The (double) generation gap

Three generations -Utah 2009

Assorted grandchildren -Withycombe, Mt Wilson NSW. Christmas 2009

We hear a lot about the generation gap, generally with reference to relations between teenagers and their parents. They are certainly a real problem, caused to some extent by bubbling hormones and biology – the urge of the younger generation to take over the world, which they KNOW their parents aren’t capable of managing properly. It’s exacerbated by the huge changes in information technology (mobile phones, e-mail, facebook and ‘the web’), with which the young are so much more comfortable than their elders and which shape their social lives to such a large extent

But spare a thought for the generation before the parents – the grandparents. Their family relationships can be difficult and their role in the family – if it exists as a unit – unclear. There are all sorts of reasons for this. If you could go back in time, to periods in our prehistory that are largely lost in the mist of ages, but are actually not that long ago in terms of the history of humankind and the evolution of cultural patterns and behaviour, you would find social systems very different from the fluid and rather amorphous interactions that characterise modern (western) societies. Humans have been around in much the same physical form we see now (allowing for large differences caused by nutrition) for around 100,000 years. Throughout much of that period we lived in small groups that followed the same life-style for generation after generation: hunter-gatherers whose lives were dominated by the seasons and the availability of food. It’s safe to assume that, in these groups, anyone who survived to old age – which was probably quite young in our terms – was revered for their experience and (in some cases) wisdom. As their physical abilities declined they would have been able to contribute to their societies in all sorts of ways and would have been respected accordingly. (However, there was also a ‘down’ side: in some societies, if times were hard, the elderly were left to die – inarguably a pragmatic solution, although perhaps unpalatable to some modern sensitivities.)

In more recent historical times, family bands and small communities remained strong and the old were generally respected and valued as the repositories of community knowledge and folklore. In some cultures they still are, but as printed matter became more and more widely available in much of the (so called) civilized world, following the invention of the printing press in Europe in about 1450, and the advent of printed books, the information available and accessible to people increased rapidly. By the 17^th century novels and story books, technical literature and political pamphlets, as well as commentaries on the Bible and religious matters, were becoming commonplace – at least in Europe. Newspapers and magazines appeared in the 18^th century and by the 19^th century literacy was sufficiently widespread to create a market for a cheap press in Europe and north America (these remarks don’t apply to most of Africa). So, in those countries, people no longer relied on word-of-mouth and the knowledge of the aged for information; there was far more of that available than even the wisest grandparents could provide. And nowadays, of course, with vast libraries available for a few computer keystrokes – a technology that many of the old manage with difficulty, if at all – the redundancy of the old as sources of knowledge is complete.

But it isn’t just the loss of their role as repositories of knowledge that has made grandparents redundant; it’s the fluid and mobile pattern of modern life. Young people move away from home and end up, after marriage or the establishment of stable ‘partner’ relationships, living away from the parental home, in another city or, not infrequently, another country.  Of course this has always happened, but it’s now the norm rather than the exception (I don’t have statistical support for this assertion, but would be prepared to bet heavily that it’s correct), so many grandchildren grow up without the day-to-day contact with grandparents that help cement relationships. For families to get together requires an effort, an occasion. Some parents – probably particularly those who had happy childhoods and retain deep and genuine love for their own parents – make the effort as often as they can and work on maintaining at least affectionate relationships between their children and the grandparents. In other cases it’s all too hard, life is too busy and, if truth be told, it just isn’t worth the effort, so grandparents are left to live out their lives with infrequent and superficial contact with the children of their offspring. And, on the occasions they meet, those children, when they are young, are simply bemused when they do are told to show affection to these old and apparently irrelevant people whom they hardly know.

The situation may be made worse if grandparents can’t refrain from comment when they are witness to behaviour that, in their youth, would have brought swift and severe disciplinary action but which, for their children’s offspring, brings only a mild reprimand or some sort of negotiated agreement. Grandparently intervention is seldom appreciated by either of the other generations. As grandchildren mature, through the ‘terrible twos’ to rambunctious 8-10 year olds, and then teenagers, there’s a reasonable chance they will acquire at least a veneer of civilisation and good manners, perhaps enough to realise that the essence of successful human relationships lies in concern for the well-being of others. This translates - for those aware enough to see it, even subconsciously – into concern for the happiness of grandparents: which means being nice to them. Acting against such civilised instincts is the modern cult of individuality – the ‘me before everyone else’ syndrome. This, as it develops in teenagers under the influence of their subculture, may swamp basic humanitarian instincts towards kindness and consideration as well as the residual genetic bonds which, unsupported by cultural reinforcement, may not be significant factors in the second generation.

If we accept the selfish gene hypothesis – that virtually all the strategies adopted by biological organisms for the preservation of their species are aimed, ultimately, at the transmission into succeeding generations of the genetic material that defines the species – then there are no strong biological reasons for valuing grandparents. They have done their job: they have produced offspring that have survived and, in turn reproduced themselves. The genes continue on their way. Perhaps that’s the reason for the pride many grandparents take in their childrens’ children, even though those children carry only one quarter of the grandparents’ genes.

Culturally, the role and importance of grandparents is embedded in ancient stereotypes, no doubt deriving from epochs when the older members of groups and communities were important not only as sources of wisdom but also as child-minders and community leaders, providing the focal points who helped provide and maintain the identity, coherence and continuity of the group. Religious strictures to honour your father and mother – like the sixth commandment, said to have been given by God to Moses, and Muslim teachings based on the Quran (also said to be the word of God) – are undoubtedly derived from those epochs. The teachings are, arguably, simply formalisations of practical and useful arrangements that evolved over hundreds of generations, now elevated to the status of inarguable doctrines based on the unquestioned words of highly questionable concepts of god. Today, if grandparents continue to make a significant contribution to the survival and success of generations beyond that of their offspring, they reinforce the old cultural reasons for those doctrines.

Its’ not all bad, of course. There are many cases and situations where grandparents are indeed loved and honoured, where they can and do make useful contributions to the families of their children, relieving the pressures of modern life by child-minding, transport and, in some cases, financial contributions. Like successful marriages, it takes work, but it has to be worthwhile. As the old live, on average, longer and longer, their ability to contribute to their families, and society as a whole, emotionally as well as in practical ways, should not be allowed to go to waste. 

Can I remind you to look at http://threadsinthetapestry.blogspot.com/ for a few earlier efforts. (I'm still learning this package, so presentation consistency leaves a bit to be desired)


Go well 


Joe