Toronto, May 19, 2024
The naming of generations
Okay, boomer!
What does this mean? What does it imply when directed at a martini-swilling almost-octogenarian by a young guy wearing a baseball cap backwards?
A 2019 New York Times article said widespread use of “okay, boomer” marks the end of friendly generational relations. Francine Prose wrote in The Guardian that the phrase reflects general cultural acceptance of discrimination against older generations. Wikipedia says “okay, boomer” is used “to dismiss or mock attitudes typically associated with... people born in the two decades following World War II.”
Wait a minute. Born following World War II? I’m in the clear! I was born in 1944. Hitler was still alive. I’m not a boomer. So don’t dismiss or mock my attitudes.
Every generation has been given a label. Boomers, Generation X, Millenials, Generation Z, Generation Alpha. Why is this labelling thought to be a good idea? I complained about it at a recent lunch with my children and grandchildren. Maybe I came across as a bit cranky. My daughter Gabrielle rolled her eyes and said—guess what—“okay, boomer.” “I’m not a boomer,” I said. “When I was born, World War II was still on. German V-1 flying bombs were dropping on London. One day my pregnant mother, your grandmother, out shopping for baby clothes for me, had to shelter in a ditch on her way home.”
Gabrielle did a bit of quick Googling on her smart phone between sips of Pinot Grigio. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re not a boomer. You’re a member of the Silent Generation. You’re a Silent. It says here, ‘This cohort grew up during a period of war and economic depression, so their personality could be seen as being silenced or muted by these events.’” Personality silenced or muted? I know people who wouldn’t agree with that.
Gabrielle is Gen X (those born between 1965 and 1980). Gen X is described by Perplexity, still my favourite chatbot, as having lived “through rapid social, economic, and technological changes, making them highly adaptable and comfortable with change.” Her son and daughter, my grandkids, are Gen Z (1997-2012). Perplexity says of Gen Z, “They have grown up amid diverse family structures and are comfortable with differences in race, sexual orientation, and religion.”
This kind of sociological typecasting strikes me as sloppy, indeed, ludicrous. It tries to define what is beyond definition. It draws lines that don’t exist. False thinking this way provokes harmful disdain based on age and presumed attitude. Guess what, some members of the Silent Generation are completely comfortable with differences in race, sexual orientation, and religion; some members of Gen X have trouble with change; etcetera, etcetera.
Generational labels are just another expression of destructive identity politics. I’ve written elsewhere (in my 2023 book on antisemitism) that identity politics “rejects universalism in favour of particularism, liberalism in favour of tribalism. It emphasizes individual cultural issues and ignores the complex nature of major problems, such as climate change, which cut across particular identities. It turns its back upon traditional ideals that transcend group divides... It repudiates universalist philosophical movements, including the concept of universal human rights.” This applies in spades to the naming of generations.
Let’s talk instead about common interests and ambitions and problems, the things holding us all together. Although, admittedly, as Cixin Lu, a boomer born in 1963, writes in the postscript to his astonishing science-fiction novel The Three-Body Problem, “Every era puts invisible shackles on those who have lived through it, and I can only dance in my chains...”
Okay, boomer!
Here are some reader comments on Newsletter #65 about civility in Denmark
A Danish reader wrote: “There is a reason for Scandinavians love of alcohol. We govern ourselves with a strong internal sense of doing the right thing. Our only escape is getting shitfaced drunk.”
Another alcohol-focussed comment read: “A gadfly is an annoying and persistent person who provokes others, while the quiet zone refers to a designated area where noise and disturbances are prohibited... The effects of alcohol may amplify the gadfly's tendency to pester and irritate others, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere of the quiet zone...”
This comment was of particular interest: “I agree with your characterization of Danish, and Scandinavian society in general, as civil. I have travelled to Denmark several times since 2000 (most recently last year) to thank the Danes for taking care of my father when his Halifax bomber was shot down over Denmark during the Second World War. The Danes fed, hide and provided medical care to my father for several weeks before he decided to try to travel to Sweden and from Sweden to return to England. Unfortunately, he was captured by the Germans while still in Denmark and spent the rest of the war in prisoner of war camp near Dresden.”
A comment from an eminent psychiatrist: “Trust Philip to parse politeness, civility and kindness before arriving at conformity and then exposing its dark side. How apt that the picture features his questioning raised eyebrows as he quaffs a three-olive martini, a flaneur on the boulevard of orthodoxy.”
And, finally, from a particularly frank reader: “Wish I had something clever or intelligent to contribute. I don't.”
Another great column from Philip, this time musing about what I think are relentless human drives toward taxonomy, hierarchy, and territory. We are relentless classifiers, whether as botanists or philosophers; ordering the universe helps us make sense of the chaos, carving nature at its joints such that being on either side of a birth year makes a supposed difference. But we don’t stop there. We then rank-order our categories - as in “The Greatest Generation” or even “Best Columns by Philip”. Finally, we mark our territories, either with uriniferous perimeters or simply by saying, “Okay, boomer” - a thinly veiled, “Piss off”.
Very good piece. Of all the appellations I might apply to you, "silent" is not one of them.