Happy Monday!

If you’re in the Northeast, I hope you’re staying safe and warm in this blizzard. If you’re looking for movies to watch on this snow day, may I suggest revisiting my list of essential films for the depressed and anxious 2010s teen?

As for today’s newsletter, I felt very inspired by Alysa Liu and the discourse around her approach to skating. I’ve always had a difficult time reading “generational wars” coverage, but especially Gen Z stories which I believe to be reductive. I was thinking about the contrast between Liu and the nostalgia for/resentment toward “millennial optimism” last year. Could it be true that Gen Z has no way of being optimistic? I actually think Liu, and some other young creatives, actively reject this idea. More on this below.

Also, in case you were wondering, I am being super annoying about my Bay Area pride after Liu’s gold medal win. Her swag is distinctly Bay Area native. Today is a good day to revisit my musings on the Bay Area’s pre-Tech Bro culture, which I think Liu was bred of. Anyways, enjoy today’s offering of thoughts 💋

Could it be possible that we are seeing a rise in Gen Z optimism? Perhaps, but let’s take a look back at how we got here.

There was a point last year where young people seemed fixated with the idea of “millennial optimism.” They were romanticizing an Obama-era hope, accentuated by Buzzfeed-style quirkiness and the sounds of “Daylight” by Matt and Kim.

Of course, it’s more complicated than that. Nostalgia makes everything look rosier and millennials have repeatedly reminded people that they were coming of age in the wake of the Great Recession. The struggle was real, but there was still a glimmer of hope about the future. Financial writer Chelsea Fagan, a millennial, called it “collective delusion” in an Instagram Reel, an illusion that has since dissipated.

For Gen Z, we do not have that overarching sense of hope. Instead, there is a belief that there is no path toward a stable future. As a result, many in this generation have an overwhelming sense of nihilism, which suggests that our lives are meaningless and nothing we do matters.

Nihilism is reflected in the way we spend money, the way we’ve been primed for online extremism, the way we’ve broken our faces for attention, and even the way we’ve picked cigarettes back up. If nothing matters, then why not take a gamble on some hardcore shit? The immediate reward might be high (and the crash might be worse). Zoomers are not typically known as risk takers, but it’s not really a risk if you have nothing in the first place. There’s only something to gain. 

I think there is a subset of Gen Z, at least among its icons, that flips this feeling into existentialism, which differs from nihilism in that it encourages us to find our life purpose despite a world of meaninglessness. I find this to be the essence of Gen Z’s optimism. It does not have a set sound or a look like millennial optimism, at least not yet. It is Alysa Liu, Addison Rae, Zara Larsson, Pinkpantheress, and everyone else with a distinct POV and guiding mission. It’s what Rae means when she says “effort is ritual” — making a routine of pursuing your dreams. It’s saying “fuck it, we ball.”

Gen Z optimism is simply the sentiment that we should just go for what we want — full send — because the consequences of doing so can’t outweigh the alternative. To put it simply: It just has to work out!

Zoomers are not under any delusions that there is a bright future to be had if we all just work hard. Rather, we find out what fulfills us, work towards a goal, and do it our way. People chafe at this in trend articles bemoaning Gen Z’s lack of commitment to work. However, most young people have an understanding that loyalty, following the rules, and accepting a workplace that undervalues them will not guarantee them a stable career. They would rather take the risk of quitting or underperforming because there’s always another job to be found and had, even with these unemployment numbers. But this one precious life? Why would I spend it miserable doing something for people who don’t care about me?

Instead, we have seen time and time again that following your passion and doing it authentically often pays off. I’ve been thinking about this because of all of the joy and celebration around Liu and her philosophy when it comes to skating. She returned to the Olympics after retiring at 16, on the condition that she would be able to skate how she wanted, break when she needed to, have creative input in her work, and not have restrictions on her diet. Now, she’s a gold medalist, giving us one of the most free and exhilarating skate routines in Olympic history. (She set the routine to “MacArthur Park” by Donna Summer, a fitting soundtrack to such a liberating performance.)

People have been discovering and sharing Liu’s interviews and comments about her process. Her remarks have fueled hopecore videos across social media, inspiring viewers to value learning and experience over results. If you live for the experience, people gleaned, you will always win. Liu told 60 Minutes earlier this year: “I love struggling, actually, it makes me feel alive.” What a refreshing approach in a world that insists on removing all inconvenience, that has bombarded us with dopamine rushes, and that has flooded us with ragebait to the point where we have become numb. Gen Z optimism, or perhaps it’s simply optimism in this age, is all about finding gratitude and joy in the hard moments.

The beauty of this era is that people want to receive something that feels real, no matter what that looks like. We saw this during the creator economy boom a few years ago, when people discovered that they could find success by being themselves and pursuing their niche interests. Similarly, we have seen middling pop divas who have “escaped the Khia Asylum” over the past few years by abandoning industry expectations and doing what feels authentic. These are the new rules of success. Step one: Listen to yourself. What do you want from life? Step two: Commit yourself completely.

“Frictionmaxxing” really is in this year and it has the potential to bring some magic back into the culture. A devotion to learning, to doing things your way even if it’s harder, is not something that comes naturally to many people, especially Gen Zers who have grown up in an environment that prioritizes optimization and efficiency. But this energy that I’ve seen from Liu and the people who aspire to be more like her makes me feel optimistic about where we could go from here, even if the future looks bleak. 

It all reminds me of the time when everyone believed Gen Z could save the world. Now that we know that we can’t, at least not singlehandedly, we are using that drive and purpose to change the things in our control, to care about other people, and to save ourselves from the pits of despair. This is significant at a time when the political and cultural environment pushes us to feel nothing and do nothing. If the struggle can make us feel alive, and bear some fruits, then we already win.

Every Monday letter gets a playlist. Inspired by Alysa Liu’s joyous gold medal skate to MacArthur Park, here are more big, emotional disco and dance pop bangers to feel alive to.

In this week’s playlist:

Other things I want to share with you.