I watched the final episode of “Jutro će promeniti sve” the other night. It left me heavy-hearted all evening. Unassuming yet monumental for our television, for our generation. The way Vlada Tagić and Goran Stanković laid bare their souls—heart, fears, rawest emotions—then, with their team of genius creators, turned it into a golden landmark of our time through a format never before seen on Serbian TV… that’s not just a creative triumph. It hit deeper. Maybe because I, too, am in my thirties. Maybe because I, too, am a director who had the honor of studying alongside Goran and looking up to him.

Because this series is also an ode to the only certainty our generation has: nothing is certain, and change is the only constant. Solid, unshakable foundations? Those exist only “once upon a time” and “somewhere far away.”

Corporate Gold Dust vs. Millennial Fluidity

Unlike the fluidity that defines both the series and millennials at large, corporate Belgrade is painfully predictable—one thing in particular. If you haven’t attended a New Year’s cocktail “for partners, friends, and loyal clients,” a company gathering “to celebrate successes,” or an awards ceremony “for excellence,” if you haven’t clinked champagne glasses or dusted yourself with golden confetti in a luxury hotel ballroom these past few weeks—well, you might as well not exist in the corporate world.

But beneath the glitter and small talk, something else has crept into business conversations: a foggy uncertainty about the future, a nagging doubt, an undefined gut feeling that things keep changing—and we don’t fully grasp them. Almost everyone (if not literally everyone) complained about “a tough year.” A sluggish market, heavy taxes, unpaid invoices, and—perhaps most glaring—the Sisyphean struggle to find good candidates and the Golgotha of retaining great employees.

What Employees Really Want (Spoiler: It’s Not Just Money)

Employees aren’t hiding what they expect from employers: 80% are actively job-hunting. (As a thirty-something employer hiring my own generation, I’ve always believed my core responsibility is to help my team succeed in their careers—even if that means somewhere else. I celebrate everyone’s wins.) And when they do find a job, they want stability, great interpersonal dynamics, but above all—flexible hours. Oh, and private health checks and salaries over 80k, if possible. Yet 80% still consider switching jobs! Rinse and repeat. As one of Serbia’s top editors put it: “What the hell else do you people want?!”

We’ve learned from the best to ask bold questions—and answer them even bolder. So here goes:
We want, damn it, better employers! We want the values we cherish in life to spill over into work. Because the “8 hours of work, rest, and sleep” formula is practically prehistoric—hell, even “work-life balance” is outdated. Now, we’re talking about life-work integration, a single, fluid existence where work is a big part—but built on freedom, creativity, and flexibility. You’ve got to reinvent what responsibility toward your people even means!

Who Gets It?

Few. Goran Stanković and Vlada Tagić, absolutely. But some in business do, too. Take Olga Svoboda and her GI Grupa, this year’s best employer among SMEs. Or Manpower, the industry leader in Serbia, steered by my generation’s Aleksandar Hangimana. Or their peer Dušan Basalo (partner at Atrija and the driving force behind SAM’s mentorship program). What sector are they in? Human resources, of course. They know where to look and what to change—because they’re the best at what they do, often before the rest of us even catch on.

What We Really Want

We want jobs that aren’t gilded cages, but springboards. We’re fine with stumbling as we move, building homes on shifting ground. We want employers who understand us like “Jutro” did—or maybe we don’t. And that’s okay, too. That’s the relationship we need now. So 2019 can be the golden yearour year. The year of change.

5December2023

The ceiling above every desk, hallway, meeting room, restaurant, and lounge in Facebook’s offices worldwide looks the same—a tangle of massive ventilation ducts wrapped in aluminum foil, snaking cables, routers, switches, bare lighting and sound wires, all held together by an exposed metal skeleton. This industrial-chosen aesthetic carries the signature of Frank Gehry, the starchitect behind Bilbao’s Guggenheim Museum and LA’s Walt Disney Concert Hall. Even in Facebook’s sprawling Dublin campus—which recently became the company’s global headquarters, inheriting the crown from Menlo Park (tax incentives likely playing a role)—Gehry’s raw design persists.

At first glance, you might wonder—why couldn’t Gehry just install proper ceilings? Maybe some elegant plaster moldings like in any self-respecting Balkan home, with halogen lights on dimmers for ambiance?

“Absolutely not,” explains one of Facebook’s lead systems engineers as we walk beneath kilometers of exposed infrastructure in their Dublin nerve center. His Sarajevo accent—somewhere between Marin Dvor and Skenderija—colors his words. “A finished ceiling was never an option,” he says. “This design embodies a core message—that our mission is only one percent complete.” Founder Mark Zuckerberg wants employees reminded of this every time they look up.

Consider this: Facebook’s services recently surpassed 2.8 billion monthly active users. Yet in Zuckerberg’s vision of “connecting everyone on Earth,” this staggering number represents just… one percent. The implication is clear—there’s work left for generations.

This philosophy fuels Facebook’s obsessive efforts to attract and retain top talent, especially systems engineers—the backbone of any tech giant. My Bosnian guide, who oversees three European data centers, always flies business class on Facebook’s dime—a privilege not even extended to all executives. The campus boasts Michelin-starred chefs serving free meals (vegan, halal, you name it), an industrial-scale laundry service returning folded clothes by afternoon, and relocation teams handling everything from visas to apartment hunting.

Healthcare includes on-site psychologists, occupational doctors, and 24/7 telemedicine with global coverage. The company funds IVF treatments and surrogacy. Childcare centers, yoga studios, jiujitsu dojos—every conceivable perk exists.

“Do you actually use all this?” I ask.
“Never have time,” he admits without looking up from his phone.

Of course not. These luxuries exist precisely so employees never need to leave. Facebook hires about 700 people weekly worldwide (70 in Ireland alone), though they’re quieter about attrition rates. Where would anyone go? To another tech giant? The global job market suddenly seems very small.

“Did you consider working elsewhere?”
“Only here. Google’s too geeky. We serve a real social purpose.”

For this Sarajevo native, Facebook’s employer branding worked perfectly. The mission resonates. Though after spending days immersed in their world, I realize—like their ceiling design suggests—they’ve barely begun. One percent down.