Extract from The Guardian
More than 700 years ago a young poet commenced a journey that would define the human condition. Dante’s The Divine Comedy continues
to resonate – arguably with new urgency in what many feel are dark
times. His journey through hell commenced on the night before Good
Friday in 1300 AD, when he was thirty-five, halfway through his allotted
three score and 10 years – the same age as the oldest millennials
today.
In Inferno, Dante passes through the nine circles of hell, confronting a pantheon of characters who are suffering for their lust, gluttony, greed, wrath, heresy, violence and fraud – before reaching the lowest circle, reserved for traitors. Contrary to the usual images of hell, the ninth circle is a frozen lake. In Dante’s reckoning, those responsible for destroying love and trust, the special bonds that enable people to co-operate, were not even worthy of hell’s fire.
Betrayal erodes trust – and today, trust is in short supply: trust in institutions, economic models, leaders, experts and the age-old intergenerational promise that children will do better, be happier, have a better life than their parents. Survey after survey reveals that this is driving political choices, and has perversely led to the election of wealthy old men whose lifetime’s guiding principle has not been service for the public good, but personal enrichment.
Before what will likely prove to be the epoch-defining elections of 2016 – the decision by the narrowest of majorities by Britain to leave the EU, by Americans to elect President Donald Trump and Australians to return the Liberal–National Coalition – the promise of a new world order seemed possible.
This was to be a global project powered by technology, enriched by social ventures and ready to address climate change and inequality. This has not disappeared, but sidelined under the cover of “business as usual” – business which, if not held in check, will accentuate the betrayal of a generation: while wages fail to rise, the costs of housing, health and education increase; secure, full-time jobs evaporate and nature waves the existential threat of climate change.
As the mother of millennials I feel this personally. The world we
have bequeathed to our children feels darker than the one I knew as a
young adult, when the existential threat of nuclear annihilation drew
hundreds of thousands to protest, when recession was the norm,
unemployment high, discrimination on the basis of gender, race and
sexual preference institutionalised – and almost everyone was poorer.
The stop-start booms that have accompanied deregulation and globalisation have enriched many of my generation. As a result we have been able to offer our children opportunities and experiences that were inconceivable just a few decades ago. The world they grew up in promised much, and as a result produced a generation that is well educated, worldly and informed, better able to communicate and more ambitious than their predecessors, though (still) idealistic.
But like squeezing blood from a stone, this has reached its limit: not for those who, like the prime minister Malcolm Turnbull, urged parents to help their children get established – as most of those of us who can, do – but collectively. The imbalance, the inequity of wealth and opportunity, is greater than it has been for a century. It is not just a matter of the rich getting richer – the mega-rich inhabit another stratosphere and it is obvious they are in no mood to give up their privilege, fighting even modest proposals to aid redistribution and regulation.
It may be that this context helps explains why millennials have been subjected to such vicious attacks – for being lazy, choosy, entitled, self-indulgent, unreliable, avo-munching, social-media junkies. When the system is not delivering what it promised it is easy to blame those at the bottom of the pile.
The reaction is not surprising. In the developed world there are record levels of anxiety and depression, and deep feelings of pessimism among millennials. Yet there are countries where the spoils of globalisation have transformed lives and there is more optimism. Across the world there are those who are using the tools of globalisation, education and technology to create new opportunities. In my immediate circle I know brilliant young people bringing solar power to the slums of India, teaching refugees how to code, using crowdfunding to challenge anti-democratic laws, helping disadvantaged kids get an education, and more.
Intergenerational rivalry is a given. As Canadian columnist Mark Hill wrote:
Contrary to popular opinion, the data shows that many of the most noisily embraced tropes are myths – in fact, millennials are better educated, work longer hours but earn less, yet are more connected and open to possibilities than their parents and grandparents. That they remain positive in a world where the odds often seem to be are stacked against them is a testament to resilience and a sign that trust has not been destroyed.
Julianne Schultz is the founding editor of Griffith Review, she co-edited edition 56, Millennials Strike Back, with Jerath Head.
In Inferno, Dante passes through the nine circles of hell, confronting a pantheon of characters who are suffering for their lust, gluttony, greed, wrath, heresy, violence and fraud – before reaching the lowest circle, reserved for traitors. Contrary to the usual images of hell, the ninth circle is a frozen lake. In Dante’s reckoning, those responsible for destroying love and trust, the special bonds that enable people to co-operate, were not even worthy of hell’s fire.
Betrayal erodes trust – and today, trust is in short supply: trust in institutions, economic models, leaders, experts and the age-old intergenerational promise that children will do better, be happier, have a better life than their parents. Survey after survey reveals that this is driving political choices, and has perversely led to the election of wealthy old men whose lifetime’s guiding principle has not been service for the public good, but personal enrichment.
Before what will likely prove to be the epoch-defining elections of 2016 – the decision by the narrowest of majorities by Britain to leave the EU, by Americans to elect President Donald Trump and Australians to return the Liberal–National Coalition – the promise of a new world order seemed possible.
This was to be a global project powered by technology, enriched by social ventures and ready to address climate change and inequality. This has not disappeared, but sidelined under the cover of “business as usual” – business which, if not held in check, will accentuate the betrayal of a generation: while wages fail to rise, the costs of housing, health and education increase; secure, full-time jobs evaporate and nature waves the existential threat of climate change.
The stop-start booms that have accompanied deregulation and globalisation have enriched many of my generation. As a result we have been able to offer our children opportunities and experiences that were inconceivable just a few decades ago. The world they grew up in promised much, and as a result produced a generation that is well educated, worldly and informed, better able to communicate and more ambitious than their predecessors, though (still) idealistic.
But like squeezing blood from a stone, this has reached its limit: not for those who, like the prime minister Malcolm Turnbull, urged parents to help their children get established – as most of those of us who can, do – but collectively. The imbalance, the inequity of wealth and opportunity, is greater than it has been for a century. It is not just a matter of the rich getting richer – the mega-rich inhabit another stratosphere and it is obvious they are in no mood to give up their privilege, fighting even modest proposals to aid redistribution and regulation.
It may be that this context helps explains why millennials have been subjected to such vicious attacks – for being lazy, choosy, entitled, self-indulgent, unreliable, avo-munching, social-media junkies. When the system is not delivering what it promised it is easy to blame those at the bottom of the pile.
The reaction is not surprising. In the developed world there are record levels of anxiety and depression, and deep feelings of pessimism among millennials. Yet there are countries where the spoils of globalisation have transformed lives and there is more optimism. Across the world there are those who are using the tools of globalisation, education and technology to create new opportunities. In my immediate circle I know brilliant young people bringing solar power to the slums of India, teaching refugees how to code, using crowdfunding to challenge anti-democratic laws, helping disadvantaged kids get an education, and more.
Intergenerational rivalry is a given. As Canadian columnist Mark Hill wrote:
There is hope yet although the extent of the vitriol that this most talented generation is subjected to is astonishing. The same people who fear that their children may face a world in which the odds are stacked against them, are amongst those ready to blame and attack young people trying to make the best of a complex, rapidly changing world.Complaining about millennials is an industry now. Those angry headlines generate clicks and … cash-grab books about how to ‘manage millennials’, as if they’re self-centered aliens who just arrived on the planet. But we’re not unique. Baby boomers were dubbed the ‘Me Generation’ because they were considered lazy and narcissistic. The goddamn ancient Greeks complained about their uppity kids. If every generation was as lazy as the previous generation claimed, we’d have already devolved into moss-covered sloth people.
Contrary to popular opinion, the data shows that many of the most noisily embraced tropes are myths – in fact, millennials are better educated, work longer hours but earn less, yet are more connected and open to possibilities than their parents and grandparents. That they remain positive in a world where the odds often seem to be are stacked against them is a testament to resilience and a sign that trust has not been destroyed.
Julianne Schultz is the founding editor of Griffith Review, she co-edited edition 56, Millennials Strike Back, with Jerath Head.
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