Picture this: A millennial couple head out on a sunny weekend for a drive in their cute, new hybrid. Their first big purchase is, for them, only the beginning of their journey, the first in an envisioned string of accomplishments. Never letting age hinder their progress, they've been networking in the office and online, simultaneously learning the ropes of the business and leading its digital charge. Their next stop: using connections to start their own company. After a few years of enjoying the spoils of success, spending freely, seeing the world, they'll consider taking the leap into real grown-up life. Maybe they'll start a family, maybe not. The path ahead is clear, the options limitless.

But out on the road the skies begin to darken. The wind is whipping, debris flying. The road suddenly is broken, full of potholes. The happy pair, terrified, unprepared, feel compelled to pull over.

This is the situation now facing millions of millennials, the generation born between 1980 and 2000. These kids have grown up in a consumer paradise of endless expansion. Pampered and groomed for a bigger, brighter future by parents who rarely say "no" and, when they do, rarely mean it, they've never doubted that each year will bring more than the one before it: sharper images, faster connections, more memory, larger screens, tinier screens, new ways to communicate globally, cheaper ways to get there. Millennials have never doubted the promise of the future nor their right to it.
 
Yet suddenly they're finding that hyperconnectivity means 24/7 exposure to global economic apocalypse. News reporters and pundits draw parallels with events that happened way back in black and white (the Great Depression) or, more recently, in washed-out color (the oil shocks and stagflation of the 1970s). Most millennials are way too young for the recession of the early 1990s to mean anything to them, and the dot-com crash of the early 2000s was nothing compared with this.
 
Only one year ago, we were heaping praise upon these plugged-in millennials for their rabid self-confidence, their relaxed, assured expectations of success. We were a little thrown off by their demand for a more laid-back, good-time workplace (flip-flops and Facebook? In the office? Really?). Yet we were envious of their seeming ability to have everything, to prioritize life ("I really can't make that meeting, I've got yoga at 3") over work-or, at least, to blend the two into an entirely new ethic. Their way was the way forward.
 
So what happens now that Easy Street is suddenly jammed with roadblocks? Even many older folks who recall how earlier economic downturns eventually circled back to prosperous times are finding the Great Financial Crisis of 2008 to be bigger and more complex. How will millennials respond to the huge government bailouts, to their future taxes being proffered for debts created by a generation of people they're meant to be emulating?

Most likely, they're also realizing this is just a taste of what's to come. Over the next decade, as millenials become the core workforce, growing numbers of baby boomers will enter their 70s and Gen-Xers will begin to entertain hopes of retiring. This sets the stage for a much larger population of older people in need of financial and healthcare support.


 
How will these kids respond to the road ahead, to the prospect of their promised pot of gold turning into a pot of lead? In the past, a generation of young people might have left their troubles behind to seek their fortunes in the big city or unexplored frontier, but for millennials there's no escaping the burdens of bailout debts and aging generations.
 
Will they feel duped and walk away with their heads hanging? Not likely. Cling to any mediocre job that comes their way, grateful for the steady paycheck? Doubtful. The more likely scenario is they'll rise to the challenge. Millennials constantly push the envelope. They don't take no for an answer. And for all of their apparent self-centeredness, they have an earnest streak. They want to make the world a better place and they're more than happy to announce how they'll do it.

Nothing proves this more than the role young Americans played in getting Barack Obama into the White House. Preliminary estimates show the November 2008 presidential election saw an increase of 2.2 million youth voters over 2004, which itself saw a major increase from 2000, the first year millennials were eligible to go to the polls.

But it's not just about the vote. These kids were actively engaged in dialog and took part in the campaign process in record numbers. Millennials from school age well into their 20s were crucial organizers, phone bankers and online networkers, utilizing technology and rabid confidence to advocate for their futures. It's highly unlikely this sort of activity will go dormant just because the election is over, not with so much still at stake in America and worldwide.
 
While the millennials may have to face a short-term reality -- less money to throw around, fewer jobs they'll have to fight harder to get -- we'll likely see defiant solutions from them rather than shrugged shoulders. Perhaps living with mom and dad for a few years after university will now gain some cachet as a forward thinking, cost-saving move for young professionals.

Because of their upbringing and their intense technological savvy, millennials are problem-solvers and creative thinkers by nature. This political landscape, as well as this financial crisis and its fallout, demand just such energy and innovation. Businesses and government must open the dialogue and encourage discussion with these kinds of thinkers, as their ideas may be where the solutions ultimately arise.
 
Marian Salzman is chief marketing officer of Porter Novelli.