Our Attitudes Toward the Young May Need a Few Adjustments

More than a century ago, Käthe Kollwitz—a German expressionist artist whose prints and sculptural works depicted her outrage at the plight of women, children, and the working class, especially during wartime—said the following, toward the end of her life in 1945:

“It seems to me nowadays that the most important task for someone who is aging is to spread love and warmth whenever possible.”

I made a note of that quotation, which was highlighted as part of her show at MOMA last year. It’s time to let it sink in at a moment when the gulf between the young and old can feel more like a chasm.

My friends and I often share our exasperation with the phone addiction we witness on the streets of the city and, seemingly, everywhere else. We see it as exemplifying the younger generations’ puzzling need to remain connected with their friends at all times—friends who aren’t always real beyond social media. It’s as if their phones are extensions of their physical being. Maybe these devices have become realer and more essential than their bodies. Than the world around them.

We can also be exasperated by their scant, superficial knowledge of history, including the history we boomers have lived through. “Hey, we were there at the dawn of the civil rights movement and its transformative restructuring of American society,” we might insist, as if that kind of hectoring tone will cause the young to value what we have to say. Meanwhile, they continue to rely on movies and Instagram to fill in any gaps in their knowledge.

I’m judgmental, you’re judgmental

Cell phone addiction isn’t the exclusive domain of the young. Older adults can fall prey to this pernicious aspect of modern life as well. Sure, we’re outnumbered in this regard by Millennials, Gen Xers, and Zoomers (members of Gen Z), but still, as a multi-generational phenomenon, phone addiction has more to do with the design of these devices and with social media algorithms than it does with the ostensible moral failings of young people.

And their ignorance of history is nothing new in America. The country has been historically inclined to gloss over its own history, not to mention the history of the rest of the world, so why should we elders agonize over the continuation of that mindset in the 21^st century? Better to care about history ourselves and be willing to share what we know and remember with our younger counterparts. Interact with them. Listen to them. But there’s one thing we’d be well advised not to do: hold forth in agonizing detail. When I recall how it felt when my annoying relatives did that, I realize that I don’t want to be like them.

Back when, my parents and their friends made it clear that my taste in music and radical proclivities were at best incomprehensible and at worst abhorrent. But I wasn’t the sole target of their angry disapproval. I was a stand-in for an entire generation. We aroused their scorn, just as today’s young people experience the disdain of their elders.

Kollwitz redux

To spread love and warmth whenever possible? I wonder what she meant by “whenever possible”? When the mood strikes us? When it’s convenient? What if we ourselves feel marginalized in an ageist society? How much love and warmth can we be expected to spread under the circumstances?

I think Kollwitz was arguing for a willingness to nurture young people and empathize with their concerns, the way a mother might nurture her own children. If more of us did that, the results might ripple through our society, increasing trust and mutual care. Actually doing it, though, will require us to silence our judgmentality.

No way back

Sure, sometimes I wish we could all go back to the way things were before the digital age descended. I’d love to speak to a fellow human when seeking customer service, pay for my purchases at CVS with the help of a cashier, and shop in person at stores that train their staff to help us find what we need.

More importantly, I’d welcome the return of the real world in its many guises. Tangible objects, such as CDs and cameras. And in-person relationships at every level, from fleeting to neighborly to intimate. No more Amazon. No more data-gathering on a mass scale. If I were queen, I’d be tempted to mandate all this.

However, anyone who indulges in such a fantasy, including me, deserves to be labeled irrelevant and even, dare I say, silly. I see the wish itself as reactionary and even destructive; as nostalgia mixed with a willful disregard for the way society grows and changes, usually without our approval. Here, I’m referring to technology and the way it intersects with politics and culture. Should social media, and the internet tout court, be regulated? Yes. Resented and opposed outright? No.

…but one promising way forward

Toward the end of 2024, the Australian government passed a social media ban applying to children under age 16. But in a rejoinder published in Nature this week, Australian academic Marilyn Campbell advances the view that social media bans do more harm than good.

Campbell believes parents and caregivers can find ways to support children, with the government’s help. The first step, she says, is for parents to become social-media savvy, the better to make family decisions regarding how much social media exposure is best for their children while respecting their needs and preferences.

The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) has the right idea when it advocates for “family-based strategies,” she says, such as creating a “household social media plan, having parents watch the screen with their children,” and agreeing to forgo technology at mealtimes. This last applies to every family member, not just the younger ones.

That all sounds warmer and more loving than the all-or-nothing ban enacted by the Australian government and the critical attitudes of some of us older adults right here in America.

I think Käthe Kollwitz would be right at home with the AAP’s recommendations.