In 2023, the Washington Post journalist Taylor Lorenz tweeted:
People are like ‘why are kids so depressed? It must be their PHONES!’ But never mention the fact that we’re living in a late stage capitalist hellscape during an ongoing deadly pandemic w record wealth inequality, 0 social safety net/job security, as climate change cooks the world
This quote wormed its way into my subconscious and has come up many times in conversation since then. There’s a lot to unpack in it, so I figured it would be a great application of the framework for critical thinking introduced in an earlier post: CAR (Comprehend, Analyze, Revise).
Quick recap for anyone who is new to The Adulting Professor: This blog is written for twentysomething year-olds and aims to equip them with all the life skills that were never taught in school. Whenever I write “you,” I’m referring to someone age 20-29 (or, if that doesn’t describe you, then I’m referring to the twentysomething that you’ll be forwarding this article to *wink wink nudge*).
1. Comprehend – “What are they saying?”
Taylor’s tweet prompted a big reaction in the political blogosphere at the time. I’m about 1.5 years late to the party, I know; the pandemic is basically over, and she has since deleted the Tweet.
But since then, many similar opinions have been expressed across tweets, headlines, and survey results: mental health for young people is at an all-time low, and many of these young people, like Taylor, attribute their low mood to concerns not about their own lives—but rather about the future of the world.
I’m going to intentionally sidestep the political claims in the tweet (we can analyze capitalism, inequality, public health, social welfare, and climate change another time!), and instead focus on its larger implications:
a) Gen Z is worse off than other generations in the past, and
b) Gen Z is doomed.
2. Analyze – “Do I agree?”
Is Gen Z uniquely screwed?
On the one hand, yes: some issues cited in the tweet are massive problems. Plus, there are other ones which, in my opinion, don’t get enough attention: the ballooning U.S. national debt, and existential risks to humanity (such as the possibility of a bioengineered supervirus).
On the other hand: what about other times in history that were worse?
The Black Death. During a period of four years (1347-1351), the plague killed 20-30 million people, which was 30-40% of Europe’s population. (By comparison, Covid-19 has killed an estimated 7 million people, which is <0.1% of the world population.) What must it have felt like to be alive at the time? To be witnessing one in every three people you know die before your eyes?
The Great Depression. From 1929-1932, the stock market dropped by nearly 90%. At the peak of the depression, 25% of Americans were unemployed, and the average family income had decreased by 40%. What must it have felt like to be American then? To not have a job, to be thrust abruptly into poverty, with little hope of the economy turning around?
The Cold War. At numerous points during the war, the U.S. and the Soviet Union edged close to nuclear warfare. In particular, during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, many people believed they were moments away from being destroyed in a nuclear blast. What must it have felt like then, to know that even if this particular crisis abated, the world would constantly be on the brink of nuclear disaster—and at some point, someone would make a bad decision and tens of millions of people would die nearly instantly?
Not only are you not living in one of these crisis periods, but also life has dramatically improved over the past 300 years, by nearly every possible metric:
global poverty has dropped from 84% to 10%
GDP per capita multiplied by nearly 20
infant mortality decreased from about 40% to 3%
life expectancy increased by about 40 years
(my personal favorite) the average amount of time spent on household chores decreased from about 60 to 15 hours per week
In other words: today, you are more likely—than at any other point in history—to be not poor, to have a higher income, to not die in childhood, to live much longer, and to have much more leisure time (ourworldindata.com has more great stats like these). Of course, this is not true for every person; these are statistics that take averages. But to make it obvious: would you rather be born into a random baby’s body 300 years ago, or into one today?
And yet, per point (b) above, must these good times come to an end? Perhaps these incredible advances in wellbeing are simply harbingers of the disasters to come. It wouldn’t be the first time in history that we feared for the end of the world:
During the Great Fire of London in 1666, in which most of the city burned, many people feared it was the end of the world, noting 666 is the devil’s number.
In 1999, many people believed that the “Y2K bug” would cripple computer systems and lead to the collapse of everything from the internet to banks.
In 2012, people noticed that the Mayans’ prophesized date of the end of the world was approaching (December 21, 2012). According one poll, more than 10% of people worldwide were at least somewhat concerned the world would end.
…not to mention all the religious movements and political rebellions spurred by apocalyptic fervor.
At every time in history when people thought the world was going to end, they were wrong. So statistically, what are the chances that you, uniquely, were born at the end times?
3. Revise – “What do I now believe?”
My erstwhile vague uncertainty about Taylor’s tweet has now been clarified. I do not believe that you are worse off than any generation in history, and I do not believe that you are doomed.
If so, why is that message seemingly ubiquitous in the news and on social media? Because negativity sells. Our brains are put on alert when we see things that stimulates fear, which leads to clicks. (I don’t think every journalist is intentionally trying to stoke this sense of despair, but the incentive structure of both traditional and social media has made it endemic.)
Furthermore, I think that this sentiment has negative, even dangerous, consequences. If you believe that you are doomed, you’re more likely to give up: you won’t try to create new solutions for society’s problems (believing them to be fruitless), you won’t have children (for fear of bringing them into a broken world), and you’ll lose a sense of agency and control over your own life (which leads to personal misery).
My problem is not with pessimism (some pessimism can be healthy); my problem is with fatalism. Gen Z is indeed facing massive problems. Yet, as with all problems in history, they can be solved—and you can emerge with a future for yourselves and your descendants that continues to gain more prosperity, less poverty, more years of life… and fewer household chores.