Steven Nowicki, writing in Psychology Today, made a startling claim, saying his research shows that college students today feel less control over their lives than the average prisoner did in 1966.
What a provocative statement to make! To the extent that it is true — and that does appear to be the perspective of many experts — no wonder some young people, in desperation, are turning to charlatans like Donald Trump.
Lack of agency was the opposite of what we felt in the 60s: if anything, we had too much. For us, it seemed inevitable that a new day was dawning, as captured in the hit song of that era, “Aquarius,” which reflected the optimism and hope that characterized our 60s countercultural movement.
The song is full of references to the Age of Aquarius, an astrological concept that symbolizes a shift toward a more enlightened and harmonious future, which we felt was destined to fall into our laps, ushering in a world of love, peace and understanding.
It sounds so silly today to admit to such aspirations. It’s the polar opposite of what young people and many of us oldsters think today — that the world is going to hell in a handbasket.
It’s amazing how the state of our economy determines the attitude of an entire generation. Despite being cannon fodder in the Vietnam War, we didn’t forfeit our agency. Instead, we fought back!
A major chunk of our spunk came from being lucky enough to grow up cocooned in a stable, secure and abundant society. Manufacturing the vast numbers of armaments required to fight the war supercharged the economy.
When I returned from Vietnam in 1968, I could walk into almost any business and get a job. I rented an apartment in Portsmouth for $45/month, with a chandelier in the living room and a fireplace. I furnished it with beautiful oak furniture and a brass bed, bought for practically nothing at a second-hand store, because the current fad was cheap, mass-produced junk and plastic Melmac dishes.
Because our parents had to make their own way, they expected us to do the same. Psychologists now call that parenting style “benign neglect.” Because we had to manage our own dangers and day-to-day challenges, we learned to trust ourselves.
While our parents were frugal and materialistic to a fault, an attitude forged by enduring hard times, we yearned for the opposite because we were sheltered in the cocoon of security they provided.
The factors above fostered a distinct psychological landscape that encouraged us to believe in our own agency. Psychologists call this an internal locus of control. Conversely, the more we believe that outside forces determine our fate, the more “external” we are.
The cycle has reversed itself with Gen Z’s move toward externality. The reasons are many, as the professor has noted: “Recession, war, divisive politics, a rise in the use of technology, and a pandemic have combined to frighten, isolate, and perhaps make us feel more externally controlled.”
What’s a young person to do today? In 1981, the median age of a homebuyer was 31. Today, it is 59. Younger generations work longer hours and earn less (in real terms). They pay more for basic necessities while inheriting an economic and social crisis they did not create.
In the end, Nowicki thinks that Gen Z might be underestimating the control they have. After all, our locus of control isn’t determined by genetics; it is shaped by learned behavior. His studies show that while externality increases in response to disasters and hard times, “the danger is that victims might remain external even though they are no longer helpless.”
The youth today are not helpless. For the sake of our future, it is essential that they reclaim their agency, as we did in the 60s, by rebelling against an immoral war and an imperial presidency.
Nowicki agrees: “We need our internality because to be able to accurately connect one’s actions with future outcomes has enormous payoff in a democracy; in fact, it may be seen as the basic requirement for democracies not only to survive, but to thrive.”
To promote that, we need mentors like those we had in the 1960s, such as Joseph Campbell, best known for his work in mythology and religion, who gifted us with nuggets of wisdom like this:
“A bit of advice / Given to a young Native American / At the time of his initiation: / As you go the way of life, / You will see a great chasm. Jump. / It is not as wide as you think.”