Justin Langer: Generational tension not part of the discussion for the likes of these three gentlemen

“A new battle of the ages is brewing as Australia’s most tech-savvy, globally aware, and educated generation prepares to enter the workforce.” When revealing his predictions for 2025, futurist Ben Harmer described the latest generation in these words and tagged them as Generation Alpha. He said: “As Gen Alpha and their Generation Z predecessors took a bigger role in society and at work there would be friction. Generational tension is ‘inevitable’ as Generation Alpha join the jobs market, bringing with them a love of TikTok, a belief in inclusivity and flexible work, and a whole new set of expectations — and skills.” These are strong words, but they’re not unfamiliar. I’m not sure about you, but the same could have been written about every existing generation. Generational tension is certainly not unusual, and I must admit, in my research this week, I was fascinated by the labels of past and present generations and the tensions — or reminiscing — that exist. Let’s take a look. The Greatest Generation lived through the Great Depression and World War II. Known for extraordinary resilience and sacrifice, they built much of the modern economic and social infrastructure, valued hard work, discipline, and community, and survived extreme financial hardship and global conflict. In other words: Tough as bloody nails. The Silent Generation followed them. Born between world wars, they grew up during economic uncertainty and significant social change. Typically conformist and disciplined, they witnessed the early civil rights movements, worked traditional careers with loyalty to single employers, and were often described as “children that should be seen and not heard”. In other words: The good old days when life seemed so simple. Then there were the Baby Boomers, the population exploders. They lived through a time of massive social transformation, drove significant cultural and political changes, witnessed the first moon landing, civil rights movements, sexual revolution and enjoyed it as the first generation with widespread television access. In other words: The hippy, fun-loving, crazy crew era, of long browns, dancing and casks of wine. My mob, Generation X, witnessed the rise of personal computers and stepped into the world of internet access. Supposedly, we are proud of our independence and scepticism, and pioneered work-life balance concepts if such a thing existed. In other words: How dare we! Generation Y, or the Millennials, bridged the analogue and digital worlds; they have witnessed the rise of the internet and mobile technology. They’re the generation that watched the analogue world dissolve into pixels, who remember both cassette tapes and Spotify and crave meaningful careers. In other words: That sounds a bit ‘airy, fairy’ to my lot, but it is what it is. Gen Z came along and are considered the first true digital natives. They have grown up with social media and smartphones, making them more socially conscious and politically engaged. Diversity, inclusivity and social justice are high on their list of values. They’re the generation that looked at traditional career paths and said, ‘thanks, but no thanks’ creating YouTube empires from bedroom studios and turning side hustles into global movements. Conversation and relationships are fleeting. In other words: For crying out loud, get off your phone and do something outside for once. Now, I am hearing for the first time about Generation Alpha. Like every generation, Alpha children will be different. They won’t just use technology; they’ll breathe it. Climate change won’t be a distant concept but a lived reality. Artificial intelligence won’t be a scary unknown but a collaborative partner. Diversity won’t be a goal but their natural state of being. Young souls always look at the world and whisper, ‘we can do better’. They see the cracks in previous systems and dream of bridges. Technology accelerates their vision, social media amplifies their voices, global connectivity dissolves old barriers. And they couldn’t care less who they piss off in their pursuits. In other words: I wonder what the generations before the Aplhas will be saying about them? Greatest, silent, baby boomer, X, Y, Z, Alpha, I have learned that one thing should never be forgotten regardless of what generation you are born into. And that’s that simple values of humility, curiosity, passion, commitment, leadership, example, and selflessness transcend all ages and peer groups. Manners still matter, as does kindness and compassion — no matter what generation you are from— and the deaths of two sporting champions this week, and a celebration of another unsung hero, reinforced this to me. Neale Fraser and Ian Redpath were both recognised for their sporting prowess, character, and wonderful contribution to the lives of everyone they met. A tennis icon, Fraser leaves a legacy in the hearts of fans and players. He is a reminder of the beauty of tennis and the spirit of competition. Through it all, he epitomised a dedication to excellence, mentorship, and the love of the game. His career highlights are numerous and illustrious, but it was his integrity, good spirit and passion that he will always be remembered for. Generations of players were inspired by his leadership including John Newcombe, John Fitzgerald and Pat Cash. “He was like a father to me,” Cash reflected. “He just knew how to make you feel important and play your best.” Then there was Redpath, not necessarily as universally known as Fraser, but to those who had the pleasure of knowing him, he was a legend in the world of cricket and in the art of life. Tough as nails on the cricket field, gentle as a butterfly off it, “Redders” was loved by his family and friends. In his era of Lillee, Marsh and Chappell, he was admired as an opening batsman, but loved even more as a gentleman of the highest quality. Recognised as one of the great team players, Greg Chappell wrote of his former teammate this week: “Redders didn’t drink or smoke, but if we won a Test match, he would have a shandy and a cigarette to celebrate. All of us who played for Australia would have died for the baggy green cap, but along with Rod Marsh, Red would have killed for it.” In my world, such characters are treated as royalty because they bleed for their mates and country. This may not mean much to some, but to others, loyalty and mateship are the strongest of values. The unsung hero I was with on Wednesday night was Geoff Cattach, a man I have had the pleasure of knowing for over 25 years. In my role as patron of the Children’s Leukaemia and Cancer Research Foundation, Geoff has inspired me and so many who are devoted to the cause of saving children ‘s lives. For more than four decades he has been a beacon of hope and a driving force for positive change in Western Australia. As the chairman of the CLCRF since 1983, Geoff dedicated 44 years to transforming childhood cancer research, raising over an incredible $43 million to fund groundbreaking studies and initiatives. Recently, he stepped down as chairman and we were there on Wednesday to celebrate his immense contribution to a cause so close to his heart. He not only transformed childhood cancer research, but also inspired a legacy of compassion and resilience. His vision, dedication and service have been inspirational. Professor Fiona Stanley and Professor Jonathon Carapetis were there to lead the chorus of admirers on Wednesday night. Their tributes were glowing for an ordinary man who began the fight for childhood leukaemia more than 40 years ago as a tribute to his son. Reading The West’s article on Thursday about generational change and the friction it can cause, these three gentlemen, all in their 80s and 90s, reminded me that it doesn’t need to be like that. While each generation believes they’re unique, they’re part of a continuous human story of adaptation, challenge, and transformation. Beneath the differences, the core remains unchanged: we all want belonging, purpose, and the chance to matter, and we must follow fundamental values to live our best possible lives. Generations are not separate chapters, but a continuous, evolving story — sometimes dissonant, always connected, forever moving toward something more expansive, more compassionate. I am looking forward to seeing what lies ahead.