Gen Z workers want mission-driven jobs. A big paycheck would be nicer

First, though, he wants to get paid.

A son of immigrants and the first in his family to attend college, the 25-year-old Mr. Nitzani says he owes more than $100,000 in student-loan debt and lives in New York City amid soaring inflation. He accepted an offer from a major law firm and says he’ll donate what he can to Jewish soup kitchens and other charities. A lower-paying, public service job isn’t an option right now.

“The most important thing when I was choosing a firm, frankly, was that they’re at the top of the pay scale," he says.

For many 20-something workers and new grads, a sense of mission is butting up against the need to make money. Though they came of age under Presidents Obama and Trump and formed worldviews during times of powerful social movements, some are shifting their priorities or making compromises they might have criticized before entering the workforce.

A sharper focus on money shows up in Deloitte Global’s annual survey of Gen Zers, which the firm defines as people born starting in 1995. (Some others, like the Pew Research Center, say the generation starts in 1997.) Climate change was the top concern, ahead of financial challenges, when Deloitte polled more than 8,000 Gen Zers early last year. This year, however, the cost of living vaulted ahead of the environment as the No. 1 worry in a survey of nearly 15,000 Gen Zers.

Meanwhile, 37% of Gen Zers in the latest poll said they have “rejected a job and/or assignment based on their personal ethics." A year ago, nearly half said ethics determine the kind of work they’re willing to do, and for whom.

“It’s not always a straightforward answer, as to where you work and when and how you decide to take a stand," says Deloitte Global Deputy CEO Michele Parmelee, noting a growing share of Gen Zers have jobs and financial responsibilities. “With some experience, I think people understand that these choices are complex."

People in every generation hold ideals that eventually collide with reality. The terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, disrupted the early careers of many in Gen X, the post-boomer generation born between 1965 and 1980. The financial crisis and recession of the late aughts sobered a lot of the millennials who followed Gen Xers into the workforce.

Now, the pandemic and its fallout are testing Gen Zers. They approach issues like gun control, foreign policy and racism as people who went through school post-Columbine, have little or no memory of 9/11 and were children when Trayvon Martin’s death helped catalyze the Black Lives Matter movement.

They’re entering adulthood as the planet hits the hottest temperatures in recorded history and could soon face some of the most restrictive abortion laws in a half-century.

They were raised in a time of questioning such widely accepted norms as pronouns, standing for the national anthem and the wholesomeness of Dr. Seuss.

They’ve told pollsters for years that all of this—maybe not Dr. Seuss specifically, but social and political issues generally—will be important when they enter the labor force, saying they want to work for companies that share their values.

In a recent poll of roughly 400 college seniors commissioned by ResumeBuilder.com, however, 54% said they’d be willing to work for a company they “morally disagree with" for a six-figure starting salary. (Such hefty offers are increasingly common in today’s labor market.)

Monica Tuñez, 25, accepted a meager pay package when she joined an education nonprofit after college a few years ago.

“I’ve always thought I would do something that contributes very tangibly to making the world a better place," she says. “I grew up in a low-income family. People took time to try and get me to a better place in life, so I always felt this need to give back."

Working with public-school children in New York paid so little, however, that she took on an ironic side hustle to make ends meet: tutoring rich kids.

She left those jobs last year and now makes a comfortable living as a policy specialist for a large company in Austin, Texas. Earning more money at a single job helps her save, possibly for law school, and frees her to volunteer outside of work.

Yet her newfound stability unnerves her.

“There are so many people in other kinds of jobs that don’t feel this kind of cushiness and privilege, and I feel guilty," Ms. Tuñez says. “I’m really grappling with this."

Sami Hossain says he’d work for a nonprofit if money weren’t a consideration. Instead the 21-year-old software engineer launched his career at a large tech company in New York, a decision that arguably gives him the means to make a greater impact. He says he needs a solid paycheck to help his mother buy a house.

Gen Zers are aware that being a professional do-gooder often requires a degree of privilege—for example, parents who can afford to pay for college and keep an adult child on the family phone plan or health-insurance policy.

“If you come across someone who goes full time at a not-for-profit, you can typically guess their background," Mr. Hossain says.

Conversations about privilege and public service happen frequently among members of Law Students for Climate Accountability, says co-founder Alisa White. The group has chapters at dozens of law schools and asks members who can swing it financially to sign a pledge refusing to work for law firms that represent clients in the fossil-fuel industry.

Ms. White, 26, graduates next year and says she is committed to the pledge, even if it means earning less than her potential. She says she’s prepared for a modest income by paying off her undergraduate debt (though she’ll owe about $90,000 from law school) and being “very frugal."

More hard choices lie ahead.

“I would love to figure out having kids or a house at some point, and I’m like, ‘Oh, no,’" she says. “It weighs on my mind."