The Boomer Truth Regime
Every era, it seems to me, operates under a specific truth regime – a set of normative assumptions that define the boundaries of thought and police the parameters of allowable opinion.
In the medieval era, for example, the dominant framework was the Great Chain of Being, with God at the apex and Satan at the nadir. Thoughts outside this structure were not just off-limits, but often quite literally unthinkable for most people.
However, history demonstrates that these regimes are not immutable. As institutions change, as discoveries are made, and as the spirit of the age shifts, the old ideas lose their power. People question them, and eventually, a new truth regime emerges, often coinciding with a revolution of the elites.
Truth regimes are always defended by the intellectual class, who act as the handmaidens of power, disseminating and controlling information to maintain the status quo. The questioning of a truth regime typically begins with renegade intellectuals capable of disrupting this flow with new signals. Initially persecuted as heretics, their ideas can gain traction, being picked up by artists and spread through culture. As these ideas penetrate institutions and reach more people, the old regime weakens, leading to its eventual replacement.
A significant revolution of elites occurred after World War II. The previous truth regime, grounded in notions like nation, duty, patriotism, and respect for the family, began to be seen as dangerous and old-fashioned. Renegade intellectuals in the 1950s and 1960s paved the way for a new regime. This "boomer truth regime" introduced a new ultimate good and a new ultimate evil.
The ultimate good became the concept of unlimited individual self-expression. This is embodied in the ideals of the 1960s, captured in songs like John Lennon's "God," where the belief is simply in "me, Yoko, and me". It represents a nihilistic worship of the self, as expressed by Patti Smith: "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine. My sins my own, they belong to me". This results in the deracinated individual, a person shorn of history, culture, and religion, a "new man for a new age," living solely for self-expression. In my opinion, we are witnessing the logical progression of a society built on this idea as its ultimate moral good.
The ultimate evil in this truth regime, as I see it, points back to its mythical origins in World War II. The narrative pits the "good, plucky British" and their American allies against the "evil Nazis," personified by Winston Churchill and Adolf Hitler respectively. In a moral system valuing individual self-expression, Hitler becomes a figure akin to Satan.
His creed, based on racial identity, in-group interests, suspicion and persecution of outsiders, a view of man as predator or prey, and opposition to multiculturalism, moral relativism, and globalism, is deemed the very definition of evil within the boomer truth regime. It's crucial to grasp the implications: the left-wing within this regime champions the ultimate good of deracinated individual self-expression, while the right-wing defines itself by opposing the ultimate evil of Adolf Hitler and what he represents. This form of patriotism is one that declares, "we fought a war of good against evil" as defined by this regime.
This framework extends beyond to every conflict the West has been involved with since WW2. When George W. Bush declared a "war on terror," it was, from this perspective, a war waged by a supposed right-wing patriotism against the evil of Islamists. These Islamists were seen as evil precisely because, like Hitler, they opposed globalism and the view of humans as deracinated individuals freed from religion, history, and culture, living only for self-expression.
While this truth regime may have served the 1960s or even the 1990s, it now (in 2025) seems to be reaching the end of its lifespan. Intellectuals who challenge it are still treated as heretics, but their voices are becoming harder to silence. There are indications that a new truth regime, and another revolution of elites, is approaching.
How to smash the Boomer Truth Regime
Don't attack the boomer truth regime directly. For instance, trying to rehabilitate figures like Hitler is unproductive. Similarly, denigrating cultural symbols like The Beatles is unhelpful. These symbols are foundational to the boomer worldview and retain significant cultural power. Focusing on them can distract from important new truths by getting bogged down in historical details. Engaging in debates with historical experts about specifics from the 1940s or obscure cultural details is a waste of time.
The crucial task is to step over all of that. It is not useful in any way. What is far more important is to discover new symbols, new ways of expressing things, new forms through which we can rehabilitate concepts that the boomer truth regime has suppressed or rendered unthinkable. This requires a new language, stripped of historical baggage, a way of framing things that cannot be reduced to events of the 1940s. We need a new paradigm that leaves the old one shattered and toothless, reducing it to ashes in the dustbin of history. Once this is achieved, the mental trap of the boomer truth regime will be broken.
Examining older cultural artefacts through the lens of the boomer truth regime reveals stark contrasts in underlying values. Consider, for instance, a public service film from 1952 depicting life in a small community like Milwood. The film frames activities like milk and bread delivery as social cooperation, people doing things for each other through specialisation within the market process. It presents a positive vision of the market as the basis for community and civilisation, almost identical to the ideas of Ludwig von Mises at the time. However, the boomer perspective views such a system as oppressive – individuals are seen as slaves to the system, trapped by materialism, needing to free their minds. From a cynical Gen X viewpoint, the focus is immediately on profit, denying any altruistic motive, seeing self-interest as the sole driver. The Millennial perspective focuses on perceived structural oppression, noting the lack of diversity and assuming the town was built on exploitation, stolen land, and undeserved privilege. They express anger and resentment towards what appears to be a safe, prosperous community, questioning why this seemingly pleasant past must be seen as bad or even evil. This hostility stems from a belief in a narrative of progress that cannot admit that things might have been better in the past, that people might have been happier in small towns. The idea that things were actually good in 1952 seems almost unthinkable.
The Milwood film depicts a society where everyone seems at peace with their role in life, finding meaning and purpose in contributing to the community – the Milkman delivers milk, aspiring to nothing more than serving his community. This resembles Calvin's notion of the calling or finding one's place in a great chain of being, seen as natural and good. In stark contrast, the boomer truth regime mindset is one where virtually no one is happy with their lot, constantly striving for something more or seeking to escape their circumstances entirely. Excessive focus on social mobility and "equality of opportunity," often meaning pushing everyone towards professional careers while looking down on blue-collar work, has been, in my view, a negative consequence. This might explain Gen X cynicism (told they could achieve anything but facing disappointment) and Millennial anxiety (no certainty, taught to hate society's foundations).
Analysing texts from before the boomer truth regime's dominance, such as Madison Grant's "The Passing of the Great Race" (1916), highlights how fundamentally different earlier worldviews could be. Grant's book, associated with eugenics and admired by Hitler, represents the polar opposite worldview. He dismisses the belief in the power of environment and education to alter heredity, seeing it as a "fatuous belief" stemming from the "dogma of the Brotherhood of Man" derived from the French Revolution. He argues that external factors like speaking English or wearing certain clothes don't fundamentally change a person's inherent nature, drawing controversial parallels between different groups.
The boomer response ("we're all human, just one race"), the Gen X response (attempting to disprove the claim with data or framing differences as environmental), and the Millennial response (acknowledging racial identity but attributing differences to structural oppression and seeing Whiteness as uniquely evil) all react against Grant's biological essentialism, yet reveal different facets of the modern truth regime's understanding of identity. It is interesting that the Millennial viewpoint, by relying on an essentialized view of race to justify claims of structural oppression, paradoxically comes closest to Grant's fundamental idea that race is a real and distinct factor, albeit inverting his value judgment. They manage this, in my opinion, by creating a dual morality where Whiteness is inherently a power structure while non-Whiteness represents resistance, abstracting the problem to avoid confronting their own essentialism.
Grant also critiques democracy and universal suffrage, arguing they lead to the selection of the average man and increase the preponderance of "lower types," diminishing the influence of genius. He contrasts this with aristocracy or a true republic led by the wisest minority. This is another point of fundamental disagreement with the boomer truth regime. Reactions to this vary by generation: Boomers might dismiss it superficially by pointing to flaws in historical monarchies. Gen X might cynically accept that democracy produces poor leaders but deem Grant's alternative unrealistic or rooted in the past. Millennials might find it hard to process, as it critiques the very systems they often see as oppressive, potentially fixating only on the inherent "racism" as proof that the West was "born in sin".
Perhaps the most uncomfortable aspect of Grant's argument, and one I find most challenging to reconcile with modern sensibilities, is his suggestion that in some cases, individuals who were enslaved or in states of bondage might have been materially better off or even happier before emancipation. He draws on historical accounts, including interviews with former US slaves, some of which paint a less entirely negative picture than the dominant narrative, describing kindness from masters and the economic hardship faced after freedom. Grant uses the example of Hudson Bay Indians who became impoverished and self-destructive after gaining "freedom" from a paternalistic system. This raises the question: if poverty and addiction follow, is being "free" truly better?.
Boomer responses might be shallow ("getting drunk is freedom"). Gen X might rationalise it as the price of freedom, a tradeoff between security and liberty, perhaps asking cynically if one would choose prison (security) over freedom. Grant's appeal here is to a very old idea that "it's for your own good," related to the feudal concept of service – the idea that people might find fulfilment serving something greater than themselves. Studies on happiness show a decline as social bonds have broken, coinciding with increased freedom in certain eras, and a rise in "deaths of despair". Perhaps, in abolishing oppressive institutions, concepts like service, loyalty, and duty were also discarded, which may have previously provided people with greater safety and happiness.
Cultural products socialise generations into these different worldviews. Compare a 1960s children's show like "Trumpton" with a late 1980s show like "Raggy Dolls". "Trumpton" begins with the clock, representing a cosmic ordering of time and principles larger than any individual. It depicts a community where everyone has a role, defined by their social bond and relationship to the whole, respecting hierarchy and authority, finding purpose in being useful to fellow citizens – a vision of an ordered society. Even when disruption occurs, the community puts collective well-being first, and an outsider can be integrated by demonstrating trust and adherence to norms.
"Raggy Dolls," however, starts with a song that is an unmistakably boomer-ish paean to the self. It rejects external standards ("just a pretty face"), celebrates being "whoever you are" despite flaws, and encourages disregarding social norms and not fitting in. This is a near-perfect encapsulation of the "half-baked cod philosophy" at the core of the boomer truth regime, constantly repeating the message: "you're an individual, you're special, the things that make you you should be lauded". It promotes the boomer dream of diversity and individuality, often culminating in accepting flaws and celebrating oneself "no matter what".
Another pre-boomer film from 1949, examining a school disciplinary issue, highlights different attitudes towards responsibility and maturity. When a student carves a desk, the response from the headmaster and even the janitor is one of unambiguous personal responsibility. The student is expected to feel shame and guilt, seen as solely accountable for his actions – a reflection of a straightforward Protestant worldview. There is no question of external factors or blaming others. In contrast, the boomer, Gen X, and Millennial perspectives are prone to seeing structural or external factors as the cause. Gen X, shaped by relentless psychologizing, would look for underlying family issues or unresolved trauma, taught to blame parents or society. Boomers might find the strict approach oppressive, advocating for the child's freedom to act as they wish, seeing it as a "fascist" environment. Millennials might view the authority figure as part of a patriarchal structure enforcing "Bourgeois Protestant values".
The film also presents a clear message about acting your age and striving for emotional maturity, contrasting it with "infantile reactions". It implies a form of stoicism and self-control, rising above emotions. This is diametrically opposed to the advice often given within the boomer truth regime and its descendants, which encourages expressing emotions, not bottling them up, and essentially remaining an eternal adolescent. This modern view is a form of arrested development, teaching us to embrace the child within rather than leave childish things behind. We live in a culture that infantilises us. Perhaps, collectively, we have failed to act our age.
The origins of the boomers themselves and the environment that shaped them also shed light on the regime. The post-WWII era saw the rise of suburbs, partly as an escape from deteriorating inner cities affected by policies like rent control. Private developers built identical housing, creating car-dependent communities with malls. The Silent Generation (born 1928-1945), who moved to these suburbs, were generally compliant and cooperative, playing roles set by their parents, the Greatest Generation. This environment emphasised homogenisation, conformity, ease, and comfort.
The boomers, born into this, knew no other world. A key characteristic instilled early was a lack of consequences for actions; automated cleaning meant dropping ash wasn't a problem, and they were overprotected and indulged. They entered a "happy-go-spend" consumer world, marketed to directly as young adults and teenagers, fostering a sense of entitlement and narcissism. This plastic conformity, while later rebelled against, was also the source of their selfishness. Unlike Gen X, boomers were taught optimism, leading their dissatisfaction with conformity to manifest as naive idealism and the Hippie Movement. The Silent Generation, through art and culture, channelled their own rebellion and instilled this streak in their children, but ultimately appeased the establishment.
Later generations inherited aspects of this landscape. Gen X, coming of age in the 1970s, saw the pushing of taboos, mocking of religion, and hedonism. Their mindset, influenced by psychologizing media, became one of cynicism and detachment. Figures like Daria embodied this midwit tendency, reducing complex issues to psychological explanations or dismissing coordinated action as incompetence. This irony and lack of faith, in my view, led to a generation that was weak, cowardly, and indecisive, easily overshadowed by boomers and millennials.
Millennials, often labelled the "me me me generation," inherited the narcissism and entitlement of the boomers, combined with Gen X's insecurity. They are bombarded with self-help culture telling them to embrace themselves "just the way you are," creating a facade of self-love that masks deep insecurity and vacuousness. Manipulative marketing messages contribute to their feeling of conflict and lack of purpose. Unlike Gen X, who felt they could never amount to anything, millennials feel they can do anything, but are told not to judge themselves or strive for objective standards, leading to insecurity masked by entitlement.
Generation Z, or Zoomers, grew up in a decentered, online culture, leading to deep knowledge in niche areas but a lack of broad cultural grounding. Superficially cynical like Gen X ("cringe"), they lack the grounding for irony and use the term as a defense mechanism. They search for a center, sometimes oscillating between extremes. They show a certain creativity and playfulness lacking in millennials and are likely to form a cultural resistance to whatever hegemony the millennials attempt to impose.
In conclusion, the boomer truth regime, emerging after WWII, fundamentally reshaped Western society by prioritising unlimited individual self-expression as the ultimate good and defining evil through the lens of the WWII narrative and opposition to its core tenets. It fostered consumerism, entitlement, and a departure from older concepts of community, duty, and personal responsibility, leading to distinct characteristics and struggles in subsequent generations. Challenging it requires stepping outside its historical and symbolic framework to build a new language and paradigm.