Gen Z and Radically Immoderate Pessimism
What can we do with a generation steeped in pessimism about the world and their futures?
I had a great conversation with the economist Albert Kling about the book Generations, by Jean Twenge, the other day (you can watch the full discussion here).
One of the more troubling findings in Twenge’s work is the deep pessimism and depression that characterizes Gen Z. The Wall Street Journal summarizes Twenge’s main findings:
Generation Z exhibits higher rates of suicide and depression since studies began in 1950 and far higher rates of general pessimism than any generation dating to 1960. According to Ms. Twenge’s research, between 2005 and 2017 rates of major depression increased 52% in adolescents (12 to 17), and 63% in young adults (18 to 25).
Twenge attributes this rise in large part to the rise of smartphones, since the tipping point appears to be around 2012, when smartphones became ubiquitous. As I note in the conversation with Kling, this shouldn’t be surprising. Humans are primed to think in terms of relative status. This means we’re really sensitive to inputs from what we understand as our relevant social group.
When I grew up as a Gen X/Millenial, my relevant social group was the friends I saw every day, who were a lot like me (with the occasional pop star thrown in). I was mildly envious of the rich kids in our school, but didn’t see them as a relevant part of my peer group in a meaningful way.
For Gen Z, their peer group has artificially inflated to include influencers with money and filters and cosmetic surgery on TikTok. It’s not terribly surprising that the rates of depression have skyrocketed for girls in particularly, who are more vulnerable than boys to the curated physical perfection they see on social media. But boys too are affected.
But it’s not just the shift in their relevant peer groups. Smartphones, Twenge argues, have made this generation uniquely lonely. Gen Z spends less time with friends and more time online. She notes that mental health for this generation actually increased during the pandemic, unlike for every other generation, which she attributes to better sleep and more time with family.
As Twenge notes in Generations, this is a silent epidemic: “Imagine if nine domestic airline flights filled with ten- to 24-year-olds crashed every single year killing everyone on board. Airplanes would not be allowed to fly again until we figured out why.”
But, outside of college administrators wringing their hands about the mental health needs of this generation, I don’t see a lot of discussion of what can be done.
There’s a lot more to say here and I hope to come back to the subject of unwarranted pessimism in future posts, but here are some of the things I’m thinking about more as I think about how this current generation will move through the world:
I think a lot about what this means for my parenting. My husband and I have agreed that, at least for the foreseeable future, social media will probably not be part of our kids’ lives, at least not until they’re much older. There’s more to say here, but right now our moderate position is that our kids will probably get dumb phones in middle school, but I can’t see any reason for a kid to have a phone with the internet or social media apps on it at this point.
I also think a lot about what this depression and pessimism means for social and political institutions. Can a generation this deeply depressed and pessimistic accurately assess what needs to get done? Twenge notes in her book that Gen Z is deeply pessimistic about things like gender discrimination in college admissions, even though it’s not, actually, a problem anymore (quite the reverse, actually). I’ve pointed out in a previous post that this generation of college students doesn’t seem to fully grasp how amazing they have it or where progress actually needs to be made. By tilting at windmills, they’re missing the real opportunities to make the world better.
I also think a lot about what this means for the future of radical moderation. We can’t reject the false political and moral binary without an accurate map of our 4D moral and political landscape, but that’s exactly what this generation doesn’t seem to have. Their depression and anxiety has colored their view of the world in a way that makes it hard to accurately assess how things can or should change and what’s worth keeping. This is particularly dangerous in relation to their views on capitalism and free speech.
Finally, I think a lot about what this all means about the future. As Twenge notes, this generation is also much less likely to say they want kids and, honestly, why would they? If they’re convinced the world is a fundamentally unjust and awful place - all evidence to the contrary - why would they bring new human beings into the world? Reproduction is, in some sense a deep act of optimism, and this coming generation doesn’t have a lot of that. But reproduction is - in a foundational way - what makes the future possible.
The good news is that there’s still time to turn things around (I think). This generation is young and they’re thoughtful and empathetic. They care about other people. And they live among other generations who love them and want to help them. But we do need to think about an action plan. This generation may be different in kind from what came before and may post challenges to building a more radically moderate world that we haven’t really seen before. I’m not sure yet where the solution lies, but ignoring the problem doesn’t seem sustainable, for us or for future generations.
As always, let me know what you think in the comments! And if you like what you read, please subscribe and share!
I think you mean Arnold Kling.
I think.