Communication for generation span

Something that a lot of parents, across many generations, have struggled with is how to communicate with their kids. I don’t know exactly how it was a century or five ago, but I can safely assume it has worsened over the last few decades. Our family and social structures have changed dramatically, and the rapid pace of technological advances has, of course, played a big part in that.

A generation span is the length of time during which a distinct group of people comes of age under roughly the same technological, social, and cultural conditions — before the next wave of change reshapes the world they inhabit.

I’d alternatively define it as:

The generation span is the range of ages within which people share common cultural reference points and can intuitively relate to one another.

This span used to be around 30–40 years. When we talk about millennials or Gen Z, we’re referring to a span of about 15 years. In practice, especially over the last decade, I’ve felt it’s much shorter. But for the purpose of this reflection, it doesn’t really matter whether it’s 5–10 years or 15–18.

In an earlier era of slower change, the journey experienced by a boy would be similar to the one experienced by his father (or a girl and her mother). They shared cultural mores; similar things held their appeal over the 20–30-year gap between them. In most cases, the son or daughter would follow a similar path to their parent.

But exposures changed over time. Cultural shifts accelerated — in education, living standards, icons, careers, and everything else. With this, the journeys people undertook began to diverge from those of their parents. What they learned, what was expected of them, and what appealed to them were no longer the same. Add to this the fact that generational age gaps widened, and suddenly you have a world where a person doesn’t quite relate to their parent, or vice versa.

It’s a familiar lament of middle age to claim that “the youth are lost” or “headed for hard times.” This is simply the widening of the generation span — people having different cultural bearings, struggling to relate or communicate across that divide. Shorter attention spans only make it harder.

It’s in this era that publishing content online can either widen the gap or bridge it. The pitfall of digital content is that it stays — etched forever, perhaps lost in the labyrinths of an algorithm, but still there if you look for it. In the moment, it may feel fleeting or cringe-worthy. The odds of it being cringe to your kid are, frankly, quite high. But what if it resurfaces decades later? Would they relate to it then? Even if not, might they feel more empathy — seeing the change in someone’s thoughts and way of thinking over time?

We already see this when we look at artists and athletes. A band changing its sound, an actor’s shift in style, an athlete’s reinvention — it can seem strange or desperate in the moment. It can even feel like betrayal from one vantage point. But in hindsight, looking at the arc of decades, it feels like evolution. Change in thought, in environment, or both. And distance gives us the neutrality to understand it, even if we don’t agree.

That same principle could apply to a parent-child relationship. As much as the growing years are full of friction, these digital diaries — these trails of thought — could bring them closer later in life.

Cringe today, love tomorrow.