Modern Life Is Rubbish (Or Is It?)

The rubbish of modern life

Source: Creative Canvas / Pixabay

Modern Life Is Rubbish was the title of the 1993 studio album from Britpop Indie band Blur. It was the working title of my book You're Not My F*cking Mother: And other things Gen Z say in therapy (2024).¹ With the addition of the bracketed [Or is it?], "Modern Life Is Rubbish" was the title of my opening keynote at this year’s British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BCAP) Children, Young People and Families Conference, and now it’s the title of my new page here. In this, my first post for Psychology Today, I will explain why I’ve become attached to this phrase.

I love Blur, and so it’s inevitable that I’m influenced by their music. My previous book, Stop F*cking Nodding and other things 16-year-olds say in therapy (2022),² was always going to be called Stop F*cking Nodding; I had the title in mind long before I began writing the book. You’re Not My F*cking Mother came hot on its heels because I still had more to say about the contemporary themes that young adults bring to therapy. The themes I explore in both books include education and exam anxiety, social media and internet dating, peer and family relationships, privilege, race, religion, sex, drugs, gender, separation, loss, compliance and choice. In both books, I explore these themes of young adulthood in the wider context of contemporary society, just as I do in the therapy room. I consider things like post-Brexit Britain, the legacy of Covid and the pandemic lockdowns, war in Europe and the Middle East, the cost-of-living crisis, the climate crisis, the housing crisis and the concept of permacrisis, a portmanteau of permanent and crisis which seems to succinctly sum up modern life in a nutshell. In contemplating these themes, it’s easy to think that modern life is rubbish.

But, if we really believe that modern life is rubbish, how can we reconcile that belief with psychotherapy, which is about hope? How can we hold these two seemingly opposing views in mind simultaneously?

The final chapter of You’re Not My F*cking Mother is titled For Tomorrow, which is borrowed from the lead track on Modern Life Is Rubbish, with the lyrics:

He's a twentieth century boy/ With his hands on the rails/ Trying not to be sick again/ And holding on for tomorrow… So we hold each other tightly/ And we can wait until tomorrow.³

This is a sentiment echoed repeatedly in psychotherapy with young adults. Twenty-first century boys, girls, women and men are holding onto the metaphorical rails amid the rubbishness of modern life. They are trying not to be physically, psychologically or emotionally sick, as they wonder if they, or any of us, will make it to tomorrow and what that tomorrow will look like if we do. They are anxious about social inequality, climate change, global burning and flooding, poverty and pandemics, racism, violence against women and girls, homophobia and transphobia, exploitative porn, misogynistic media, non-consensual image-sharing, cyberbullying and war. But there’s also hope in the form of Black Lives Matter, The Everyday Sexism Project and Pride, ethical porn, intimacy coaches, body positivity, sexual freedom, freedom of speech, social media and access to world news and culture, mental health awareness, emotional literacy and a reduction in stigma. There are more opportunities than ever to live our best lives, celebrate and share.

We can’t restore factory settings on life, ourselves, the people with whom we interact, or the environments we inhabit, like we can on our smartphones; and anyway, what would be the point? If we erase our histories or yearn for a bygone age, we miss out on the learning that experience inevitably brings. I believe we should look to the past to prepare for the future – personally, intellectually, culturally and globally – so that we can better understand it through a here and now lens. The small changes we make today – in our homes, habits, relationships and minds – will have a big impact on our personal and collective tomorrows.

I don’t believe that modern life is rubbish per se; it’s just different. There are elements that are great, elements that are not so great and elements that are rubbish, but that’s the way it’s always been. The people I meet in therapy often come because something is rubbish, but not everything. I see it as my role to hold onto the hope while I help them to learn from past experiences, better understand the present and prepare for tomorrow.