Writing in today’s Guardian, Jeremy Seabrook provides a penetrating analysis of today’s youth and youth culture.
Parenting has come to mean, increasingly, supplying the money to
provide children with all the good things for which global markets
kindle an implacable desire. What is sometimes described, rather
benignly, as “pester-power” is recognition of this.A generation has grown, formed within, by and for the market rather
than by and for society. Many unpleasant developments over which the
government seeks to reassert its declining control – binge-drinking,
the “normalisation” of drugs, the cult of celebrity, the supremacy of
what money can buy, incivility, absence of respect, obesity, the
epidemic of sexually transmitted diseases – are by-products of
childhoods upon which a major determinant has been a market whose
values have been championed above dull politics, and which have,
accordingly, captivated the heart and imagination. (The obsession with
“hearts and minds” abroad ought, perhaps, to be directed to the
multiple alienations of home.)
My thoughts and the rest of the article after the jump.
I have been thinking a lot about the creation of new life stages -
teenager, young adult, empty-nester – in the context of my new book. It
seems to me Seabrook is onto something here. The idea of a long youth
unconnected to purpose has created a sort of drift for many. For a
time, some young people channeled this into politics or into
creativity, as many still do. But today market and consumer values have
become a main – if not the main – source of identity. The crisis of
institutions – schools, politics and corporations, even the family-
deepens this drift. I’m not nearly as gloomy as Seabrook however. Even
if his pattern is the dominant one, many, many young people are
developing far more productive life strategies. Young people I come
into contact with and work with today are much more enterprising and
entrepreneurial than their baby-boomer counterparts. They are able to
take initiative and establish things for themselves. Out of the
current period of restructuring and adaptation, I have no doubt new and
more progressive lifestyles and coping strategies will emerge – and the
creators of those strategies will be the young – precisely because they
are on the very front lines of change.
It is astonishing how the most obvious social wrongs and abuses can
remain “unknown” until acknowledged by power and authority. Despite
continuous news coverage, the unblinking vigilance of the camera, the
no-stone-unturned persistence of investigative journalism, the
unnoticed gains recognition only when it forces itself upon society,
which it sometimes does with great violence.So it has been with contemporary discussions on youth, its disaffection, misbehaviour
and alienation from a world that appears to offer it everything. Since
the socialising of children has become primarily another aspect of
marketing, the consequences of these developments ought to have been
subject to more searching scrutiny than they have received. When the
market rules, why should the young be castigated for living by the
rules of the market?While we have been busy bringing democracy to Iraq and other dark
corners of the world, there is growing disarticulation from the
democratic process in the lives of young people. The inner decay of
democracy has been replaced by the daily plebiscite of the market, in
which people vote with their feet; a version of popular participation
which contrasts with the apparently sterile immobile state of politics.A new generation has been shaped by experience, which has
transformed its sensibility and estranged it from a world in which the
power of the freely elected is supposed to hold sway.Education is obsessed with similar problems – how to keep pupils
involved and committed, how not to lose them to the lure of commerce
and its entertainments, which offer richer forms of instruction than
those offered by the state. Parents, too, perceive their waning social
power over children. They have been bypassed by markets, which appeal
over their heads, directly to the young.Parenting has come to mean, increasingly, supplying the money to
provide children with all the good things for which global markets
kindle an implacable desire. What is sometimes described, rather
benignly, as “pester-power” is recognition of this.A generation has grown, formed within, by and for the market rather
than by and for society. Many unpleasant developments over which the
government seeks to reassert its declining control – binge-drinking,
the “normalisation” of drugs, the cult of celebrity, the supremacy of
what money can buy, incivility, absence of respect, obesity, the
epidemic of sexually transmitted diseases – are by-products of
childhoods upon which a major determinant has been a market whose
values have been championed above dull politics, and which have,
accordingly, captivated the heart and imagination. (The obsession with
“hearts and minds” abroad ought, perhaps, to be directed to the
multiple alienations of home.)A peer-driven market culture is the primary source of identity, not
being rooted in place, function or purpose, factors which shaped an
earlier generation.In this new social order, there is only one thing worse than
domination by the market, and that is exclusion from it, since there is
now no other source of knowing who we are.The market, whatever its emancipatory potential, also brings in its
train some strange pathologies, not least of which is the angry
resourceless state of those. The means to participate are, arbitrarily,
it seems to them, withheld.This should really come as no great surprise. After all, in the
first industrial era, the capitalist labour market created a different
kind of humanity out of the wasting peasantry of an impoverished
countryside, as people streamed towards the new industrial towns of the
early 19th century. A different kind of human being, never before seen
in history, was born – the industrial worker, created by the
necessities of a national division of labour, which sent its children
into mills, mines, forges and manufactories, to learn there a cruel
pedagogy of survival.The 19th century was characterised by the works of intrepid social
explorers who ventured into darkest England to discover what kind of
alien, and possibly savage, beings inhabited the manufacturing
districts. Engels, Mayhew, Booth, Jack London and, in the 20th century,
George Orwell, tried to make sense of the strange and perverse
character of people whose lives had long ago forsaken the cycle of
seed-time and harvest, and had been remade by the harsh rhythms of
industrial discipline.In our time, the temper of industrial humanity has been dismantled,
no less thoroughly than that of an archaic peasantry in the late 18th
and early 19th centuries.The epic disturbance in our age has dissolved a national division of
labour, sent industrial work to distant countries, and left at a loss
people who had never doubted their function and reason for existence.
Unlike in the early industrial era, people have become richer at the
same time; and this has masked some of the more malign consequences.The political vacuum has been filled by identities provided by
consumer markets, in which people have searched for meaning, now that
the factories have been ploughed into the earth, the great workshop of
the world has fallen silent, its rusting machinery exported to distant
third world factories, its products outsourced to young factory women
in Mexico, Bangladesh or Indonesia.EP Thompson called his great book The Making of the English Working Class.
We have seen its undoing, and the reincarnation of the popular
sensibility in a form for which no collective name exists. Whatever it
is called, it represents a distinctive psychic structure from anything
that preceded it. This remaking is now a fait accompli.It remains the endeavour of conservatives of all stripes to restore
the status quo ante, to place the new kind of human being into a
familiar, recognisable and controllable context. This is impossible.The “post-industrial” reality of contemporary Britain is not
emancipated from industry, indeed, is even more deeply embedded within
it globally, for even basic necessities in daily use are brought in
from all over the world; but we look in vain if we seek continuities in
the politics that grew out of derelict pit-villages, wasted city
suburbs and provincial towns left high and dry by the extinction of the
labour they performed.Of the early industrial era, JL and Barbara Hammond
said “the labourer is not a citizen of this or that town but a hand of
this or that manufactory”. Today’s definition would be different – the
people are not citizens of this or that place, but are the dependents
of a global market. This change has the same irreversibility, a psyche
refashioned for other, perhaps equally alien, purposes as those which
drove people into the choice-less occupations of the industrial towns.It is a rare hypocrisy that promotes an unchanged politics, when
politicians themselves have sought so hard to supersede their own role
by preaching the supreme virtue of market values, and then repudiating
the consequences of the way these developments work themselves out in
the world.



