A society of infantilized elderly people? It’s a terrifying thought

My young nephew, who works at a mid-sized company, recently declared he’d never hire Zoomers again.

Why not? I asked.

I don’t get them, he replied. I call to ask why someone didn’t show up for work, and they say they just weren’t in the mood.

My nephew isn’t alone. Forbes magazine recently explored this trend, revealing that many companies are rethinking their approach to employee age. It seems that knowledge of TikTok is often the only edge younger workers bring, while older generations offer reliability, responsibility, and clear thinking. Of course, this is a generalization, and being infantile doesn’t always mean acting like an overgrown teenager. Infantilism is a state of mind. Some schoolchildren take charge of their lives, while plenty of 50-year-olds still haven’t figured out their purpose in the world.

Zoomers, infantilized youth... You could dismiss them, but there’s a chilling aspect to this global phenomenon. I recently watched a lecture by a distinguished literary scholar, a seasoned educator far removed from politically correct platitudes. Though the lecture focused on literature, it naturally shifted to the growing infantilism among young people. Then the professor shared a haunting insight: youthful immaturity is only half the problem. These young people won’t always be healthy, vibrant, and supported by their parents’ money. Time will pass, they’ll age, their parents will be gone, their vitality will fade, illnesses will emerge, and their party venues will shift from nightclubs to clinic hallways. Instead of smoothies, they’ll be handed prescriptions for pills—but no one will prescribe a purpose for their existence.

Young or old, they’re convenient for those in power. They readily conform to what they’re told, with a built-in level of compliance that’s off the charts. Yet this creates a massive social problem. A generation of young and aging “unwanted children” will so deeply reshape society’s psychological profile that discussions of progress, meaning, and the stars will vanish entirely. A glimmer of hope lies with those who actively resist this creeping grayness. Such people still exist, and they’re captured in Richard Morgan’s words from Thirteen: We aren’t the variant, we’re the last true humans. It’s the cudlips that are the fucking twists…. Modern humans are fucking infantilized adolescent cutoffs. Is it any wonder they do what they’re told? … They tried to contain us. But we’ll beat that. We will, we’re fucking wired to beat it. We’re their last hope. We’re what’s going to rescue them from the Ortizes and the Nortons and the Roths. We’re the only thing that scares those people, because we won’t comply, we won’t stay infantile and go out and play nice in their plastic fucking world.