The Next Generation’s Quiet Rebellion Against the Digital Deluge

In 2024, vinyl album sales in the United States topped 44 million units, outselling CDs for the third year in a row. Shutterstock

Commentary

When I speak with friends in their 60s and 70s, a common lament surfaces: “Kids today are glued to screens. They’re anxious, ungrounded, and they don’t know the value of real life.”

It can feel as though an uncrossable canyon has opened between generations. The nightly news amplifies that feeling with an endless stream of outrage, division, and doomscroll-worthy headlines. But step past the noise, and you’ll find a quieter story—one that should give every Baby Boomer real hope about the future.

In 2024, vinyl album sales in the United States topped 44 million units, outselling CDs for the third year in a row. That’s surprising in itself—but even more so when you learn that about half of those buyers were younger than 35. Gen Z and younger millennials, raised entirely on streaming, are lining up at record shops to purchase music that they can actually hold. Ask them why, and you’ll hear the same answers: “It feels real,” “I like the ritual,” “It helps me slow down.” In a world of infinite scroll and algorithmic distraction, they are seeking something tangible. Something grounded.

This isn’t an isolated trend. Young people are rediscovering independent bookstores. They’re hosting poetry nights. They’re journaling by hand. “Silent walking”—the act of walking with no music, no podcast, no phone—has taken off on TikTok, with more than 500,000 views under the hashtag. At first glance, it might look like nostalgia. But it’s more than that. It’s a quiet rebellion against overload. A way to take back control of their nervous systems.

Ironically, these are the very things that many baby boomers already value. Reading books. Cooking real food. Sitting on the porch. Walking just to think. It turns out that the generations aren’t so different—they’re just navigating life from opposite ends of a noisy digital storm.

Of course, the world has changed since boomers came of age. And it’s worth remembering how much harder that coming-of-age process has become. In the 1970s or ’80s, trying something at a party might leave you with a hangover. Today, that same act could be fatal. Fentanyl-laced pills are flooding the streets, disguised as everyday medications. In fact, fentanyl overdose is now the leading cause of death for Americans aged 18 to 45. Meanwhile, nearly every aspect of youth culture is shaped by a 24/7 internet—where attention spans average just 47 seconds before the next distraction hits. Even music has shifted. The top songs of past decades were filled with love, harmony, and hope. Today’s hits are darker, lonelier, and more explicit—echoing the internal state of a generation trying to survive in a fragmented world.

None of this means that the younger generation is weaker. It means that the battlefield has changed. Their struggles are more invisible, more constant, and more personal. That’s why the turn to analog—vinyl, books, walking, journaling—isn’t just charming. It’s strategic. It’s a return to tools that restore calm, presence, and clarity.

Rather than write off the younger generations, boomers have an opportunity to become their mentors—not with lectures or judgment, but with presence. Young people don’t need more content—they need connection. And who better to model that than those who remember what life felt like before the digital invasion?

So maybe invite a younger family member to listen to your favorite record. Read a chapter of a book together. Swap skills—ask them to explain a new app, and show them how to fix a loose doorknob or balance a checkbook. The more we engage across generations, the more we realize we’re craving the same things: meaning, stillness, purpose, and real conversation.

In 1969, Americans of all ages watched in awe as Neil Armstrong took that first step on the moon. That collective sense of wonder united a nation. Being Gen X myself, I wasn’t alive to witness that historic event, yet perhaps today’s moon-shot is more inward—a shared return to depth, focus, and faith in each other. And the good news is, it’s already happening. It’s just quieter than you might expect.

You’ll see it in the flicker of a record spinning. In a teenager staring at the sky instead of a screen. In a handwritten poem tucked into the back pocket of a worn thrift-store coat. Maybe we’re not as far apart as we think. Maybe we just need a slower, quieter way back to each other.

Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.