On my way home yesterday, I listened to Sky Ferreira’s 2013 hit Everything is Embarrassing. Although it is a song about romantic angst, I thought the title was a perfect encapsulation of my generation’s existential dread. Embarrassment is a normal feeling, but for Gen Z, we are the first generation to come of age with a permanent, digital record of our lives. Hyper-awareness of our digital footprint has created a constant state of collective surveillance over every wrong or “cringe” move. This fear of being “cringe” is a direct product of online cancel culture: a single mistake can be weaponized into a lifetime of infamy. So, what does any logical person do in this situation? We overthink every post and bold idea, deciding our lives based on what is least likely to earn mockery. A recent poll found that “55% of those surveyed said [the fear of being “cringe”] had stopped them from opening up emotionally,” which has devastating consequences. But, is it shameful to want to achieve our dreams? Is it embarrassing to try? The people we admire, like artists, entrepreneurs, or activists, are people who put themselves out there by accepting the possibility of failure and ridicule as the price of admission to greatness. Take Stephen King, for example. His manuscript for Carrie was not perfect on the first try. He was rejected by publishers 30 times before it became a hit. Being “cringe” and different is the birthplace of something greater—of genius. It is time to embrace your “cringe.” The world doesn’t need more polished (and ultimately dull) people. It needs dreamers who aren’t afraid to look a little foolish chasing their dreams; nothing is embarrassing about that.
By Angela Song
It is no secret that Gen Z values their freedom. Though liberty has always been an American trademark, the independence that Gen Z has zealously pursued is not one that our ancestors would recognize. Freedom was long cherished as a road to building a legacy, providing for a family, contributing to strong communities, and climbing up the economic ladder. In other words, independence was not a thing to be hoarded, but shared in pursuit of things greater than the self. Goals of marrying young, having children, and family loyalty have been swapped for complete self priority. Marriage is an obstacle to an impressive career, children are a burden on liberating lifestyles, and family obligation is a toxin to mental health. “Solomaxxing” is the new American dream, in tow with Gen Z’s love of seeing life in trend worthy terms. Just as “looksmaxxing,” another digitally bred philosophy, describes efforts to maximize personal attractiveness, “solomaxxing” milks a person’s single years as a paradigm of self-care rather than a temporary transition. A global survey found that 42% of adults aged 18 to 34 feel that relationships interfere with self-development. Meanwhile, around 30% of Gen Z and millennials say they do not intend to have children and only 45% of Gen Z women ages 18 to 34 express a definitive desire to have children. Needless to say, envisioning the future looks quite different for younger generations than for those in the past. Common within Gen Z is a palpable pessimism towards economic growth, upward mobility, and environmental stability. In many ways, this gloomy outlook is a rational reaction to a broken economic promise. It is not the precedent, but the coping mechanism that is now threatening this generation’s long-term well-being. With things like ownership seemingly out of reach, Gen Z has embraced the “buy now, pay later” model of spending, forsaking delayed gratification for immediate comfort. What may seem like scattered byproducts of collective circumstance is a unifying ideology– one that idolizes convenience and disdains sacrifice. One of the key characteristics distinguishing children from adults is the ability to delay gratification, giving up what you desire now for a greater reward later on. The sweet tooth of a child is unchecked until they learn the value of healthy eating and develop the capacity to give up endless ice cream for their long term benefit. But the sacrifice is only worth it if the reward is guaranteed. For Gen Z, the reward seems uncertain. Not only because achievements of ownership and financial stability sound farfetched, but because the threshold for a worthwhile sacrifice has changed. Barring exceptions of the truly impoverished, having children is not just a matter of whether they can afford, but whether they can provide a comfortable life for their children while still maintaining the lifestyle they want. The first question is responsible, the second is self-focused. Perhaps one of the greatest misconceptions in this growing philosophy is the belief that self-fulfillment is true fulfillment. Despite a thriving culture of self-help, life hacks, and therapy, today’s young adults are unhappier than ever before. People ages 15 to 24 in the West are statistically less happy than older generations, officially flipping the long standing “U-shaped curve” of life satisfaction where happiness was high in young adults, dipped in midlife, and rose again in retirement. The Global Flourishing study confirmed that Gen Z and younger millennials have the lowest self-reported well-being in the United States, with data indicating that a driving force behind this trend is a lack of purpose or belief that daily efforts matter. A life of self-focus was sold as empowerment, but has inadvertently shaped a generation bordering fatalism–efforts are wasted, sacrifice is futile, discomfort is a plague. Taking care of oneself contributes to a good life, but a good life is not lived only for the self. Having children, sacrificing time, energy, resources for the sake of others is core to self-improvement rather than merely a result of “being ready.” Gen Z’s fierce independence has forgotten the purpose of self-care, treating it as an end instead of a means to fulfillment. There is much our ancestors had wrong, but it is time to remember what they had right: true freedom is not meant to be hoarded, but shared in pursuit of something greater than the self.
By Mia Downing
The World Cup is supposed to be a sporting event for spectators from all cultures and countries of the world to have fun, free from politics and corruption (Wikimedia Commons). As the 2026 FIFA World Cup wraps up this month, significant allegations of corruption have emerged towards the governing body of the world’s favorite sport over several instances in its tournament this year. These include the influence of President Donald Trump in overturning Folarin Balogun’s red card, arbitrary travel bans on referees, and the prohibition of Lion and Sun Iranian Flags. But stories like these are by no means new; FIFA is notorious for improperly managing sports competitions, relationships with governments, and its billions of dollars. For an organization that claims to be apolitical and nonprofit, its history, going back decades, shows otherwise. The hosting rights of the World Cup have been awarded on several occasions to countries that were far from the most rosy tourist destinations at the time of hosting. Only four years after the inaugural soccer championship, 1934’s World Cup took place in Italy during its period of fascist rule under Benito Mussolini. The tournament was sponsored almost entirely by Mussolini’s government, which used it as propaganda for the dictator’s regime, distracting the public from its lack of respect for freedom of speech and democracy. Similarly, Argentina was allowed to host the tournament in 1978 despite also being under a ruthless dictatorship, which killed tens of thousands of political dissidents. In both of these tournaments, the conduct of the referees during the matches, combined with their unusual outcomes in their circumstances, prompted numerous allegations that the governments of those two countries tried to give their home teams unfair advantages, especially due to investigations of said incidents being blocked. Recently, Russia, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia have all been allowed to host the world’s soccer championship by FIFA despite all three being mired in authoritarianism and marked by poor treatment of laborers who built their stadiums. If a country is not safe to travel to on a normal vacation due to risk of arbitrary detention and imprisonment, it is odd that it would be chosen to host a sporting event that brings in millions of tourists in the span of only a few weeks. Even between World Cups, FIFA’s corruption has not gone unnoticed. In 2015, arrests of several high-profile members of the organization were arrested in Switzerland on charges of money laundering, racketeering, and wire fraud. But this was just the tip of the iceberg: as it turned out, these crimes had been going on for decades, ranging from partnering with ponzi schemers to covering up bribery that secured broadcasting and hosting rights of tournaments using illicit money channels. Because of FIFA President Gianni Infantino, who has been in charge of the organization during this and the past two world cups, investigations into these scandals have remained sparse, forcing outside organizations and even governments to conduct them instead. In a world increasingly divided by politics and plagued by crime, ordinary people deserve to enjoy the most widespread sport on the planet without having to think about either of those issues.
By Edward Kim
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