Generation Z

The digital world has now moved beyond merely being a reflection of the cultures of societies and communities. It is a distinct sphere of existence with its own language and unique culture. With its own set of values, imagery and life rituals, it transforms everyone who chooses to exist within it. I cannot say whether definitions of identity within that culture are formed more frequently through judgements, labels and behavioural patterns, or whether it simply strikes me more often, but I am still trying to get used to encountering many concepts that we have long used as management tools in the business world as mere cultural elements of the digital world. 

Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised; it is certainly true that the human brain feels more secure when dealing with information that it has defined, categorised and stored, and to which it has assigned an adjective from its lexicon. That is why models, jargon and pithy sayings built around categories and generalisations find an audience so easily. Generational language is just such a thing. In particular, the discourse and labels surrounding Generation Z—as children of the digital world who were born into it rather than having to learn the technology—are a major source of content on social media. Both the ‘older’ people from the pre-digital world and Generation Z itself attempt to squeeze an entire generation into a single human identity by making generalised labels, even though everyone’s portrayal is from their own perspective…

Whilst those of the older generation tend to characterise young people as impatient, indecisive, anxious, quick to give up in the face of obstacles, selfishly prioritising their individuality, and lacking social skills, young people describe themselves as a generation that is integrated with the world, does not judge differences, chooses to live life embracing multiple identities, and socialises whilst upholding their individuality.

The spirit of the times is, of course, shaping the children it nurtures with shared characteristics, but I fear the limitations of trying to squeeze an entire generation into a single mould through the medium of social media. 

These children may or may not be impatient. They may reject patience as an act of defiance against parents who present it to them as a form of passive waiting, or they may simply be accepting the daily routine without calling it ‘patience’ whilst being put to work in some capacity as children.

These children may be indecisive. From a young age, faced with an endless array of choices—starting with food and toys—many find that whenever they hesitate, they have the opportunity to change their minds or put things off. However, as life itself offers them few opportunities, there are also many who define their way out as leading from a single point and who continue to cling to that way out—sometimes in despair, sometimes with determination.

These children may be more anxious. Because they view the world from a broader perspective and weigh up more possibilities. They may be more anxious because their expectations of life are high. Or, conversely, they may be deeply anxious, having recognised the seemingly insurmountable gap between alternative lives and their own reality, and sinking into a sense of despondency.

There may also be those who, without judging these differences, strive to fit multiple lives into their world whilst searching for a multifaceted identity. Or those who, without knowing where life is taking them, confine their existence to the identity of a branded coffee poured into a single-use plastic cup…

In a world that is shrinking ever further due to technology and globalisation, because they have chosen their role model from another corner of the globe, because the sense of easy accessibility has blurred the boundaries in their eyes, leading them to regard the whole world as their homeland, or because they question the references to the land of their birth more frequently and more vocally than their parents do—can we really judge them?

Or perhaps, on the contrary, can we be angry with those who, because we have not yet taught them critical thinking or how to ask questions whilst they are still at school, are quickly stirred by empty rhetoric and jingoism, and are trying to find a sense of belonging?

They might be someone who spends two hours labouring over a photo to post on Instagram, waging an existential struggle for their place in society, or someone who wishes to live out their individuality amidst the crowd by publishing their digital creations anonymously. 

In short, the ‘generational’ discourse is as dangerous as it is useful; as long as it generalises, it is reductive. In fact, any form of categorisation carries its own limitations. If the behavioural patterns frequently displayed help us to understand them, to relate to them without judgement or devaluation, and to support them, then let us open our hearts to generational theories. On the other hand, if the aim is to ‘manage’ these young people—who have grown up with the spirit of the times—more ‘effectively’, to manipulate them, or to dictate the sort of identity politics they will buy into, then to hell with all such theories. 

Ultimately, beyond all theories and understood by children of all ages, there is one unchanging truth: the language of genuine love…

Emine Ebru Arslan