If you squint, you might be able to call me Gen Z. August 1995: that’s at least a fringe case, no? “Millennial” is such a loaded term, anyway – associated with things like BuzzFeed, “girlboss” feminism, cringe internet memology (“doggo”), neo-folk music (Mumford & Sons) and a hyper-individualistic sense of politics. Given all the attendant baggage, not only have millennials hastened societal decline via their narcissism, but they also have bad taste – who would want to be part of that generational cohort?

It seems the only worse accusation would be “Gen Z”. They are maligned for a lot worse than poor aesthetic judgment and innate liberalism. The charge sheet against them is long: they are lazy, poorly socialised, they can’t read, they were bad at school, worse in the workplace, they hate democracy, they love labels, they are too sensitive, they use their phones too much, they have no friends and they are boring teetotaller prigs. Okay, fine: August 1995? Let’s call it Millennial.

I am thinking about this put-upon generation today as I have been watching a viral argument unravel on the internet (very Gen Z). It goes something like this: a recruiter posted a video on TikTok offering simple advice for any Gen Z in search of a job. Don’t bring an iced coffee to the interview, she said. Seems obvious. Seems so obvious, in fact, that I am........

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