Gen Z in Crisis Mode: Is It Humor or a Coping Mechanism?
On the surface, it reads as unbothered. Unshakable. Maybe even emotionally detached. But scratch beneath the jokes, and something much more complicated starts to show. The question isn't whether Gen Z is funny, they undeniably are. The real question is why that humor shows up most during moments of fear, tension, and global uncertainty.
The truth is, this is a generation that's been through it. They were raised in turbulence. Political uprisings weren't textbook history lessons; they were breaking news during lunch. Economic uncertainty isn't theoretical; it's the reason many of them started budgeting before they could drive. Add a global pandemic, climate collapse, nonstop wars, and a never-ending stream of bad news, and you begin to understand how emotional detachment became a survival skill.
But Gen Z didn't choose silence, they chose satire. They grew up watching Bassem Youssef and Abou Hafiza; they learned from the best and chose to turn fear into format. Their response to chaos isn't outrage or collapse, it's comedy. And while some might dismiss that as apathy, maybe it's actually strategy. Maybe humor is how they keep it together, maybe it's easier to laugh than admit just how much they've had to absorb and how early.
Still, there's a fine line between resilience and repression. Between being witty and being emotionally tapped out. At some point, the constant humor starts to feel like a collective avoidance response, a way of making pain small enough to post.
So is it coping? Is it cultural fluency? Is it just content creation under pressure? Whatever it is, one thing's clear: Gen Z isn't breaking down, they're building punchlines. And in this timeline, maybe that's what survival looks like. Do you agree?
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Egypt Independent
16-07-2025
- Egypt Independent
Why Donald Trump is facing doubts in the ‘manosphere'
Detroit CNN — Justin Centers fits the profile of many younger men who Justin Centers fits the profile of many younger men who helped power Donald Trump's political comeback last fall. He's a 21-year-old autoworker from the Detroit suburbs and was newly eligible to vote in presidential elections — a cross-section of traits Trump aggressively targeted in his bid to reclaim battlegrounds like Michigan. He's also a longtime fan of Theo Von, the shaggy-haired, free-wheeling comedian and podcast host whose viral interview with Trump last August signaled an emerging political shift among millennial and Gen Z men. Centers ultimately voted for Trump, and Von had a VIP seat at the inauguration. But in recent months, Von has expressed growing dissatisfaction with Trump's second stint in the White House — sentiments that were echoed by Centers outside Detroit's Fox Theatre as he waited to catch Von's stand-up tour. 'Completely being honest, I'm a little iffy now,' Centers said of the president. 'One of the things I primarily voted for was 'No new wars,' and unfortunately, that has been a big lie to my face. So, it's extremely disappointing to see that.' After losing men under 50 by double digits in 2020, Trump's campaign made a concerted push to reverse that trend. His outreach included appearances on podcasts and YouTube shows hosted by a growing universe of male comedians, pranksters, streamers and other right-leaning influencers who had cultivated large, loyal followings. The approach paid off and has already spawned copycats in both parties. Lately some of the most influential voices within the so-called manosphere have begun expressing concerns, if not outright regret, with Trump's return to Washington. Joe Rogan, who interviewed Trump on his top-rated podcast last October before endorsing him, recently called the new administration's immigration crackdown 'insane.' Von criticized Trump's bombing of Iran as a 'horrible idea,' saying it made the US look like it's 'working for Israel.' Billionaire X owner Elon Musk, once a prominent Trump ally and a key figure in reshaping the online media ecosystem, is now publicly warring with the president over the cost of his legislative agenda and promising to bankroll a third party. And comedian Andrew Schulz, a Trump supporter last year, told listeners of his 'Flagrant' podcast that the president was 'doing the exact opposite of everything I voted for.' Even unexpected corners of the manosphere have begun to show signs of revolt. Professional poker players, for example, have lashed out at Trump's 'big, beautiful bill' for changes in tax law that will require them to pay the government even when they lose money. 'You just really start to feel very disillusioned pretty quickly,' Von said in a recent podcast. Theo Von performs during Clusterfest in San Francisco on June 2, 2018. FilmMagic/Getty Images Warning signs At Von's recent Detroit show, Carhartt logos, camo and mullets mixed easily with A-frame hats, golf polos and tins of nicotine pouches. Plumes of vape periodically hovered over the audience. The crowd's overwhelmingly White complexion was a reoccurring source of material for the comedian. During a rollicking 90-minute set, Von didn't directly broach politics or Trump. But the conflicting feelings he has shared on his podcast were voiced by his fans, too. Steven Deuby, a 34-year-old mail carrier from Wayne County, scoffed at the price tag of Trump's massive tax cuts and spending package. 'Five trillion dollars? That's insane,' he said. But Deuby, an Army veteran, said he backed Trump's military moves to date and remained supportive of the president overall. 'There's stuff to criticize about Trump, but for the most part, I think he's doing much more important (stuff) than Joe Biden,' Deuby said. Walking up to the Fox Theatre in a Von T-shirt, Tyler Goldsmith said he understood the complaints from Von and others, but would give Trump the benefit of the doubt for now. 'When you go into your first year, you're not going to do what everybody wanted you to at the beginning, because there are going to be things that you have to retract on, that you have to take care of,' Goldsmith, a 32-year-old lawn-care business owner from Constantine in southwest Michigan. Polls midway through Trump's first year back in office suggest growing disapproval with his administration — and there are signs the shift is hitting these younger voters, too. A new CNN poll conducted by SSRS finds that among men younger than 35, 40% approve of the way Trump is handling his job now and 60% disapprove, significantly worse than Trump's ratings with older men. In February, 44% of men under 35 approved and 54% disapproved. But whether this disenchantment presents trouble for Republicans or creates an opening for Democrats remains to be seen. While the concerns that are animating Von and other online influencers may produce compelling podcast content, they are less likely to dictate how young men vote in future elections, said David Winston, a veteran Republican pollster. Economic factors like wages and inflation weighed heavily on the minds of many voters last fall and likely will moving forward, he said. 'When a voter has just gone a different direction, they're the ones that can go back the other way. They just made a decision and now they're going to see if that worked or it didn't work,' Winston said. 'The idea that they could bounce back to Democrats is certainly very possible. Having said that, they left for a reason.' Centers, for his part, voiced frustrations on several fronts. He's a recent Tesla owner concerned Trump's vendetta against electric vehicles will ultimately hurt his purchase. He's also an expecting father who is worried about having a family in an economic environment he doesn't believe is improving. Still, Centers said he was unlikely to change to vote Democrat. 'A lot of stuff I identify with falls along the conservative agenda,' he said. Anger over Epstein White House advisers have long held concerns that many voters who helped elect Trump in November — including young men — are at risk of skipping a midterm election when he isn't on the ballot. Motivating those voters has been a top priority for Trump's political team as it seeks to maintain control of Congress. Mark Mitchell, the top pollster for the conservative-leaning Rasmussen Reports, has publicly warned that the Trump's coalition could be fractured by his administration's handling of the Jeffrey Epstein case, a longtime fixation for Rogan and other right-leaning podcasters favored by men. The Department of Justice concluded last week the accused sex trafficker killed himself in prison and did not keep a list of elite and high-profile clients, sparking outrage from MAGA conspiracists who had long been told otherwise by many in Trump's orbit. The CNN poll found 65 percent of men younger than 35 are dissatisfied with the amount of information the federal government has released about the Epstein case, while just 10% are satisfied. That's higher than the share of dissatisfied among the general population. 'What is enraging people right now is it's insulting our intelligence,' Schulz said on his podcast last week. On Saturday, Trump urged his supporters to move on from their Epstein outrage in a lengthy social media post — a message that landed poorly among some of Von's fans. 'You said you were going to show us (the Epstein files), now you're just being the very thing you said you were going to end,' said Ben, a chemical worker from Battle Creek, Michigan, who asked CNN not to use his last name. 'Not as transparent as what I thought.' He said Trump's posture on Epstein was the final straw. If he could go back, 'maybe I just wouldn't vote,' he said. Democrats wade in Amid the discontent, Democrats have sought to make inroads into the manosphere. Former Transportation Secretary and potential 2028 contender Pete Buttigieg appeared earlier this year on 'Flagrant.' Multiple outlets reported that Rogan recently interviewed Texas state Rep. James Talarico, a rising Democratic star considering a Senate bid. Von recently spoke at length with Rep. Ro Khanna, the progressive Democrat from California, and revealed he planned to chat with Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, the Democratic nominee for vice president in 2024, before a scheduling conflict postponed their conversation. (He also released an episode with Rep. Thomas Massie, a Kentucky Republican whom Trump has threatened to help defeat.) Schulz recently suggested democratic socialists like Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders appear to be prioritizing America more than Trump. 'If MAGA wants to take this 'America First' thing back, they got to start looking out for America,' he said. Giving airtime to politicians across the spectrum isn't just a pivot from the Trump-centric content of the previous election cycle. Many of the most prominent male influencers dub themselves as independent thinkers unbeholden to either party. Regardless, Nathan Sheldon, a 35-year-old from Northville, Michigan, sporting a 'Don't Tread on Comedy' shirt at Von's show, told CNN he appreciated hearing from Democrats in full, unfiltered interviews. 'Them going on to platforms like Schulz and Rogan, I can finally hear some ideas,' Sheldon said. 'They're starting to stand out.' CNN's Jennifer Agiesta contributed to this report.
CairoScene
20-06-2025
- CairoScene
Meet the TikToker Bringing Arab Dance-Offs to Pre-Party Rituals
Rama Nazha's viral videos turn bathroom dance-offs into masterclasses, introducing her friends, and the world, to the irresistible sounds of Arab music. When Rama Nazha's TikToks first appeared on my For You page, it felt like an algorithmic stroke of luck. At the time, I was caught in a kind of cultural limbo - missing the pace and familiarity of London while basking in the warmth and rhythm of the Arab world. Her videos seemed to fuse the two worlds effortlessly: London edge with unmistakable Arab flair. I knew I had to reach out and chat to her about her newfound fame, teaching the world not only about Arab music, but how to dance to it. With energy so inviting, you can binge watch her videos, with a pre-drink in hand, and just by watching it you feel a part of girls night. You've probably seen her videos. A brightly lit bathroom, a killer Arab track, and a group of girls getting ready like they're about to headline Coachella. But behind the camera? A cultural mixtape - Syria, Lebanon, and London all in perfect sync, and has already hooked 80,000 listeners. Nazha was born in Syria and moved to Lebanon in 2011, at the height of the war. Her path then took her to the University of Surrey, and eventually to London - 'Hampshire wasn't the vibe,' she laughed. She studied media and communications, which, looking at her page now, feels almost prophetic. While her mother plugged her into niche Arab sounds from day one, it wasn't until Nazha landed in London, almost 20 years later, that she started to dance. It's what keeps her videos both grounded and global: 'They're this hybrid of Arab-coded, London-coded vibe which so many people can relate to part of it, but then they also want to know the other part.' It's like she's crafted a cultural remix that feels familiar enough to pull you in, but fresh enough to make you want to stick around and learn more moves. Long before the title 'Arab-pop ambassador of TikTok', there was just a girl, a mirror, and a great playlist. 'I used to post a lot with Arab music. People kept commenting, 'your music taste is wild,' or 'what even is this, I need more.' So one day, my friend was getting ready in my bathroom, I put on a playlist, and I thought - let's just film it.' That spontaneous video? It exploded. Since then, Nazha's account has become a safe space for Arabic music lovers and curious ears alike. She didn't set out to be a cultural conduit, but that's exactly what's happened. 'People from the US, Canada, and South America are DMing me, 'I don't understand the lyrics, but I need this playlist.' Or asking me to write song names in English letters.' And Arab artists are noticing too. Saint Levant, Eliana, and others have already shown love. She confessed all too casually that, 'Saint Levant loves the videos, he is so sweet, an angel'. I asked her what the next iteration might look like - kitchen dance-offs, maybe even some balcony serenades. She didn't hesitate, 'Absolutely,' she grins. 'I've already dragged the girls to an Arab night here in London. We had the coin belts out, my friend was cooking - it was a whole thing.' The point is clear: you don't need to be in a traditional Arab setting to move to the music. Culture, for Rama, isn't confined to geography or decor. It lives just as loudly in a Hackney flat with tea brewing in the kettle as it does at a wedding in Beirut. Music is the one language that knows no borders, and Rama's the stamp that proves it. What was once a personal ritual, like the Henna nights she watched growing up in Syria, is now a universal one. 'Those nights were everything. All the aunties, the music, the dancing, the getting ready. I wanted that here, but I didn't have a big group of Arab girlfriends.' So, she made her own community. Her friends may not speak Arabic, but they dance like they do. With playlists called 'Introducing my bestie to my fave Arabic songs' and 'THE Arabic playlist,' which feature artists from Eliana to Umm Kulthum and have over 13,000 likes, it's clear Rama isn't just curating music - she's curating a movement. Upon my eventual return to London, I'm at peace now I know that an Arab night is right around the corner - because thanks to people like Rama, diaspora isn't a distance, it's a playlist.
Identity
16-06-2025
- Identity
Gen Z in Crisis Mode: Is It Humor or a Coping Mechanism?
No generation has made global panic look as casual or as entertaining as Gen Z. While the world is turning upside down, they're busy making TikToks, tweeting through existential dread, and turning every crisis into a perfectly timed punchline. It's oddly impressive. Emotional collapse? A meme. Recession? A viral sound. War headlines? A slideshow with a blurry photo and a darkly funny caption. It's like they've turned coping into content. On the surface, it reads as unbothered. Unshakable. Maybe even emotionally detached. But scratch beneath the jokes, and something much more complicated starts to show. The question isn't whether Gen Z is funny, they undeniably are. The real question is why that humor shows up most during moments of fear, tension, and global uncertainty. The truth is, this is a generation that's been through it. They were raised in turbulence. Political uprisings weren't textbook history lessons; they were breaking news during lunch. Economic uncertainty isn't theoretical; it's the reason many of them started budgeting before they could drive. Add a global pandemic, climate collapse, nonstop wars, and a never-ending stream of bad news, and you begin to understand how emotional detachment became a survival skill. But Gen Z didn't choose silence, they chose satire. They grew up watching Bassem Youssef and Abou Hafiza; they learned from the best and chose to turn fear into format. Their response to chaos isn't outrage or collapse, it's comedy. And while some might dismiss that as apathy, maybe it's actually strategy. Maybe humor is how they keep it together, maybe it's easier to laugh than admit just how much they've had to absorb and how early. Still, there's a fine line between resilience and repression. Between being witty and being emotionally tapped out. At some point, the constant humor starts to feel like a collective avoidance response, a way of making pain small enough to post. So is it coping? Is it cultural fluency? Is it just content creation under pressure? Whatever it is, one thing's clear: Gen Z isn't breaking down, they're building punchlines. And in this timeline, maybe that's what survival looks like. Do you agree?
