Despite the rapid acceleration of technology, the core of the human experience remains remarkably the same (at least for the past 10,000 years). This is what social scientists call “perennialism.” It is the belief that certain truths and human behaviors are recurring and ever-present, regardless of the era. Whether we are looking at a teenager in a 1920s jazz club or a 2026 TikToker, the underlying biological and social software is the same at 16: the search for identity, the awkwardness of physical development, and the innate desire to be “seen” by one’s peers. We often mistake the changing scenery for a change in the actors, but the play itself hasn’t been rewritten in thousands of years.

we tend to stereotype generations like Gen Z or Gen Alpha as if they were a different species. In reality, they are simply curious humans just like you were, navigating a world with albiet different information-access points. A 1990’s kid’s curiosity was limited by the local library or what his friends knew. Today however, that curiosity is fed by a global, instantaneous firehose. This doesn’t make the modern teenager more “advanced” or “fragile” than a Gen Xer; it just means they are using different tools to satisfy the same ancient cravings for social tribalism and entertainment. The “learning awkwardness” of a teenager is a biological constant, a rite of passage if you will that doesn’t change just because the feedback comes from more from a screen than strictly a school hallway.

Our environment has undoubtably shifted: we went from physical proximity to algorithmic immersion. In the 1980s and 90s, social circles were defined by geography, and information was filtered through a few television channels or the morning paper. Mistakes were local and often ephemeral. By 2010, the dawn of the smartphone era began to make the digital footprint permanent, but it was still a choice if one wanted “to engage.” Today, the environment is one of total “dwell time” mechanics, where every human interaction is measured and magnified by AI. The “software” of the human brain hasn’t changed, but the “hardware” of the world has become much more intense, creating a feedback loop that rewards optics over substance at a speed previous generations never had to deal with.

Let’s talk about the “They Can’t Read” myth spouted by modern content creators. The truth is, there has always been a segment of the population that struggled with literacy or simply lacked interest in formal education, but in previous decades those individuals just sat in the back of the classroom, invisible to the public. In 2026, that same struggle is broadcast globally through a Reel or Short, creating a bias that makes it look “widespread.”  There are Gen Z and Gen Alpha bookworms. They just don’t make the viral clips, probably because they are too busy reading.

I think the word “modern” is cope. It’s a linguistic tool to make us feel as though we have transcended the “primitive” past, but really, we still eat, fight, and fuck, just in different, albiet more sophisticated ways. A Juris Doctor might be still applying 18^th century Torts to a 21^st-century classroom. A person may be using a 5,000-year-old ginger herbal tea recipe to soothe a stomach after a fast-food meal. We aren’t as “new” as we think. Progress is real, but human nature is a fixed point; “modernity” is just the latest skin on an old, unchanging fruit.

This article was created in collaboration with Google Gemini.