As recently as the 1960s, Americans used first-person singular (“I”) and plural (“we”) pronouns in roughly equal proportions; by 2019, however, “I” had become twice as common as “we” in all forms of U.S. media. In her recent book, Generations, Jean Twenge explores some drivers of a rising tide of American self-absorption, which is most concentrated among younger cohorts, such as Millenials (b. 1980-1995) and Gen Z (b. 1995-2012).
Millennials are “generation me,” raised on self-esteem exercises and participation trophies, and notorious for their high view of themselves. By contrast, rates of anxiety and clinical depression have risen steadily among Gen Z for a decade, but, perhaps paradoxically, depression involves unhealthy self-fixation just as does narcissism. For Gen Z, self-absorption is less likely to manifest in a desire for praise and recognition than in psychic fragility and a felt need for “safety,” even from viewpoints they find objectionable.
The causes of these generational patterns are complex, but self-fixation of any sort is unlikely to lead to flourishing. In fact, people who are given a small sum to spend on others or are tasked with making someone else happy, on average, feel happier than those who are given money to spend on themselves or are told to try to make themselves happier. So too, volunteering is associated with improved health and greater happiness and meaning, while healthy sacrifices within marriage promote personal and relational well-being. (A great deal hangs on the qualifier “healthy,” however, in marriage as in other relationships: Caring deeply about others should not mean being a doormat or submitting to abuse.) In short, it really is “more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).
Reversing these enduring trends toward self-involvement will not be easy. Collapsing rates of marriage, births, and religious and civic participation mean that we have ever fewer occasions in daily life to submit to others’ needs and desires, even as many of us now increasingly inhabit virtual bubbles algorithmically insulated from inconvenient people and truths alike.
Those societal and generational challenges notwithstanding, all of us can choose to make more space for others in our lives. We can do this by giving generously of our time and money, to be sure, but another neglected resource we can share is our daily store of decisions. You make about 35,000 decisions each day: Why not yield some of them to others? The result might be a boost in your mental reserves — decision fatigue is real — and more importantly, a chance to extend kindness and experience genuine connection.
Try starting small: Invite your friend to pick the restaurant for your next lunch, or your spouse to choose your Saturday night movie. Even if you’d rather do the dishes in peace, let your kids play that obnoxious soundtrack on the Echo in your kitchen. You’ll trade some discretion over your schedule or a modicum of comfort for that blessed freedom that comes, not from “thinking less of yourself,” but simply from “thinking of yourself less.”
