American politics has become a tug-of-war between two generations. Boomers (and those older) dominate positions of power even as their capacity diminishes. Eighty-year-old Joe Biden has repeatedly displayed signs of frailty and confusion but, as far as we know, he’ll be running for re-election in 2024.
Over on Capitol Hill, eighty-one-year-old Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell continues to freeze during public remarks and ninety-year-old Dianne Feinstein faces calls to retire from within her own party. While mental impairment is no impediment to serving in the United States Senate — if anything, it’s probably an advantage — the upper house is older than it has ever been. The average age in the Senate today is sixty-five. There are eight serving senators who were born during Franklin Roosevelt’s administration.
Millennials frustrated by this gerontocracy want the boomers to shove off so their generation can take power and dramatically lower the median age in DC. New blood would be no bad thing but would going from rule by boomers to rule by millennials really be an improvement?
On the left, it would see leadership of the Democratic Party pass from the generation of acid, amnesty and abortion to the generation of privilege, pronouns and police abolition. On the right, the Republican torch would go from tax-cuts-for-Jesus Reaganbrains to Viktor Orbán fans who think they’re terribly edgy.
In the round, it would mean replacing the most coddled, entitled, insufferably certain generation in American history with the generation that comes a close second. Which brings me to my proposal for solving, if not all, then quite a lot of America’s problems: put Generation X in charge.
Gen X — those born between 1965 and 1980 — have the perfect political hinterland, forged in the fiery crucible of absolutely nothing. They had no war to protest, no draft to dodge. No counter-culture, no “Helter Skelter.” By the time they came of age, politics had escaped from the dread clutches of relevance and returned to its rightful place as the preserve of nerds, sociopaths, egomaniacs and other descriptions of Hillary Clinton.
Instinctively post-racial, mostly unfussed about private preferences, casually skeptical of authority, if Gen X has a political philosophy it is the great cause of not giving a fuck. Some might call them slackers but I consider them the chillest generation. The last to make a proper go of smoking, the last to do any drinking worth the name and the last to actually enjoy sex, which given the backdrop of AIDS is impressive. Besides, how can you not love a generation whose twin enthusiasms were cocaine and exercise?
Gen-Xers made careers for John Hughes and Cameron Crowe and Robert Zemeckis. They couldn’t get enough of watching their likenesses sliced up by summer-camp stalking psychos. They made hits of lowbrow sex comedies like Porky’s and Spring Break — and if you want to know why that’s super problematic, some joyless hall monitor called Melissa at VICE or the New Republic will explain in 1,000 breathless words.
They read Bret Easton Ellis and Salman Rushdie and Martin Amis — and Alice Walker, because someone had to. They Vogued and Walked Like An Egyptian and pretended to understand what Michael Stipe was on about. They found their sound in The Smiths and Tracy Chapman and Prince, and we’ll just gloss over the whole U2 thing. They started grunge bands in their parents’ garages and some of them ended up playing their music on MTV back when MTV played music.
Fine, Gen X is less buttoned up than the generation that came before and after. It has eclectic and easygoing tastes in popular culture. But are these really qualifications for running the world’s most powerful country? In a word, yes. In a Gen X word, duh.
Take the economy. There’s no better generation to lead on this than the one that falls smack-bang between boomers and millennials. The former entered a less competitive labor market, with fewer qualifications and those who did attend college paid a lot less for it.
They benefited from more job security, cheaper housing and a more active government, born into the economic stability fostered by the New Deal and coming into adulthood in time for the Great Society. Their grandchildren’s generation, in part because of boomers’ voting patterns in the Eighties and Nineties, came of age amid recession, precarity and pared back government.
Gen X understands both experiences, having shared in some of the boomer-era benefits while taking some of the hits that landed on millennials. They are well-placed to strike a balance between economic growth, competition and innovation, on the one hand, and economic security, social protection and an enabling state, on the other.
Ditto on another defining challenge, climate change. Gen Xers grew up appreciating the value of fossil fuels but also seeing their escalating impact on the planet. They are the ideal cohort to find a middle ground between carbon-clingers resistant to change and doom-mongering idealists who would shutter entire industries overnight. As for the culture wars, Gen X is the generation most likely to practice a laidback liberalism that says do what you want, think what you want, and say what you want, but you don’t get to decide what anyone else does, thinks or says.
There is an alternative to government of, by and for the nursing home and the dismal competing visions of those who would supplant the current order, with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s wokeocracy on the left and Vivek Ramaswamy’s neo-Trumpism on the right. Between boomers’ self-enrichment and millennials’ identity-obsessed illiberalism there is a generation that can lead America with cool heads. A generation that can fix some of the mistakes made by boomers and head off some that millennials are itching to make. Everybody wants to rule the world, according to a seminal band of the era, but only Gen Xers should be allowed to.
This is not a new concept. In 2017 Peter Weber wrote:
What would a Gen X president have to offer? You may still think of Generation X as the slackers from such ’90s classics as Singles, Reality Bites, and, well, Slackers. But that was then. Now, they’re the tough, no-nonsense former latchkey children. “Gen-X did not inherit the military structure of the Greatest Generation, the class structure of the Silent Generation, nor the automatic economic growth given to the baby boomers,” GOP consultant Brad Todd wrote in The Atlantic last year. “Instead, they inherited the latchkey kid autonomy that came from a skyrocketing divorce rate, and the adult career uncertainty ushered in by post-industrial economic transition.”
As a generation, Pew tells us, Gen X is politically about halfway between the more conservative boomers and the more liberal millennials — whether that’s a shifting-right-with-age phenomenon or something deeper is presumably to be determined. But it seems more complicated than simply occupying the political center. “It was Gen Xers who popularized the phrase ‘socially liberal, economically conservative,’” generational researcher David Rosen wrote at Politico in January 2016, “an ideological orientation reflecting their underlying distaste for authority.”
If that’s true — tax cuts and gay marriage? — it isn’t true for Gen X’s political footprint. The most powerful Xer, Paul Ryan, is socially conservative and economically very conservative. Ditto Ted Cruz, the Gen Xer who came closest to the presidency. If the Greatest Generation lived in the penumbra of FDR and the boomers in the brief-hot glow of JFK, Gen X grew up with Jimmy Carter — a proximate doppelgänger of Mister Rogers — and especially Ronald Reagan.
The Republican Gen Xers venerate Reagan, but they’re offering a purified version of Reaganism, sort of like the Gipper was a band and they’re going to play only his best albums, original vinyl, on their political turntables. They probably genuinely love trickle-down economics, but as a practical matter, this Reaganphilia makes political sense, too, because the Republican Party, and especially the part of it that votes in primaries, is older and more more conservative than the general public (and Gen X). …
The important difference between Gen X and its demographic older and younger siblings is in tone, though, not policy. It isn’t that Gen X doesn’t have its own aspirations, it’s just that, collectively, it has seen the limits of ideological windmill-tilting and moral preening and recognizes the value of pragmatism. “If generations could be said to have mottos,” Rosen argues at Politico, “Gen X’s would almost certainly be Nike’s omnipresent corporate slogan: Just Do It.”
Boomers had a dream; Gen X has its own dreams but what it really wants is a plan. It has mortgages and car payments and kids to put through college.
… the two main political parties being what they are, the best shot for achieving a Gen X America lies in compromise, finding common ground between a vibrant Gen X right and Gen X left. Real compromise used to happen in Washington — say, when Reagan worked with the Democratic-controlled Congress to pass major immigration and tax reform. It has been rarer since the boomers took over Washington in 1995, but it could happen again, if we can move past their decades-old ideological blood feuds. …
So, when the boomers finally retire (with their Social Security checks financed by Gen X and millennials), there’s a chance for a new politics in Washington. But for that to happen, Gen X needs good politicians. Trump’s last-gasp-boomer presidency is drawing candidates willing to take a leap of faith toward Congress in 2018, and so maybe that is when Gen X will gain a House majority. But the midterms are a year away, and Gen X is still Gen X.
“Though much derided, members of my generation turn out to be something like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca — we’ve seen everything and grown tired of history and all the fighting and so have opened our own little joint at the edge of the desert, the last outpost in a world gone mad, the last light in the last saloon on the darkest night of the year,” Rich Cohen writes in Vanity Fair. “There never were enough of us to demand the undivided attention of advertisers and hitmakers, we have been happy in our little joint, serving from can till can’t astride the Sahara. We have been witnesses, watching and recalling.
Being on the oldest end of Generation X and as someone suggested more than once to run for … something …

… I find this amusing on the eve of my high school’s 40th class reunion, as well as this 2022 piece from Ben Jacobs:
It’s a drowsy rainy Thursday at the Iowa State Capitol, and Iowa State Representative Cherielynn Westrich is speaking to a school group about how a bill becomes a law. The state Legislature is out of session, and only a handful of members are lazing about the chamber catching up on correspondence. Westrich, a petite cheery blonde, is just finishing up explaining how a lawmaker can summon a legislative page to their desk if they have a specific request to add to a bill. Her audience is a group of about two dozen middle school-aged kids seated on the floor in the back corner of the room.
Just then, another legislator, Steve Holt, interrupts with a smirk. It’s a school group from his district but he had left Westrich babysitting them for a few minutes. “You all know a fun fact about Rep. Westrich?” he asks. “She was in a famous rock band when she was young; you can find the videos on YouTube.”
Westrich then tries to explain her past to the school group of children too young to remember Kanye West at the VMAs, let alone the mid-90s alternative rock scene. “Well so, you guys know who Madonna is? Madonna signed my band to her record label, and we toured all around the world and got to play all the big coliseums like Madison Square Garden, and then we had videos — you guys know about MTV? — we had two of them, and you can still find them online from a long time ago back in the 1900s.”
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