The Airbag Generation

Back in the 80s, a car was basically a metal box with an engine. If you hit something, you knew you hit it. There was no gentle poof of an airbag to catch you, no computer telling you to brake, no beep-beep warning because you were drifting out of your lane. You paid attention because you had no choice. Mistakes hurt, literally.

Now, a modern car can survive a crash better than most people can survive criticism. There’s an airbag for your knees, your head, your side, maybe even one for your self-esteem. The whole thing is designed to make you feel invincible. And we’ve done the exact same thing to life.

We’ve padded the world from every angle. Schools redesign tests so nobody “fails,” because apparently the word failure is offensive. Sports days have no winners and losers, just “participants,” because losing might dent little Timmy’s self-esteem. Workplaces replace honest feedback with “positive framing” so no one feels bad about doing a bad job. We’ve airbagged reality.

But here’s the cruel joke: the real world hasn’t changed. It’s still competitive. It’s still unfair. It still chews up people who think life owes them a soft landing. In the 80s, you knew you were in a dangerous machine, and you acted accordingly. Now, people think they can slam headfirst into the wall and walk away without a scratch, because so far, they’ve never been allowed to crash for real.

And while we’re at it, can we stop telling everyone they’re destined for greatness? They’re not. Not everyone will be a leader, a billionaire, or someone history will remember. Some will live small, quiet lives, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But selling the fantasy of inevitable greatness only makes the crash harder when reality kicks in. You don’t need to be extraordinary to live a good, meaningful life. You just need to be ready for the bumps in the road.

Look around. The moment someone faces real rejection, they collapse. The first setback? Total meltdown. No resilience, no grit, just outrage that the world didn’t deploy the airbag on time. We’ve traded strength for comfort, and comfort for fragility.

I’m not saying we should go back to when seatbelts were optional and life was a demolition derby. But maybe, just maybe, we could stop wrapping everyone in bubble wrap and start teaching them to actually drive. Because in life, just like in the 80s, you don’t get infinite airbags. Sometimes you crash. Sometimes it hurts. And that’s the point.

And honestly, did you ever hear your father or grandfather complain about life being hard? They didn’t have the luxury. Life was the road, full of potholes and blind turns, and you drove it as best you could. No one promised a smooth ride. They kept going, not because it was comfortable, but because quitting wasn’t an option.