There was a time—not so very long ago—when the world was ablaze with optimism.
A time when the future gleamed with boundless possibilities, when success was earned through grit and determination, and when culture celebrated, rather than apologised for, human achievement.
That time was the 1980s and 1990s, and I thank my lucky stars that I got to grow up in the most exhilarating, meritocratic, and freedom-loving era in modern history.
Today, I can’t help but feel a twinge of sorrow for the youth of 2025, trapped in a world that has traded ambition for anxiety, excellence for appeasement, and adventure for algorithms.
Just look at the commercials of the time—those dazzling, pulse-quickening, turbo-charged masterpieces of aspiration. One of my favourites was the Can’t Beat the Feeling Coca-Cola ads, where impossibly happy young people laughed in the sun, singing, celebrating life, brimming with electric optimism. It wasn’t just a marketing slogan—it was a sign of the times. Life was fun, and it was meant to be lived.
Then there were the Gillette commercials, where men weren’t ashamed to be men, to strive, to win, to lead. “The Best a Man Can Get” wasn’t a snide joke—it was an unambiguous call to be strong, to be ambitious, to be powerful, to be manly.
These ads weren’t merely selling products; they were selling dreams, confidence, and the idea that you could be anything you wanted if you worked for it.
The culture was equally invigorating. Movies inspired, not lectured. Think of the pulse-racing heroism of Top Gun, the boundless adventure of Indiana Jones, the raw determination of Rocky. We watched Ferris Bueller and learned to seize the day, not to fear it. TV was a showcase of boundless ambition—whether it was the sharp wit of Yes, Minister or the funny go-get-em business acumen of Only Fools and Horses, it all reinforced the same message: work hard, dream big, make it happen.
And then, of course, there was comedy. People weren’t afraid to be funny. In fact, they revelled in it. The Brits, especially, ruled the world of humour—our comedy was sharp, fearless, and brilliantly irreverent. From the biting satire of Spitting Image to the peerless absurdity of Blackadder, we poked fun at everyone and everything, and the world was all the better for it. Fawlty Towers thrived on chaos, The Fast Show delivered punchlines at lightning speed, and The Two Ronnies proved that clever wordplay could bring down the house. No one walked on eggshells. The only crime was not being funny.
Compare that to today’s entertainment—dripping in cynicism, obsessed with victimhood, and terrified of offending the most fragile minds.
And let’s talk about real life. We actually lived it. We didn’t exist through screens, filtering every moment, fretting over likes, drowning in a digital world of synthetic validation.
We met our friends in person. We kicked footballs instead of doom-scrolling. We played outside until the streetlights came on, not because a health app reminded us to “get our steps in,” but because we were fuelled by an insatiable thirst for life.
Law and order prevailed. You knew where you stood. Men were men, women were women, and common sense wasn’t a controversial opinion. Schools taught subjects, not social activism. Universities actually encouraged debate and prepared you for the real world instead of sheltering you from it. And, crucially, meritocracy ruled. You weren’t defined by your “lived experience” or your “identity markers” but by your talent, your drive, your personality, skills and your ability to get the job done.
In the 80s and 90s, we were encouraged to aim for the stars; now, many young people are made to feel reaching up is oppressive, especially if you’re white and male.
The truth is the youth of today have been robbed of the raw, electrifying, high-octane thrill of real life that we once enjoyed. They live in a society of safetyism, a sanitised existence where risk is feared and achievement is suspect. Success is fleeting, often measured only by the number of likes on their last TikTok post.
They are told what they cannot say, cannot think, cannot aspire to. And the worst part? They’ve become conditioned and don’t even realise what they’re missing. They don’t understand that there is another way.
But all is not lost. There is still a chance for a great revival, for a renaissance of common sense, ambition, and courage.
Young people—if you are listening—break free. Step outside. Live large. Aspire to be the best you can be. Turn off the noise, reject the nihilism, abandon socialism, demand freedom and take back the spirit of adventure that once defined youth.
Because deep down, the truth is this: you can’t beat the feeling.
Claire Bullivant
Main Image: Coca Cola Advert from the 90s. Screengrab.
