Generational Shift: How Technology, Parenting, and Culture Transformed American Life Since the 1970s
Generation X shouldn’t judge Millennials or Gen Z, after all, Generation X created them.
I became a father in 2015 at fifty-three—I do not advise this to anyone, especially fathers or fathers to be. When my daughter started school, the gap between my Gen X upbringing and today’s Millennials and Gen Z became obvious.
In my youth, The Beach Boys and Jan and Dean ruled the airwaves. When my daughter arrived, Justin Bieber and One Direction had taken over Spotify. The issue is not the music or the artists but the delivery of the music: streaming crisp digital tracks instead of enduring the static-filled AM radio of my youth reflects the broader cultural and technological changes over time.
Yet, this shift in music consumption highlights broader changes. It is not the music or how people listen—it is about a deeper transformation, the way technology has redefined how we interact with not only music but also culture and time. I grew up listening to vinyl records, then 8-tracks, then cassettes, and finally CDs. To get a record, 8-track, or any music I had to physically go to a brick-and-mortar store such as Turtles, Tower records, or HMV records to get my music fix. Or, I could sign up to Columbia House and have music sent to my house . . .a few weeks later.
Society, education, and technology have changed in ways that seemed unthinkable during my school days in the late sixties and seventies. Take society, for example. Today’s generation rejects Halloween costumes that might offend. Thanksgiving and Columbus Day, once widely celebrated, are now criticized by Millennials and Gen Z as symbols of colonial conquest over Native Americans.
While some people have always protested these holidays, it feels as if the younger generations have truly amplified these concerns. What caused this shift? Why has the backlash against national holidays gained such momentum? Society’s evolution is only part of the story—education and technology has changed, too.
Today classes can be taken online. During the pandemic, my daughter’s school canceled in-person lessons and moved everything to the Zoom video conferencing app. Even before the lockdowns, some of her schoolwork was presented on the school’s website. Higher education has followed a similar path.
Today, someone can earn a degree without ever leaving their home. In the 1970s, our equivalent was mail-order correspondence courses where we could get degrees in education, social work, or an MBA. Today, technology such as email, smartphones, and video calls now makes earning a degree from your living room a normal experience.
Gone are the days of stamps and handwritten letters. Now, it is email, instant messaging, social media, smartphones, Zoom calls, and Amazon deliveries at the tap of a screen. I had snail mail, the Sears catalog, and a phone anchored to my kitchen wall with a ten foot spiral cord attached to it. Parcels took days, sometimes weeks, to arrive. Instant gratification was not an option.
The art of long-term thinking, planning, patience, and investment in future outcomes has been replaced by a demand for quick solutions and immediate rewards. In general, long-term thinking is being sacrificed for fast food, fast answers, and fast success. In other words, we have become a short-order society, would you like fries with that?
Students today have it made. Homework and research can be done from anywhere with a few clicks. The World Book Encyclopedia, once a massive, expensive set, is now a digital relic. Back then, owning one meant having a 26-volume collection that needed a dedicated shelf and years to pay off. Now, every dictionary and thesaurus is a click away.
Grammar and spell-checking apps proofread for them; AI tools like ChatGPT can even complete assignments. We had none of that. We spent hours after school and on weekends writing, revising, and editing essays by hand. Calculators and typewriters were the only technology we had.
When I tackled homework, I relied on the library or an encyclopedia set that cost a small fortune. Walking through the aisles, searching for books, magazines, and newspaper clippings racked up thousands of steps. After school were often spent sifting through microfiche, newspapers, and journals. Even that process required mastering the card catalog system. Remember those?
The differences are stark, but the cultural shifts remind us that each generation faces its challenges. Embracing change without losing sight of patience and perseverance remains the key to navigating this ever-evolving world.
Do you remember overhead projectors and transparencies? And those mimeograph machines? You could always spot the person who handled them—the blue stains on their fingers gave it away. And the scent of freshly printed copies? It lingers in memory. Ask today’s students about mimeographs, and you’ll get blank stares. Ask a Gen Xer, and they will smile, recalling that unforgettable smell. But times have changed. Video projectors, interactive whiteboards, and photocopiers have taken over.
My daughter’s generation craves instant rewards. They stream songs on Spotify, watch videos on YouTube, order ebooks from Amazon, and binge movies on Netflix. Everything they want is at their fingertips. This need for immediate satisfaction clashes with the patience required to build lasting accomplishments or form strong bonds. In today’s fast-paced world, patience often feels out of place, even though it remains vital for nurturing deep relationships. Yet, modern culture pushes against it, making patience seem outdated.
I grew up waiting. I waited a whole week for the next episode of our favorite show—no VCR, no streaming, no TiVo. There was no binge-watching: One season, one episode, one week at a time. Cable TV and early streaming services like HBO and Cinemax chipped away at these shared experiences. That shift marked the start of Generation X’s cultural decline and gave us a glimpse of the future.
The terminology “Generation X” became part of public conversation thanks to Douglas Coupland, a Canadian journalist and novelist. He introduced it in a 1987 article for Vancouver Magazine and later popularised it through his 1991 novel, Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture. Coupland later explained that he borrowed the term from Paul Fussell1983 book, Class: A Guide Through the American Status System, where “X” referred to those who rejected societal pressures tied to wealth and status.
A defining difference between generations lies in upbringing. Generation Z and Millennials were raised by helicopter parents—overprotective and constantly hovering. These parents shielded their children from risks, managing every aspect of their lives and treating them like royalty.
Generation X grew up differently, often with absent parents. Many of us came home to empty houses. About forty percent were latchkey kids, carrying keys around our necks and waiting alone for parents to return from work. My slice of Generation X didn’t have the conveniences later generations enjoyed: microwaves, DVDs, or video game consoles. I ate a lot of toast, cereal, and PBJ sandwiches. The one thing we had that no kids have had since Generation X was freedom.
Without supervision, we learned how to manage our time. We solved problems alone, built routines, and shaped our days out of necessity. Independence was not an option. There were no participation trophies or constant praise; we got things done because no one else would.
This independence came from two major shifts: the rise in divorces and the growth of dual-earner families. Divorce rates jumped from 3.5 per 1,000 people in 1970 to 5.3 per 1,000 by 1979, mainly due to no-fault divorce laws introduced in 1970. At the same time, dual-income families grew by 4.5 million between 1968 and 1978, a twenty-five percent increase. Fewer adults at home meant kids had to fend for themselves.
Generation X grew up learning self-reliance and independence. When we entered adulthood and the workforce, many of us rejected the hands-off parenting we experienced. Family time became sacred, and we pushed for work-life balance and greater efficiency at work to protect it. And the result? Generation Z and Millennials.
We were the last to have an authentic, unstructured childhood. It was messy, hands-on, and full of adventure. Our playgrounds were rusty contraptions with loose chains, steel pipes, and sharp gravel. We rode bikes without helmets, spent hours in the sun without sunblock, and breathed in second-hand smoke everywhere. We did not need warning labels to recognize danger—our bruises taught those lessons. Our scars became proof of what we endured. Without padded safety nets, we learned to balance, fall, and, most importantly, get back up.
This chaotic, unsupervised upbringing shaped a generation of resourceful adults. Failure was not something to avoid; it was how we learned. Solving problems without guidance became second nature. We thrived without needing constant validation, relying instead on grit and determination.
As a parent now, the contrast is stark. My daughter’s world is calculated and carefully monitored. Still, I encourage her to stumble and figure things out on her own, resilience can not be handed down. She won’t grow up in the world I did, and that is how it should be. Each generation carries forward some lessons and leaves others behind.
If I can pass down one thing from childhood, it’s the confidence to face challenges head-on. Falling isn’t the problem—it is the fear of losing that holds us back. Knowing how to get back up is the real lesson, and that is what I hope she learns.
2024© ElbyJames CC BY-SA
