This weekend, the Huffington Post posted a blog entitled “Why Generation Y Yuppies are Unhappy.” It’s a pretty ridiculous title for a blog, but the article is well-written, thought-provoking and spot-on. The blog discusses how millennials – the generation born between the late 1970s and the mid-1990s which is also called Generation Y – are generally discontented with life. The author coined a new term for a certain segment of the millennial group: Gen Y Protagonists and Special Yuppies, or GYPSYs. A GYPSY is a unique brand of yuppie, one who thinks they are the main character of a very special story.

To summarize a very lengthy piece, millennials are generally unhappy because their expectations don’t live up to their reality. Specifically, GYPSYs are plagued by three factors that greatly influence their decisions, and ultimately, their moods: 1. GYPSYs are wildly ambitious. 2. GYPSYs are delusional. 3. GYPSYs are taunted.

I think a large part of the reason that it’s been trendy to “hate” on the good ol' American farmer and rancher is because millennials – who represent 30 percent of the U.S. population – are generally wildly ambitious, delusional and taunted.

Last week, I wrote an article about how we as Americans are generally ungrateful. To me, ungrateful and unhappy go hand in hand. As I wrote, millennials have generally been raised by parents who were raised by the “greatest generation” ever.

My grandparents are members of this generation. They came of age during the Great Depression and World War II.

They’re “obsessed with economic security” and raising their kids (my parents) to build practical, stable careers. But more than anything, they are a grateful generation, one that grew up knowing what it was to sacrifice, to save.

They invested time in things like curing meats and canning vegetables. They raised my parents to wear hand-me-downs. They cut coupons and ate breakfast for dinner when money was tight.

My parents were taught to look for grass that was greener than their parents' grass. They were taught that if they put in the hard work and effort, they could have a long, fruitful and successful career.

For most Americans, because of the unprecedented periods of economic prosperity enjoyed in the '70s, '80s and '90s, my parents (and those like them) did even better than they expected to. This left them feeling gratified and optimistic – a feeling that they passed on to us Generation Y folks.

Our parents, through no fault of their own, raised millennials with an unabashed sense of possibility and optimism. They taught their kids that they’re special and helped them to feel tremendously hopeful about their careers and future lives.

Because of this (admittedly oversimplified psychoanalysis) it’s not hard to understand why GYPSYs are wildly ambitious (factor one). This isn’t necessarily a bad thing – except when coupled with factor two: GYPSYs are delusional.

This is where the whole expectation-reality ratio comes into play. While the Huffington Post article discussed how this delusion is often disastrous when GYPSYs enter the job market (“What do you mean I’m entry level?”), but I want to focus on what this mentality means for agriculture and the issues we’re dealing with.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve most likely seen Chipotle’s latest smear campaign against the animal agriculture community that went live on Thursday. Two years after Chipotle Mexican Grill introduced, to widespread acclaim, an animated commercial (“Back to the Start”) with a pointed message about sustainable farming, the company is back with another animated spot on the subject of food production.

The new commercial, called “The Scarecrow,” has already amassed more than four million views on YouTube since it was uploaded last week. The commercial takes swipes at giant companies that “treat food like another product to process and contrasts that with food made in sustainable ways that are fresh and wholesome.”

Ignoring the glaring, oftentimes offensive and downright hypocritical nature of the campaign (Chipotle, I wonder how your 1,500 restaurants don’t make you “big food” – whatever that means, but that’s just me), the commercial is designed specifically to reach millennials.

Why?

Because Gen Y-ers think they’re special, think they deserve the best of everything. If a company can make their product seem somehow superior, even dishonestly so, then that’s apparently what they need to do to survive in a marketplace driven by delusional millennials.

Which brings us to our third and final factor: GYPSYs are taunted. Since the advent of social media tools like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, blogs, etc. etc. etc., you can’t escape information.

The minute that Chipotle commercial went live, my Facebook and Twitter feeds went wild with quotes ranging from “check out this awesome Chipotle ad," to “long live the burrito,” to “Chipotle sucks, why are they picking on agriculture.”

It was instant – and all Chipotle had to do was push out the advertisement. The rest was done by, who else? Millennials. On social media. Sharing information.

The ever-present social commentary also greatly influences how the members of Generation Y view the world.

Read something on the Internet? Could be true. Read five of your close friends' Facebook statuses? Must be true.

Personal validation of viewpoints comes instantaneously using social media. Which is what disingenuous companies and downright dishonest marketing moguls count on: They count on the fact that millennials likely won’t check the facts – all they’ll need is Susie Q. Public sharing the video on her Facebook. Instant validation.

It’s a tactic that’s well known to animal rights activists as well. They know that Gen Y-ers are incredibly susceptible to trends for this very reason: They instantly know what everyone else is doing, and they want to be a part of it.

Fulfilling my “classic” Gen Y tendency to have everyone know exactly what I’m doing, I put up a g-chat (google chat) status last week after the Chipotle commercial hit the wires. It was something offhand like “Well there goes my week, thanks Chipotle!”

Within seconds, several of my friends wanted to know what happened. I quickly fired off the link to the video.

Upon watching, several responded, “I don’t get it – isn’t this good for agriculture?” “Aren’t they just going after the farmers that don’t do it right? Those factory farmers?”

To which I asked: Well, what makes a “factory farmer?” Is it a farmer that has 100, 200 or 1,000 animals? Can an organic farmer be a “factory farmer?” Are the small “non-factory” farmers the only ones that have to respect their animals and treat them well? And how do we know they’re all doing it right? (Just a thought for an added point …)

Well, my friends were uncharacteristically quiet after that one. Minds were blown that day, let me tell you. The truly shocking thing is how quickly my friends – and millions upon millions of Americans – were so quick to buy what that ad was selling lock, stock and barrel. No questions asked.

Meanwhile, all my ag friends were taking to social media to express their disgust with the advertisement – calling out Chipotle on blogs, Facebook and Twitter. While I certainly feel better reading all of the fabulous anti-Chipotle blogs, I have to say that we likely played right to what the marketing professionals behind the campaign counted on: Those trusty millennials are going to make this commercial all about them, take to social media and create even more buzz.

Controversies sell news, my friends – and Chipotle knows just that.

They don’t care if they offend you; they don’t care if their advertisements are factually inaccurate or downright dishonest (just ask their earnings report that states they source conventionally produced products if there are shortages of organic), and they especially don’t care if they mislead the public.

All they care about is their bottom line, and that ad gave them a nice cushion of millennials desperate to buy their “superior” product so they can feel special, fulfilled and happy.

Maybe I’m being over-harsh and too pessimistic. But my brother posted the Chipotle ad to his Facebook page – even knowing what his sister does for a living. Why? Because 30 of his friends did, and he didn’t want to get left behind.

So to Chipotle: Mission accomplished. I hope throwing millions of hardworking farmers under the bus was worth it. Talk about padding your pockets – how very un-”big food” of you.

To Chipotle’s suppliers, I hope you stand up and express your displeasure and downright disgust over this advertisement. I don’t care if you’re organic, non-organic, grass-fed, natural or even a “factory farmer” (whatever that is supposed to be).

We in agriculture need to stand together once and for all; united we stand, divided we fall. Tell Chipotle that you don’t appreciate how they characterized America’s hardworking farm and ranch families.

Tell them that it’s illegal to inject chickens with growth-promoting hormones, so no chicken farmer does it. Tell them that you don’t raise an animal called “beef-ish” and that your cows have never been kept in a dark box.

Better yet, tell them you don’t want to supply to a company that behaves in such a deceitful way. And Chipotle must not know that farmers, ranchers and the millions of individuals who work in agricultural-related fields also eat out at restaurants.

Maybe they don’t care that it’s highly unlikely any of them will now eat at one of Chipotle’s 1,500 restaurants (no matter how good that barbacoa beef is).

To all my ag friends: We have to find a way to reach outside our bubble. We’ve got a long way to go, but I’m optimistic (naturally, right?).

To all you millennials, you Gen Y-ers out there, do your research. Check your facts before you blatantly re-post and endorse what your BFF shares on Facebook.

Be grateful because food doesn’t just appear on your plate. Many people worked hard to make sure you have the abundance of choices at the grocery store that you demand.

And, contrary to what Chipotle thinks, all the farmers and ranchers I know produce good-quality food, and they do so without misleading people.

Now that’s what I call food with integrity. PD

Note: The author is, herself, a millennial but doesn’t consider herself a GYPSY. After all, she’s too “special” to be lumped in with anyone else – just ask her parents!

Emily Metz Meredith
Communications Director
Animal Agriculture Alliance