague stopped by for a visit. Except that the discussion wasn’t about John McCain or Barack Obama or even a policy question; it was about how uncomfortable we are talking about the candidates in the office – and how much more comfortable others seem to be.

We’re both in media, both Gen Y, both cool-enough downtown girls (we hope). Yet based on the venting going on in my living room that afternoon, we also seem to have deep-seated issues with how the exciting general political climate has translated into what should be the less-dramatic workplace.

And we’re not just talking about old-school corporate institutions here. My friend works at an openly liberal entertainment media company, which might explain why some of her coworkers feel it’s alright to do some Barack Obama organizing in the office. But even at a company that’s in the business of ideology – one where you might think you know everyone’s views — it’s almost never a good idea to take the conversation from the general to the specific by, you know, doing things like sending group invites to Obama events to the entire work e-mail list.

By now, we should all be saying, Stop it. Nobody sent out Obama fliers to their office list. That would be crazy. (Everybody knows, and this New York Times story will confirm, that even political paraphernalia in your own office is bad, never mind in everyone else’s inbox.) But that’s where, apparently, we’d all be wrong. Because this is exactly the situation that got my friend going in the first place. And not necessarily because she’s not an Obama supporter. Sending what amounts to political advertising to all your colleagues – particularly if you’re at a company of more than, say, three people, and don’t know everyone’s feelings on the matter — is about as tactful as filling their in-boxes with Scripture. Put plainly: Not cool.

Now, I have to admit that when I brought this outrage up with my sister, expecting equal amounts of ire, her response surprised me. Social justice-minded 23-year-old who she is, she went in six seconds from, “That’s an, um, conservative tack for you take,” to, “Why isn’t it okay to say, ‘anyone who thinks coastal oil drilling is a good idea is an idiot’ at work?!”

Maybe she’s right to feel that, in the face of problems we have today, your comfort or mine shouldn’t be her primary concern. But here’s the trouble: When you take that fight to a coworker, you’re assuming that they agree with you, and if they don’t, you’re forcing them to pretend they do, or admit they don’t, opening the door to a potentially volatile situation.

That’s all well and good at three in the morning sitting around the old freshman dorm, but it doesn’t work in the office. When it comes right down to it, most of us are at work to achieve our own and our company’s goals, not to have values debates. And no matter how ideological your business, if the last decade of election results are any indication, for every person with your opinions, there’s at least one other person with completely opposite views. There’s probably at least one of those people on your office e-mail list, whether they’re “out” about it or not. And every time you choose to ignore that, you risk alienating that person.

Not only is that kind of friction – be it overt or covert – going to be detrimental to achieving your career goals, it’s bad behavior. Part of being human, never mind American, is respecting other people’s right to be who they are, and when it comes to something as intensely personal as one’s vote, well, what’s more fundamental than that?

None of this should be breaking news. It wasn’t so long ago that talking politics — or religion, or money, or relationships – at the office was considered a serious faux pas. But as we’ve said before (e.g. “Your salary: Don’t ask, don’t tell?”), that list of taboos is getting shorter, and obviously, for some people, it no longer includes politics. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s so much a conscious decision as a kind of (usually) benign obliviousness. And I’d like to believe that if the people doing the political proselytizing really knew how it was perceived, they might do things a little differently.

So, by all means, talk politics. Talk about what an amazing, historic election this is, what a committed electorate we suddenly have, or what strong contenders our candidates have become. Just do it with the same decorum and care you’d use with any other sensitive subject. And realize that, even when you think you’re being careful and measured in your casual chatter, someone with different opinions might not see it that way. (It’s hard, for instance, to say you think anyone who’s pro-coastal drilling is an idiot without being just a tad pejorative.)

While it might be fine to go there with close friends, or even coworkers who are also close friends, chances are you aren’t close to everyone you work with, so better to leave the controversy at home (or at the bar, or at the local Greenpeace chapter – whatever floats your boat. Or, er, sinks it. See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.)

Even more, if you see a fellow Gen Yer – or anyone for that matter — heading into dangerous territory, consider finding a kind and subtle way to tell them so. And remember, too, that when this sort of thing goes on, it allows older folks to see us as a monolith. If you’re young and vaguely hip, whatever your actual opinions are, you’re assumed to be an Obama fan. Sure, Obama has had unbelievable success using Facebook and other Gen Y-friendly strategies, but that doesn’t mean every Yer’s a Barack booster.

And even if am a fan – and hey, I might be – nobody likes being stuffed in a box like that, especially when it comes to politics, and in an election as hotly contested as this one.

(Some of you longtime Gig fans will no doubt be thinking, But Nads, this is what we do every week: Generalize about Gen Y! Okay, but that’s in the service of understanding each other and explaining ourselves, not marginalizing each other’s perspectives. And some of it’s even based on actual observation and research! But it’s nice – and important – to be reminded that, in reality, we’re dealing with individuals. Sometimes we may act like we share a brain, but we don’t. For the most part.)

Call it my conservative (lowercase “c,” guys) New England upbringing, or just my nice-guy empathy for differing viewpoints, but we’re at work to be put upon by our bosses, not other people’s politics. And let’s be honest, the world is better that way: When I got one of those Obama blasts on our own work list, I couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if someone had responded with “Go McCain” or some such. A-w-k-w-a-r-d.

So have you noticed it, too? Do you have your own tales of inappropriate office politics to tell? Or do I just need to loosen up?

Our layoffs post got such an amazing response that we need to continue that conversation, and in the meantime, it’s also fed some thinking on other parts of the Gen Y “experience,” like this story I did for the Big Idea with Donny Deutsch. Had a chance to do the show on Monday, and the big idea was winning — what it is, what it means, how to be a winner — a concept some think we Gen Yers not only have a unique perspective on, but might even be changing. (Generation Team, anyone?) Thought you’d enjoy taking a look, and as always, tell us what you think…

Quote of the week: “My managers always liked me — because they never had to see me.” Hah! Just had to share that bit of straight-faced wisdom from an otherwise wonderful Boomer manager, as I was sitting in his office when he dropped it on me. And they wonder why we’re always calling our parents; clearly, no one else will talk to us! Kidding, kidding, but thought you guys would enjoy that. I’ll refrain from further overanalysis, but needless to say, he busted up laughing when I offered to leave: “Oh, no, I mean, um, I love to chat, I’m just saying, my managers didn’t have to worry about me.” Uh-huh.

What about your bosses? Laid any hilarious words to the wise on you lately?

In case you were worried, yes, I still have a job. Seems some of you read recent reports of turmoil at Fortune and, with my conspicuous absence since then, feared the worst. Well, I heart you, too. And while I was actually on vacation and not busy sprucing up my resume, your reaction got me thinking about layoffs and their effect on us Yers.

Along with 9/11, the Columbine school shootings, Hurricane Katrina and the increasingly frightening climate change conversation, the layoffs we watched our parents and their friends go through were formative for us. No wonder, when it comes to our worldview, we’re a wary bunch; we’ve seen enough immediate and unpredictable upheaval to know that we can’t wait too long to live our lives. (Put off that safari or landmark visit too long, a Yer might tell you, and those animals and monuments may not exist when you finally make the time to see them. And by the way, the company where you worked for all those years you could have been traveling may not be there for you, either.)

For those of us who saw our elders give years — even decades — of service to major corporations, only to find themselves suddenly and unceremoniously jobless, corporate America often appears just as scary and unstable (and untrustworthy) as the world at large, if not more so. And whether that’s a fair characterization or not, it certainly doesn’t help when companies operate the way some of those in this New York Times story do — creating a culture of fear and distrust by, among other things, keeping employees completely out of the loop, to the point where a bounced e-mail from a now-former colleague’s work address is the first indication s/he’s gone.

Is it any surprise that Yers are quick to move to the next opportunity — or, to hear some recruiters tell it, be “disloyal”? Could any of us really justify staying “loyal” to a place that we’ve learned could turn us out into the street at any moment, without so much as a farewell e-mail? That sounds a lot more like stupidity than loyalty to me.

And even for those young people who — not being all that expensive anyway — manage to keep their jobs, the trauma of seeing older, experienced staffers get the proverbial boot is enough to drive you to the Peace Corps. Every time I’ve accepted a job, it’s been because I saw a great teacher in some person there, someone whom I knew I’d look forward to learning from every day, and who would help me grow in my own career. Sadly, those almost always seem to be the first people to go. And our so-called loyalty usually goes with them.

Even in my short career — which admittedly has spanned more than a couple organizations, from tiny startup to media titan — I’ve been through a half-dozen rounds of layoffs or more. And let’s just say it hasn’t exactly been an exercise in stellar management. Like when, doing double duty as a writer and the editor’s executive assistant, I had to attend a Thanksgiving party with a group of people I knew would be out of work in a week. (Yet more evidence that it pays to answer the boss’ phone, even if you find out things you’d rather not know.) By the time my boss’ boss started speechifying about how much we had to be grateful for, I was wishing Presbyterians had confession so I could admit to being the worst person on Earth. Talk about disingenuous leadership.

Then there was the time I was traveling for work and couldn’t get my editor to answer some story questions over e-mail. Assuming I’d annoyed him into silence, I practiced my apology speech all the way to his office — only to find the room dark and boxes piled outside. Not, as we say, awesome.

That isn’t to suggest we don’t understand the need for layoffs, or the legal difficulties downsizing companies may face, which can force them to behave in a less than laudable manner. But even if it isn’t an option to share information with employees via e-mail — or bring them up to speed at all — sometimes a simple “hang in there” or quick visit from a manager is all it takes to put a young person’s mind at ease. Without this sort of input or guidance, we only have the soap opera of management handling (or mishandling, as in the cases above) these situations to guide us, which isn’t much of a marketing campaign if you’re trying to retain or develop employees.

Never mind that it doesn’t do much to encourage employees to become leaders themselves. As Tammy Erickson at the Concours Institute notes on her Harvard Business Online blog, Yers aren’t necessarily eyeing the top job. “We were pretty surprised by the number of Y’s who said their boss’ job just didn’t look ‘worth it,’” she writes. Perhaps because it’s more true than ever that we want to reach our own personal best — which means having the best personal life possible, too, and maybe, you know, not having to fire all your friends — becoming CEO isn’t the holy grail it might have been.

So, all that to say, the talk of layoffs got me thinking about how some of those criticisms I so often hear leveled against us — like our “disloyalty” and lack of the “right” ambition — aren’t evidence of some sort of generational deficiency, but an almost direct result of the messages corporate America has sent us. Loyalty’s a two-way street, we’ve realized, and ambition’s only as good as the life it gets you. And if those are the lessons that we finally learn from layoffs, then I say our disloyalty and disdain for the C-suite are really a great testament to our growing common sense. Which ought to make the critics happy, since they keep telling me we need more of that, too.

Thoughts, feelings, rants? Do you guys have similar stories to share, or am I totally off on this one?

We pick up our newspapers v. reality TV debate again with part two of all the Gen Y job-hunter needs to know.

For an equally fun, but quicker, photo-filled version, see here.

SCORE SO FAR: Newspapers 2; Reality TV 1
Lesson 4: It’s all in the Networking

Nadira says:
Reality show contestants may form “alliances,” but when it comes to creating a lasting network, nothing’s better than your local paper. That’s where you’ll find your community’s real luminaries, and potentially amass the tools to connect with them (since they’d probably rather bond over a shared love of Dick Cavett’s blog than an unhealthy obsession with The Hills). But my favorite insight from papers is about the art and luck of networking. Read successful people’s stories and it’s easy to see that most weren’t plotting ascendancy from the womb. They found a passion, made some mistakes, met some people, worked hard, and worked it out. And ultimately, that’s a better way to network than the strategies employed by, say, the social-climbing Real Housewives of New York City.

Jake says:
The “art and luck” hypothesis works, but I can’t believe you threw Dick Cavett and The Hills into the same sentence. Are you writing for Ashton or Demi?! Dictionary.com calls networking a “a supportive system of sharing information and services among individuals and groups having a common interest.” Sounds like the Big Brother House to me. Contestants on these shows have to share knowledge and resources skillfully, and they must be supportive of their peers. But while these relationships dominate, competitors who base alliances on utility alone rarely make the finals; the minute it gets tense, their networks fall apart. I ain’t gonna lie: Reality TV isn’t the forum for studying long-term networks, but it does show the value of true personal connections when you’re trying to build one.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because networks should be built, not brokered under penalty of ejection from the Big Brother house.

Lesson 5: Oh, the Pressure

Jake says:
Newspapers dissect drama while reality shows exploit drama. When it comes to office drama - from interoffice conflict to taking criticism - you might want to act impulsively and incite a brawl like a houseguest on The Real World or The Ultimate Fighter. But resist the urge. You’ll be better served looking at every angle and coming up with a measured response, the way a good newspaper story does. That’s always going to trump the emotionally-charged outbursts of reality TV (assuming you want to keep your job). Where drama’s concerned, what’s good for TV is bad for business.

Nadira says:
I’m all for a measured response, but angry coworkers or critical bosses can be as tough as any ultimate fighter, and chances are a well-written story isn’t going to be much help. But what is reality TV for if not dramatic situations? Like you said, once you’ve played “20 questions designed to dissolve you” with Donald Trump or Project Runway’s Nina Garcia, a plain old evaluation from your boss probably won’t faze you. And, hi, if you want to learn how to handle yourself in the midst of unmanageable chaos, look no further than Supernanny Jo Frost, whose workplace, like so many of ours, features huge crybabies, crazy clients, and all kinds of anger management issues. So if you need is a good lesson in confident, creative conflict-resolution, turn on JoJo. No, I mean it. Seriously.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because you have to see crazy people to believe them.

Lesson 6: Who’s Cool Around the Water-Cooler?

Jake says:
In the words (and spelling) of MC Hammer, “U Can’t Touch This”. The water cooler is an inter-office retreat where the stress and pressure of the day are abandoned in favor of gossip and irreverence. Global conflicts and local crime rates have no place near the cooler — and giggling and snickering do. No wonder reality television reigns supreme. But most of all, the water cooler is about circulation. And the combined daily circulation of USA Today, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal is only a fraction of the 30 million people watch every episode of American Idol. If you want to make water cooler friends, Simon Cowell is your best bet.

Nadira says:
This is one place where newspapers simply have to bow to the juggernaut that is reality TV. Because while you may impress a superior or two with your weekend news items, once you’re dealing with people you actually know, they’d probably much rather talk about the latest American Idol or Top Chef than that hot front-page story in the paper that they were too tired to read all weekend. So while you should have a few paper gems in your back pocket, in the unlikely event your CEO drops by the water cooler huddle and doesn’t want to hear your predictions for America’s Next Top Model, I’m probably going to have to defer to Jake on this one…

WINNER: Reality TV. Because 30 million people can’t all be wrong — and even if they are, you want them to like you!

Lesson 7: No Direction, No Hope

Jake says:
(Note: Like Arnold in Terminator 2, I recognize and accept that I am going to get killed in this episode.) The beauty of reality TV is that we get to witness the struggles of young people who are searching for direction. Unlike newsworthy characters in the paper, reality TV characters are not at the top of their professional game. If they were, they wouldn’t have time to flirt with Bret Michaels or kayak around the world on The Amazing Race. (Even the (so-called) celebrities on VH1’s Celeb-reality programming are unsure of their career trajectory.) But we get to learn from and laugh at their mistakes. We learn that it’s okay to be vaguely ambitious. And we learn that it’s not okay to swim naked in a fish tank (on camera) like Isaac did in The Real World: Sydney, as that could affect your chances of landing a job in the future.

Nadira says:
Just watch the Real World Awards Bash ‘08, and it’s clear reality TV can show you which direction not to go. Case in point: your poor, hilarious, aquarium-diving Isaac, who seemed to be only half-joking when he said in his update that he was now living in a friend’s basement, stealing to eat, and grateful to MTV for ruining his life. So please, for the love of all things holy, do not look to reality TV to plan your life. Open instead the pages, be they paper or web, of your favorite newspaper and read it all. Use the real estate listings to plan your future as a homeowner. Transition from college chic to yo-pro appropriate with the style section. Oh, and consider scanning the actual news, since the kind of person you want to become would probably like to know at least as much about American politics as about Celebreality.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because Bret Michaels’ groupies may be relatable, but you should probably be aiming for “respectable.”

FINAL SCORE: Newspapers 4; Reality TV 3

And there you have it, sports fans — the exciting conclusion to The Gig’s first-ever face-off. Those defenders of the written word out there can breathe easy for the time being, as newspapers pulled it out in the end. But we wouldn’t get too comfortable. Reality TV, long maligned as a straight line to procrastination and increased stupidity for young people everywhere, almost squeaked by. And that, combined with that stat from the New Yorker about newspapers going extinct somewhere around 2043 (you laugh, I link), would have me worried, paper-people. But for now, keep reading your Posts, Tribunes, Chronicles, and Times(es). And watching The Hills, of course. Good (job) hunting.

When I heard about Whoa! My Boss is Naked: A Career Book for People Who Would Never Be Caught Dead Reading a Career Book from a friend, I wasn’t exactly rearing to read it. While we’ve been planning lots more books coverage on The Gig, there are 50 terrible career books like this for each good one, and this one happened to be written by a Stanford classmate, Jake Greene, who, while I didn’t know him personally, was widely held to be a pretty nice guy with good ideas and access to all my personal contact information through the alumni page.

So while I steeled myself for the brush-off I’d inevitably have to give him, I gave it a flip-through. And found chapter titles like, “Get Up, Get Out, and Do Something: Fold up the futon. It’s time to get your hands dirty,” and, “40-Year-Old Q&A: Lessons in BS from Hollywood’s favorite virgin.” Then there was the “Toolish Tendencies Test” in the appendix. And once I was wooed enough to actually read, the winning opening line: “This is not another ‘Corporate Tools for Corporate Tools’ handbook.”

There was something, it seemed, to this Jake Greene guy’s approach. In fact, the 28-year-old marketing consultant was a little unexpected himself. He’s married, wore a suit(!) to meet me, and would rather talk on the real phone than e-mail or text. And he hasn’t always wanted to write a book to share his wisdom. (Hah.) Whoa! grew out of his observations on the road working for a real-estate development startup, a collection of journal entries that eventually started to look like a book.

So to start us off in our ‘08 books conversation, I thought we’d take a more unorthodox approach with this one and have some fun (before getting back to the serious stuff, of course). In Whoa!, Greene argues that pop culture’s a great prep tool for twentysomethings in the job market, especially since we all for the most part grew up on it — Cosby Show, Full House, everything ever aired on MTV. And that’s even more true today, with the rise of reality TV and all its contrived challenges.

So we decided to put some of Jake’s thinking to the test. He and I spent some time watching reality TV and reading major newspapers, then settled in to argue high-school-debate-style about which wins out in the arenas that matter, from initiative to interviewing skills, and pick winners in each. Of course, being that, as writers and Yers, we love both papers and pop culture, we had a hard time picking sides, so we tried to switch it up in each category, to keep it fair and fresh — and allow us to show all our embarrassing knowledge of the highs and lows of modern media. And when we were done, we tallied the score to crown the king of the Newspapers v. Reality TV smack-down.

So what’s better a primer for the Gen Y job-seeker? Supernanny or the New York Times? Read on to find out…

And see a quick, photo-filled version here

Lesson 1: Building a Better Resume

Nadira says:
What better resume-builder is there than the New York Times? There’s the actual careers coverage, of course, but take something like the Vows section. Every Sunday, it forces dozens of couples to distill their lives into a few hundred choice words, a skill we could all use. And what is a newspaper profile but an inside look at what people remember, how they remember it, and the many ways in which it can be spun. Which, after all, is what a good resume is all about. But perhaps the best part of reading a paper is the collected quirkyness of it—a place where politicians and athletes appear alongside Portishead and the Brooklyn Flea Market, a recent Sunday Times. It’s that kind of energy that makes the best resumes, and nothing captures it quite like a good newspaper.

Jake says:
I like your material and memory argument, but the Vows section? Really? Also, if you want to see writers mingle with washed-up band members, watch The Surreal Life. Reality TV shows viewers what can happen if they don’t take their resumes seriously. Every season premiere of The Bachelor/Bachelorette is full of “customer service specialists” (waiters) and “entrepreneurs” (unemployed slackers). These upgrades are easier to spot than Janice Dickinson’s “cosmetic enhancements.” And what about how your prioritize your experience? My sister reminded me that Erik from Survivor is identified as “Ice Cream Scooper.” My guess is Erik — who’s also an an Eastern Michigan University student and athlete — listed his part-time dairy duties a bit too high on his Survivor application.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because we’d rather be worth a Vows column than end up an ice-cream scooper.

Lesson 2: A Little Initiative Goes a Long Way

Nadira says:
It’s not easy to end up on reality TV. Witness the crazy lines of people hoping to be the next American idol, top model, or Real World, um, star. Never mind the ones who do multiple shows. That takes work! But for true reality initiative, look no further than Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Just about every episode has the sisters taking on some new challenge head-on. Like the time brother Rob wouldn’t introduce them to his new girl. Solution? Steal her number from his phone and interrogate her over coffee, of course. Khloe refuses to get a boyfriend? Secretly sign her up for a dating site. Duh! Even 12-year-old Kendall gets in the act. Offered some cash for chores, she contracts the work out to the local dog-walker at sweat-shop rates. Ethically questionable, for sure, but ingenious nonetheless.

Jake says:
Every issue of every newspaper is filled with people showing initiative, whether in business, sports, entertainment, or at the community level. In fact, one would be hard pressed to find stories in the paper in which nobody showed any initiative. Read about that ambition and it just might rub off. Beyond that, it takes initiative on the part of the reporters to track down stories and sources. (Significantly more initiative, I might add, then it takes Flava Flav to read cue cards.) And it takes initiative to report the news in real-time. And to meet deadlines every day in order to produce a respectable product. Stop every once in a while to appreciate the efficiency and perseverance it takes to (in the words of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn) “Make it Work,” and hope that rubs off on you, too.

WINNER: Newspapers. Because you need to learn the right kind of initiative, not the kind that ends in labor abuses.

Lesson 3: The Art of the Interview

Jake says:
Just turn on Bravo. The “face-the-judges” portion of any Project Runway or Top Chef episode provides both effective and tragic strategies for handling tough interview questions. And the people answering aren’t seasoned industry leaders like the experts in the paper. They’re young, inexperienced, and prone to making mistakes we can learn from. The same goes for dating shows. Many writers (myself included) liken the interview process to dating — both involve anticipation, conversation, humiliation, and (if you get lucky) consummation. And that makes dating shows, with their over-the-top characters doing all the wrong things, like instructional videos for interviewing. Great example: I think Daisy from Rock of Love said “like” and “ya know?” at least 50 times during her video testimonials. Yikes.

Nadira says:
Point taken. What can compete with Daisy’s wide eyes and red lips, whatever the heck they’re saying? Still, the one place a newspaper really can help you is in an actual interview. Because I can’t tell you how many recruiters have told me that they’ve been most put off by candidates’ total lack of current events knowledge — in their industry and in general. And sure you could Google that info, but chances are that Google’d take you to a story that somewhere, sometime, came from a newspaper journalist. And no, cable news is not a viable alternative; you do not want to remind your interviewer of a vaguely interested anchor glossing over the meaningful issues and packaging the rest for maximum sensationalist effect. So read, for crying out loud.

WINNER: Reality TV. Because reading can’t make you sweat like Heidi Klum can.

Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll find out if Bret Michaels really can help you plan for the future…

Did you all see “Not-So-Personal Finance” in the New York Times this weekend? It’s a story about young people sharing their salary figures with each other — which has long been considered bad professional behavior — and the generational politics of openly discussing money and other traditionally private matters. The Times writer paints the issue, er, vividly: “As Ilana Arazie, 32, an online video producer for a media company in Manhattan, said, ‘If we can talk about how many orgasms we have with our mate, why can’t we discuss how much we make?’”

Now, for the record, you’re not likely to find me talking about how many orgasms I have with my mate anywhere ever (and certainly not in the Times), but I’ve often been told I’m conservative in this respect. And maybe that’s why I might find it strategically suspect — never mind just plain icky — to do compensation roundtables with friends. Or worse yet, to post salaries on Facebook, as the title of Times article’s web page — “Sharing Salary Figures on Facebook” — seems to suggest is happening. (The story itself doesn’t include an instance of this.) It’s one thing to share that number with very close friends or mentors, but with your whole happy-hour crew or Facebook universe? Not so much.

For those of you who aren’t yet furiously writing a comment, here’s why: If you’re a recent grad or working in an industry where early-career salaries are more or less set and/or public, it makes sense to try to get as much information as you can about what you’re worth, which often means giving specifics — such as what you’re being offered for a particular job.

But once you’ve been in a gig or in an industry for a while, salaries become an increasingly sensitive topic. Why? Because the friends you’re showing your paycheck to are often your colleagues. And if you’ve all been at your careers long enough, significant differences — in how you’re compensated, your job responsibilities, and even the level of respect you get from your superiors — are bound to emerge. Mishandle these, whether by inadvertently flaunting your own success or becoming jealous of someone else’s, and you’re in for some serious professional tension.

For instance, I have a journalism friend who is constantly coming up with cute ways to ask what I make, and judging from his/her eager expression, these inquiries aren’t made in the spirit of sharing. It’s competition, pure and simple, and while I adore this person, I’m pretty sure that if I shared the information s/he wants, we’d be the Lauren and Heidi of the friend group faster than you can say “TMI.”

Of course, I also have a colleague here at Fortune whose encouragement has been invaluable when it comes to asking for raises and whatnot. But we only talk numbers on a relatively vague, need-to-know basis. Keeping these chats hypothetical keeps us close and — in a positive sort of way — competitive, since we never quite know exactly where the other stands. (Don’t believe that the taboo still exists? Check out Fortune senior writer Annie Fisher’s latest column, “Tax rebates: A clue to co-workers’ salaries,” which is all about how to use rebate time to surreptitiously figure out what your coworkers make.)

But whatever my squeamishness, I did find the Times story’s generational explanations of this behavior amusing. As with so many things, it’s all about our childhoods. Salary.com chief compensation officer Bill Coleman cited Gen Yers’ affinity for teamwork as one reason why we might seek friends’ help to decipher salaries. And Barbara W. Keats, an associate professor of management at Arizona State University, says that our “relative lack of manners regarding salary can be traced to the self-esteem movement embraced by baby boomer parents.” As she puts it, “They’re special, and however they say things is very cute.”

It’s reductive, yes, but I don’t necessarily disagree. Many of us are still young enough that we haven’t yet had the chance to feel the backlash of revealing too much detail about our personal and professional lives. And it remains to be seen if there really will be one, or if corporate etiquette will adjust to us, the way that other corporate structures have. But regardless, it just seems to me that, in the average office, showing your economic hand can go either way — and the benefits don’t outweigh the consequences of oversharing, no matter how old you are.

But maybe I’m already too old to understand the rationale of these young movers and shakers. What about you?

In this, the week of all things Green, I’d be remiss if — amidst the talk of CFL bulbs, organic farmers, and the like — I didn’t bring up that other green issue: Gen Yers. (Don’t act so surprised…)

At Fortune’s Brainstorm Green conference in Pasadena earlier this week, there was much high-level discussion amongst high-level executives, researchers, and activists of the problems one might expect — for instance, panels such as “Nuclear Power: A Debate” and “The $1 Trillion Carbon Market.” But what struck me was the way that Gen Yers crept into these green leaders’ conversations.

In “Wall Street and Climate Change,” Lehman Brothers managing director Theodore Roosevelt IV called green one of his best recruiting tools, saying that when Lehman goes to business schools, the younger generation asks what the company’s doing about environmental issues. And in “The Green Consumer: Myth or Reality,” Marc Mathieu, Coca-Cola’s SVP of global brand marketing and creative excellence (i.e. marketing guru), pointed out from the audience that — whatever the back and forth here about how to get consumers who say they’d rather buy green to actually do it — the next generation was going to take ownership of this movement. They’re not going to change when they get older, he said, citing his own teenagers, who are all members of Greenpeace or organizations like it.

To some extent, this is starting to emerge in the research, like this 2007 study, which found that 50% of Gen Y respondents said environmental messaging influenced their shopping behavior. (For the record, I’d like to think that older people would say the same, but the study didn’t go there.) It called to mind a recent conversation with a researcher in this field, who said that, as far as he could tell, the only thing preventing young people from going completely green was their obvious lack of that other kind of green — cash. As Yers’ incomes grew, he thought, we’d begin to see the impact of their green leanings.

Of course, I’m curious to hear what you think. Would you stay at a company that promised it was getting greener, or leave one that wouldn’t? And once you have the money to do it, would you spend on green? Or do you, as Green Consumer panelist Joel Makower of Greener World Media, put it, think this is “just marketing.” (Which, to clarify, is an insult.) I got into a heated “debate” a while back with my 23-year-old sister — otherwise known as my Gen Y guinea pig — around this very question of the mainstreaming of green. While she was glad to hear more people express an interest in the environment, she said she couldn’t help feeling like green was rapidly gaining fad status. And since, to quote Heidi Klum, “In fashion, one day you’re in and the next you’re out,” she felt it might only be a matter of time before the hype died down and we were left just about where we started.

She’s still hoping to see us prove her wrong, but I wonder how many of you out there agree with her. And how many are cautiously more optimistic? And how many more are in the group that Makower brilliantly sketched out for us, people who find no irony in getting in their poorly tuned Escalades with under-inflated tires and turning on their cold engines to drive three miles to buy their favorite recycled toilet paper. He laughs — and hey, it’s funny, because we all know (or are) those people — but one does worry that this last camp of convenience is the one that most of us fall into, when it’s all said and done. (Not unlike the young women in this piece, for whom green is, apparently, a true fashion statement.)

So is it true, guys? Are we a bunch of fair-weather environmentalistas? Or are we, as I’d like to think, really going to make a change here, not just through our own actions, but by our ability to force the companies trying to hire and market to us to get with the green program?

*****

And in other news, if you haven’t already, check out our “Face of the future” gallery, part of this year’s Fortune 500 coverage. It was a labor of love for photographer Mackenzie Stroh and me, amassing images and interviews from more than 50 young people at 11 Fortune 500 companies to get a little insight into what life is really like for them. If you don’t mind paper, the magazine version is worth a look, too, with beautiful photographs and a more in-depth look at 29 of these hard-working — and I hope, high-rising — Yers. And when you’re done, do me a big favor and have an awesome weekend…

After a Gen Y talk recently, an audience member shared an interesting story that went something like this: He — an Xer — was running late for a meeting, and he called down to tell the other employees, all younger, to start without him. Only nobody answered. So, thinking the line was tied up, he ran down to the room, only to find the seven Yers looking at each other, evidently unsure of what to do in the presence of a ringing phone.

Now there are a lot of reasons for this behavior, not the least of which might be stupidity, but I think it may have more to do with something that’s been obsessing me lately: confidence. For all the talk of our narcissism and unrealistic expectations, we also seem to lack a certain go-it-alone bravado that’s characterized many great leaders — bravado that just can’t be cultivated when you have a whole universe of parents, coaches, nannies, teammates and Facebook friends ready to rescue you at a moment’s notice. Like any toddler whose mother runs to him every time he falls, we’ve just learned to cry for help (really loudly), not pick ourselves up.

Gig reader Keith V., a 37-year-old father of four and law student who wrote in about his recent observations of the Yers in his classes, has noticed this, too. “You guys are more skilled and know more than your parents now,” he says. “The only thing you [lack] is confidence. For example, last night in my litigation course, my professor (a baby boomer)…confessed that he didn’t know what a motion in limine was until five years out of law school. A girl in my class (probably about 25) had already done one as an advocate, but had to be coaxed to offer this.” And asked the same evening if they’d ever seen an oral argument, something they’d all witnessed in their legal writing class, nary a peep was heard. Until Keith raised his hand to say they had — after which, of course, everyone chimed in to agree.

One might think that, for students who’ve decided to invest tens of thousands of dollars in law school, it might be worth it to, say, speak up in class and engage in the education they’ve probably paid through the nose for. But as many recent grads could tell you, law school and other graduate work, while obviously valuable, has also for some Yers become just another way of holding the real world — and the purportedly lonely and cutthroat corporate America — at bay. (As a close friend put it to my little sister recently, “You could always just get a PhD to buy some time till you’re 30.” And she’s not wrong; there are definitely people who think this way.)

What is that about, if not confidence? At least that’s what the folks at Hayden-Wilder, a firm that counsels recently minted college grads and rising seniors through the entry-level job search, told me when I spoke to them last year about the emerging Gen Y persona. “These young people don’t understand that they need to distinguish themselves,” says D.A. Hayden. “It’s almost wrong to reach out and say, ‘I’m a leader,’ They’re trained to work in teams — in school, in extracurriculars — they travel in groups of people, they don’t date singly. Everything is in this touchy-feely team environment. That’s all fine and merry when you’re a very junior candidate, but when you start moving up through the ranks, you have to put a stake in the ground.”

But does this explain why those junior staffers didn’t pick up that ringing phone? Hayden thinks so: “This manifests in all sorts of ways, from not having focus to having hyper focus; to being in La-La Land about what they can and can’t do; to what they make in terms of money — some just want to make money, while others don’t care at all. All of that translates into confidence.” So while different Yers might exhibit seemingly opposite behaviors — for instance, one might be too eager while another may seem disinterested — both could be coming from the same feeling of fear and insecurity bred by never having had to be this self-sufficient or self-motivated before. “Because this generation has been so coddled,” says Michael Wilder, pointing to Yers’ ever-present boomer parents, “when they do have to make a decision on their own, they’re looking for affirmation. They have no basic experience to allow them to be confident about the decisions they’re making.”

Which means, it isn’t so much that the Yers can’t answer the phone, it’s that they’ve never had to. And if one of them had decided to take that insane risk and break away from his shrugging cohort, he may well have been labeling himself a rebel, show-off, know-it-all, or any number of other schoolyard slurs for life. In short, he would not have been a team-player. And what worse fate is there than that for this generation of extracurricular-activity-addicts? It’s a funny charge to level, I know, considering the aforementioned assessment of Yers as inherently egomaniacal teacher’s pets. But as anyone who went to elementary school can attest, for both the teacher’s pet and the loudmouth Yer, all that flailing around is often just a desperate attempt to distract from the qualities they don’t possess, be it grade-school social standing or grown-up work experience.

And we see these evasive tactics everywhere: Friends hiding behind “finding themselves,” going from job to job, or even going back to school for no reason other than that they’re afraid they won’t really be able to cut it in the working world. And that’s the trouble. Because how are we ever supposed to believe we can do something if we never actually do it on our own? (Or, to be a complete dork and quote Dr. Wayne, of Batman Begins fame, “Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.”)

It’s scary, but as Michael Wilder puts it, you have to “teach yourself to think like an individual.” Not like a “we,” or like your parents, your friends, your colleagues, or even your company. Just a you. It’s a start. And from there, your employer can begin to see you as an individual, too, instead of as a representative of an entire generation of people s/he doesn’t like much. Which then leads to more opportunities for you, the individual — opportunities that help you to … build your confidence!

Who knows? Before too long, you may even pick up the phone.

Do Gen Yers just need a hug? Or are they the egomaniacs they’ve been made out to be? Tell us what you think…

As promised, here’s some practical advice to follow last week’s musings on finding romance at the office. Watching the Oscars Sunday, I got another little impromptu reminder of the relationship between work and love: In his acceptance speech, 98-year-old production design legend Robert Boyle remembered “Hitch” (as in, Alfred Hitchcock) for giving him his first big film and, yes, introducing him to his wife and lifelong companion. It’s just one more example of how romantic work can be, something that Stephanie Losee and Helaine Olen, the authors of Office Mate: The Employee Handbook for Finding — and Managing — Romance on the Job, know a little about.

The book opens with a note from each woman on how she found her perfect mate at the office. But don’t get the wrong idea: These aren’t your average chickliteers. Both are, as the book’s site jokingly puts it, “otherwise dignified journalists” who felt passionately that office romances were getting a bad rap when they might actually be the best way to find love. So the two decided to apply their journalistic verve to the topic and share the results in this witty guide to everything from “How to Indicate Interest — Without Indicating Yourself Right Out of a Job” to “When He’s Out of Your Life But Not Out of the Office Next Door.”

It’s help many of us can use. Research cited in the book indicates that half of all office workers have dated an office mate. But then, you probably could have guessed that. As Olen says, “This has been going on since men and women have worked together, since they were sowing crops in the field.” And just because work has gone high-rise and hi-tech, doesn’t mean much has changed in the romantic arena: “The physical community of yore didn’t relocate to the Internet, it relocated to the workplace,” says Losee. “That’s so much more heartening than the possibility that we’re all just sitting in our rooms, plugged in, but completely disconnected from each other.”

So if you’re thinking of making some romantic work history of your own, a few words of encouragement and strategery from our Office Mate experts…

1. Take your time.

Taking it slow is important in any relationship, but it’s crucial when considering a coworker who as could easily be your wonderful future spouse as your insane future ex. And this goes triple for we Yers, who, to put it gently, are perhaps most likely to fall prey to that disaster-waiting-to-happen otherwise known as the happy-hour hookup. (Seriously. Remember “How much is too much at happy hour?”)

“If you jump into an office relationship and turn it into a hookup, you’re not taking advantage of the one thing that meeting someone at the office offers you — the advantage of time,” says Losee. “That’s silly, and it’s just going to lead to drama.” Instead of letting Cupid catch you unawares (or, um, un-sober) at the local watering hole, take the opportunity to get to know your potential office mate as well as possible before pursuing a relationship.

2. Get out of the office.

“Just because it’s an office romance doesn’t mean it’s conducted in the office,” says Olen, who cautions against mooning over your honey in his or her cubicle, or otherwise making yourself insufferable and/or an obvious target for downsizing. This extends to technology, too: Your office romance does not count as office work, so don’t use company tools to carry it out. Because you could find yourself in any number of unpleasant situations, like one Office Mate source, who found herself facing a less-than-sympathetic boss armed with printouts of her instant messenger pillow talk. So try to avoid that.

But doom and gloom aside, knowing your office mate outside of work is ultimately good for the relationship. “You don’t want to be two soldiers in a foxhole, thrown together because you work together,” says Olen. “You want to make sure you have more to talk about than work. And if you don’t, then you should take a strong look at your relationship, because you don’t want to change jobs and realize that you need to change boyfriends.”

3. It’s all about the rules.

The biggest potential pitfall in an office romance is, of course, an office breakup. Any relationship split can be messy, but things can get especially awkward when coworkers part ways. Handle it wrong, and not only can a bad breakup ruin your reputation at work, it can end your job altogether. So our experts say, do yourself a favor and lay down some ground rules at the very start. “It’s much easier to do when you’re first dating, when you’re in love and it’s all very theoretical, than when you’re at each others’ throats,” says Olen.

And even if your partner doesn’t respect the parameters when things go awry, the key is to remain professional and above it all — even if he or she is determined to bring the drama to work and risk taking you both off a professional cliff. But chances are, Olen says, it won’t come to that: “The office romance is the last bastion of old-fashioned courting. Because you were friends, you can remain friends. And you have a different history, because you weren’t always a couple.”

4. Think normal.

Many office romantics suffer from serious anxiety. Can you tell? And if so, whom? And how much? “The first impulse when you start dating someone at the office is to drop out of the office gang,” says Losee, “because that’s the best way you can think of not to divulge anything. But you’re just alienating yourself from your network.” It’s possible, she says, to behave with dignity and intelligence, still be part of the group, and be respected for it. “Besides, they don’t want to know all the details!”

And speaking of details, avoid PDAs. Married couples don’t neck at company dinners, and neither should you. But you shouldn’t stay in hiding forever, either. “Why does etiquette exist?” Losee asks. “To make people feel comfortable. Early on, discretion makes people comfortable. And as a relationship progresses, and everyone’s aware, openness makes them comfortable.”

5. Don’t worry; no one really minds.

Somewhere, somehow, many of us got the notion that office romances were right up there with embezzlement and miniskirts on the list of corporate crimes. Not so, say the Office Mate experts. “Contrary to myth,” says Olen, “most people don’t disapprove. Well over two-thirds are happy for you or don’t care.” It’s a good idea, if you’re considering an office romance, to check if your company has an official policy on dating at work, but the truth is that many companies don’t, and those that do tend to focus on dating subordinates and other potential harassment issues.

That doesn’t mean you should keep your boss out of the loop — after all, you don’t want him or her finding out about your love affair third-hand — but you should go in as a courtesy, not cowering in fear. And believe it or not, many HR professionals are actually supportive of office romances, since nothing builds company loyalty like being in love with a coworker. There’s even evidence that after falling in love, your productivity can increase 20 percent. “It stands to reason,” explains Losee, “you’ve got that buzz on, you’re excited to come to work, you want to impress your honey. You’re committed, and you’re going to produce.”

*****

And there you have it. As it says on my wall, “Work is love made visible.” And despite all the fun that’s been made of my Kahlil Gibran optimism, I’ve found it to be true in more ways than one: I, too, have an office mate, from a previous gig (in the spirit of full, if delayed, disclosure). So what about you? I bet you guys have some office romance opinions to share. Can they work? Are they trouble? Or are we too young to even worry about it, seeing as how many of us still have to find success at work, never mind love? Tell us your thoughts, and your own office mate stories, be they fairy tales or horror stories…