Generation Apathy
Blame it on Neo-Liberalism
Gen Z is often described as a generation defined by ambiguity and fluidity, but this detachment from traditional labels may not be as revolutionary as it appears. We question identity and social constructs, frequently rejecting the conventions that shape other generations. Yet, we are living through a uniquely turbulent period in history. Despite undeniable strides, chaos seems only to grow more unruly, often leaving us disillusioned. We are told that we have given up, that we have taken the easy way out. But why is giving up considered the easy way out? Is it a way out of reality? It isn’t. We still have to deal with it.
The prevailing “doom and gloom” narrative has undeniably shaped Gen Z’s outlook, leading many to adopt a detached, sometimes sarcastic view of the world. We feel misled and powerless. This supposed “apathy” may not stem from indifference but rather from disappointment with systems that have consistently failed to deliver meaningful change. For some, this apathy might even be performative—a product of a culture that values ironic detachment and finds emotional vulnerability hard to express.
Generation Z isn’t apathetic—we’re exhausted. Living in a world constantly on fire, both figuratively and literally, we’re bombarded by tragedy on every feed, headline, and post. Ours is a generation thrust into a media landscape that profits off perpetual crises, creating a cycle where we’re urged to react, to take action, to show we care, only for the next tragedy to roll in almost immediately. From Protests to Pet Videos in 5 Seconds, that’s our life.
However, we still lack significant representation in lawmaking. I can’t imagine someone destructive of the establishments to be part of the lawmaking. In such a scenario, not showing our fears becomes a survival mechanism; we appear detached to protect ourselves from constant, overwhelming sadness and fear.
Repeated disappointments have fostered a kind of learned cynicism, prompting Gen Z to cope with challenges through humour and detachment. Growing up in an era of excess and superficiality, where social media reigns supreme, we are constantly flooded with information where everything is a meme or a witty quip. This overexposure has desensitized many of us, creating a tendency to swipe past pressing issues or, conversely, engage with causes so intensely that we expect universal buy-in.
Ironically, while we celebrate our freedom to define ourselves, our identities are increasingly shaped not by personal autonomy but by digital algorithms. Our understanding of the world, our choices, and even our values are often filtered and curated by forces beyond our control, creating a tension between our desire for self-definition and the constraints imposed by a digital world that endlessly seeks to define us.
In previous generations, identity was often built around family, community, culture, and personal experiences. While these elements still matter, Gen Z’s sense of self is increasingly moulded by what we consume online. Algorithms don’t just show us content; they subtly shape our reality by filtering what we see, hear, and even believe. When we scroll through posts, join discussions, and share content, we’re surrounded by voices that appear to mirror our own. The social identity we build online feels so complete, so validated, that we come to assume it reflects the views of our entire generation.
I’ve been taken aback, even shocked, to realize that many young people don’t share the same progressive or socially conscious values that my social media suggested were universal. It’s a wake-up call to discover that opinions, political leanings, and even cultural perspectives that I assumed were widely accepted are, in fact, just fragments of a broader and more diverse reality.
Yet, stepping outside this digital ecosystem reveals a different story. In the real world, we encounter people who are disconnected from the “norms” set by our online communities. They might not prioritize the same causes or see issues through the same lens. For someone steeped in the world of digital discourse, this is a jarring revelation. How could the people around me, who are my age and part of my generation, hold views that feel so out of sync with what I thought we all agreed on?
This gap between our curated digital selves and the diversity of real-world experiences highlights a paradox: social media, which promises connection, often isolates us from the perspectives we need most. In building our online communities, we sometimes create echo chambers, narrowing our worldview without even realizing it. For a generation that values inclusivity, it’s ironic that we can be quick to dismiss anyone who doesn’t fit the mould of our carefully constructed online ideals. The internet has become a place where even subtle disagreements can lead to outsized reactions, with people quick to “correct” others rather than seek understanding.
We’re dictating the rules of society with a digital stick, pressuring everyone to conform to the same norms and ideals—even when these ideals lack the nuance that real-world situations demand. Rage bait becomes the catalyst for engagement; people respond most intensely when something clashes with their carefully curated feeds. That singular content, deviating from the algorithms that reinforce our beliefs, quickly ignites backlash or hostility. It’s a reactive cycle that keeps us engaged but leaves little room for the complexity or empathy that fosters true understanding.
How can we, as young adults just stepping into the world, feel hopeful in such an environment? Our sense of possibility and optimism feels stifled when we're constantly bombarded with extremes. There’s little room for measured, thoughtful conversations—the kind that might allow us to bridge divides or see the world from another’s eyes. So, I ask, can you? Can you genuinely feel hopeful about a world where disagreement so often devolves into discord, and where the algorithms seem to thrive on our disillusionment?
Even our idols—the influencers and pop culture icons we “stan”—seem distant and scripted. When these celebrities endorse a cause, we know it's filtered through layers of branding and PR. Of course, there are exceptions. Take Gen Z activists like Greta Thunberg, who rose to prominence for her unflinching approach to climate activism. Greta could have comfortably embraced a mainstream role as the “face of climate change,” gaining popularity without controversy. Instead, she has boldly chosen to call out the entanglements of environmental harm, capitalism, and imperialism, even at the risk of being criticized from all sides.
Greta’s stance defies the typical labels, challenging both left and right by refusing to sanitize her message to fit into a palatable, "acceptable" form of activism. She doesn’t mould herself to appease either side, and she doesn’t simply champion progressives because they’re “on the right side.” Her activism is a challenge to everyone—calling us all to examine our own roles within these systems. This kind of resistance and authenticity is rare, especially in a world where powerful interests often attempt to co-opt or dilute the messages of prominent figures. Greta’s voice and actions make clear that genuine activism isn’t about alignment with any particular camp; it’s about addressing the root causes of the world’s problems, no matter how uncomfortable the truth may be.
Gen Z is often celebrated as socially aware and progressive—and to an extent, we are. We’re passionate, empathetic, and ready to challenge the status quo, even when the issues don’t directly affect us. Yet, the reality is more nuanced and at times darker. For most of us, activism has become more of a trend than a commitment. No one’s beliefs are all correct because there are no correct beliefs.
Our tools for questioning and understanding are vast, yet our perspectives are often limited by what the algorithm chooses to show us. This, perhaps, is Gen Z’s central struggle: we seek authenticity in a world designed to keep us uncertain.
In human behaviour, rationality is the exception, not the rule. Gen Z’s journey underscores this truth. We live in a paradox—empowered by digital tools yet constrained by them, yearning for change yet often caught in cycles of surface-level engagement.
Are we truly free to define ourselves, or have we just traded traditional labels for digital cages? Gen Z’s identity is less a self-made declaration than a digital mirage, one that leaves us asking, in a world so influenced by unseen forces, whether we know ourselves at all.