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Grossly underpaid, overworked and undervalued young professionals are becoming more self-aware of their value to the world at large and do not hesitate to move.

IT is said that a hungry man is an angry man. This is true for people from all walks of life, including young professionals struggling to survive in concrete jungles where dreams are made of.

They hunger for better money, work-life balance, career satisfaction and social advancement. And they are getting angry.

“Professionals” refer loosely to those working in a practice involving technical knowledge and skill of an intellectual nature, regulated by statutory organisations, and offer important and high-risk services.

Like doctors, who are regulated under the Malaysia Medical Council and perform life-threatening surgeries. Or like architects, who are regulated by the Board of Architects and design skyscrapers. The other usual suspects include accountants, engineers and lawyers.

Grossly underpaid, overworked and undervalued – such are the common grievances ventilated by young professionals in Malaysia.

In recent years, there had been a steady exodus of professionals from their respective practices.

According to a recent survey by Bank Negara, people working in banking and financial institutions earn more than other professionals. Greed is good. Eventually, that is where many young professionals flock to.

What deepens their disillusionment even more is that their seniors show little empathy to their plight. Time and time again, the same old excuses are used to justify the status quo. These excuses may have a ring of truth in the past, but not any more.

Top of the checklist is the classic “because that’s how things always are”, commonly used in defence of practices indefensible on principle (such as gender discrimination and corruption).

According to the seniors, being stuck in the photocopy room or shouted at for an innocent typo comes as naturally as the sun rises in the east at the dawn of every young professional’s career.

But times are changing, and so are people. As national borders slowly crumble, traffic on the information superhighway increasing and, above all, economic markets constantly rising, falling and shifting, nothing in this world stays at a standstill.

The labour market for professionals is no exception. It can no longer withstand the forces of the free market. Young professionals are becoming more self-aware of their value to the world at large. Poor salary and working conditions? No worries, there are plenty of other career opportunities elsewhere.

Empowerment of young professionals by the free market similarly dilutes the “you need us more than we need you” excuse.

Traditionally, professional practices are jealously guarded communities. The seniors act like god-like gatekeepers to a secret art that can only be passed to worthy apprentices i.e. those who denounce all material desires in return for nothing more than the attainment of knowledge.

Think of the bride at the temple of Master Pai Mei in Kill Bill (Vol. 2) enduring physical and mental torture while learning the secret art of causing a human heart to explode with five fingers.

But that’s all in the past. The art is no longer a secret known to a few. Unlike before, there are more and more temples being built, many of which do not subscribe to outmoded beliefs based on blind loyalty and sacrifice.

The older temples are rapidly losing their leverage and appeal. They precariously stand on crumbling pillars of sand.

One thing must be clear. Young professionals should not demand minimum wages. No, it’s capitalism that ought to be embraced.

This neatly leads to the “you’re all equal” excuse. Why bother giving better salary and treatment to young professionals when there are so many others in the market of equal skill and ability?

The flaw in this logic is the assumption that everyone is equal. There are the good, the bad and the ugly. The problem is that the seniors either cannot tell them apart, or even if they can, they care little for such distinctions.

Thus, the best young professionals either leave for other industries, or to other countries, like Singapore and Hong Kong.

A story told to me as a student many years ago captures the typical Malaysian mindset perfectly. You show your report card to your mother. She says: “Only 4As? But Mrs X’s son got 5As!”

You do better in the next exam. She says: “6As? Fine, got improvement, but Mrs Y’s son got 7As!”

You give it all for the next exam and knowing full well your classmates’ results, you confidently say: “I’m the only one who got 7As! Now you can brag about me to all your friends!”

With a shake of her head, she says: “Aiya, I know you did well, but it’s not nice to compare and show off, okay?”

The message here is that bosses are excellent in drawing comparisons when they wish to be critical of an employee who has performed poorly. However, they mysteriously lose this ability when required to evaluate an employee who has actually performed well.

Why do young professionals leave Malaysia? Yes, it is partly because foreign shores offer greater treasures and brighter horizons. However, it’s also because Malaysian shores are barren and rocky, offering little in the way of white sands, coconut trees and deck-chairs.

What Malaysia lacks is a multi-tier labour market which rewards young professionals based on merit. Here, they feel unwanted. Here, they do not feel the love.

Eventually, market forces will prevail. Let this be a timely warning to the professional overlords, and a clarion call to the professional underlings.

To the overlords, take heed that slowly but surely, all the good young professionals will sail away to leave behind nothing but dead drift wood. Change now, before the Jerusalem bells start ringing and Roman Cavalry choirs start singing.

To the underlings, remember that there is salvation to your hunger and anger. The sea will not run out of horizons. The market will not out run of demand for professionals. If the future is bleak in your profession, leave it behind and don’t look back. Or stay and join the rest of the young revolutionaries in wait.

Ultimately, what matters is not what one does for a living, but how one makes the best out of life.

So, dear comrades, always remember this: Long live life.

> The writer is a young lawyer. Putik Lada, or pepper buds in Malay, captures the spirit and intention of this column – a platform for young lawyers to articulate their views and aspirations about the law, justice and a civil society. For more information about the young lawyers, visit www.malaysianbar.org.my.