Some news stories strike us because of what they tell us. Others, almost unintentionally, open a window onto something larger. The tragic death of Erin Piacenti, 32, a vice president at Bank of America who was killed on August 31 in Times Square in a random attack, unfortunately belongs to the first category.
It is a story that, first and foremost, deserves to be approached with respect, without turning it into a pretext. But as I read her professional biography, one detail struck me: 32 years old, a degree from the University of Pennsylvania, a law degree from Fordham University, and already holding a position of responsibility at one of the world’s largest banks.
Of course, one point needs to be clarified immediately. At major American banks, the title of Vice President does not necessarily correspond to what we in Italy imagine when we hear the word “vice president.” Corporate title structures are different, and Vice President often identifies a mid-level managerial position. But that actually makes the comparison even more interesting. This is not about the title printed on a business card. It is about the point in someone’s professional life when an organization decides that person can be given responsibility, evaluated on results, and genuinely included in decision-making processes.
Seen from this perspective, the distance between Italy and the United States immediately becomes apparent – and it is much less anecdotal and far more structural.
According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, approximately 20.9 million people in the United States worked in “management occupations” in 2025. Of these, 3.66 million were between the ages of 25 and 34 – more than 17% of the entire managerial workforce. If we broaden the picture to include managerial, professional, and financial occupations, the presence of young adults increases further. Even among chief executives, the BLS counts approximately 148,000 people between the ages of 25 and 34.
This does not mean, of course, that America is run by thirty-somethings. The median age of American managers is still above 46, while that of chief executives exceeds 51. What it does mean is that the door to responsibility opens earlier, and that the system considers it normal for a relatively young person to be tested against real objectives.
In Italy, the problem seems to be different.
We have young talent – although the numbers still leave room for improvement: the OECD notes that in 2023 only 30.6% of Italians between the ages of 25 and 34 had completed tertiary education, compared with an OECD average of 47.6%. Our young people are often highly skilled and increasingly international, but they encounter a workplace culture that still tends to correlate trust, position, and recognition with seniority. The system struggles to reward them quickly, while salaries, stability, and career advancement often remain more closely tied to time spent within an organization than to the ability to take on responsibility.
Perhaps that is precisely our problem: it is not that young Italians arrive late, but that we decide too late to regard them as professional adults.
As a manager, I have seen this mechanism at work many times.
Italian organizations talk a great deal about young talent, succession, and future leadership, but the actual transfer of responsibility is often postponed. Experience is demanded before people have even been given the opportunity to acquire it. Career paths are long and sometimes extremely cautious, while elsewhere young people are exposed earlier to risk, mistakes, responsibility, and therefore also to the opportunity to demonstrate what they are capable of.
The result is that a significant share of our human capital looks elsewhere for the opportunities it cannot find at home. In its 2026 Economic Survey of Italy, the OECD notes that more than 400,000 Italians between the ages of 18 and 34 left the country between 2012 and 2023. We often describe this as a “brain drain,” but perhaps we should interpret it differently: we are not merely exporting skills. We are exporting responsibility. We educate people whom other economic systems more rapidly turn into researchers, professionals, entrepreneurs, and managers.
For someone writing for We the Italians, this reflection becomes even more interesting when we look at the Italian American community. The history of Italians in the United States is an extraordinary demonstration of what can happen when Italian human capital encounters an ecosystem more open to social mobility. According to the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, approximately 16 million people in the United States identify as having Italian ancestry. Data derived from the American Community Survey show that Italian Americans have a median household income of approximately $90,500 – more than 20% above the national average – while more than 42% of adults of Italian descent hold at least a bachelor’s degree.
It is a remarkable transformation when we consider where that story began. Italians who arrived in the United States in the 19th and 20th centuries were often poor, had little formal education, and were far removed from the country’s economic and cultural elites. Within a few generations, their descendants had fully entered the professions, universities, finance, business, public institutions, and the nation’s leadership class.
Of course, it would be naive to attribute all of this solely to the American model, just as it would be wrong to argue that talent is always recognized in the United States or that social mobility works perfectly. America has deep inequalities, a demanding labor market, and an education system that can impose enormous costs on families. But one question remains worth asking: what happens to Italian talent when it is given the opportunity to run?
The answer also concerns the future of our companies.
In an Italy that ranks among Europe’s oldest countries demographically, continuing to transfer responsibility slowly from one generation to the next is no longer merely a matter of corporate organization. It is a question of national competitiveness. The experience of senior professionals remains an invaluable asset – perhaps even more valuable today than in the past – but its value does not lie in retaining decision-making power for as long as possible. Its value lies in successfully transferring knowledge, judgment, and discernment to those who will come next, while supporting them as they assume real responsibility.
In my view, this is what we should learn from the United States without simply imitating it: not replacing experience with youth, but allowing the two to work together earlier.
The tragic story of Erin Piacenti unintentionally leaves us with this image as well. By 32, she had studied at two major universities, become an attorney, and reached a managerial position at Bank of America. We do not know what her professional future would have held. But we do know that, at 32, someone had already decided to entrust her with responsibility.
Perhaps the question we should bring back to Italy is not whether an Italian Erin could have become a vice president at a major bank at the same age.
The far more uncomfortable question is whether we would at least have given her the chance to try.
