The Plan by John Francis Kinsella
John Francis did not consider himself to be one of the baby-boom generation, he was born in February 1940, a little too early to have enjoyed some of the advantages of the early period of the consumer society. On the other hand his generation had never known a time when work was hard to come by. His generation saw credit as something almost shameful, not to be talked about. It was those who came a little after him who were the first to experience the full advantages of the consumer society, imported into Britain from America; a generation now accused by some of being the most selfish generation in history.
The generation reaching adulthood at the beginning of the second decade of the third millennium, owners of iPhones and such electronic marvels, would not be so lucky. They were faced with a crisis that would certainly be much more drawn out than politicians pretended. To make matters worse they were condemned for not being of the same the metal as those who had lived through the Great Depression, fought WWII, and survived the rigours of the post-war austerity.
Once a university degree had been the key to success, then suddenly, almost overnight that meant very little, especially when it came to finding a job. The prospect of unemployment, or underemployment, hung over the future of graduates like the Sword of Damocles, whose lives would be considerably more difficult than it had been for the generation their parents’.
Whose was the fault? Had the baby-boomers condemned their children by offering democracy and capitalism to Russia and China? Had they created expectations beyond the reach of their children in offering them access to higher education?
Francis certainly did not feel uncomfortable about being a member of his own generation. The hazards of history had played an important role. Those born in the years of austerity that followed WWI were not responsible for the Depression or Hitler’s war.
In retrospective, the late fifties-early sixties were seen as carefree years. Francis remembered them as years during which he and those like him had worked, with few holidays and tight budgets. National Service had ended leaving soldiery to the professionals, allowing those who had embarked on a career to progress. It was a time when Harold Macmillan, in 1957, had told Britons they had never had it so good, which was true—in comparison to the war years and the bleak austerity that had followed. Life in Britain at the time of Macmillan’s government was simple to say the least; bananas were hidden under the counter, kept only for the most favoured customers. Family cars were so rare Francis could play cricket with his pals in the middle of the Pimlico’s streets.
Compared to 2010, those were the good times, without the same material needs, with full employment, a guaranteed career…before jobs were exported to China by globalization, a process that left countless school leavers without the meanest hope of finding work.
Francis had grown-up under the shadow of the Soviet Union. When an enraged Khrushchev, backed by his massive nuclear arsenal, harangued the West by banging his shoe on the speaker’s rostrum of the United Nations Assembly in New York, he felt a shiver of fear like the majority of his contemporaries in the West.
The real consumer society came later, much later, in the mid-eighties when people could look to a future of ever-growing wealth, when the horn of plenty started to flow over. Not only that, but people lived longer, in better health, they were also better educated, enjoyed foreign holidays and discovered the world. Life became easier as the hard chores of the previous generation gradually disappeared with the appearance of washing machines, dish washers, microwave ovens, when modern designer kitchens became commonplace. People became better informed with the arrival of cable television and more recently Internet. What had been luxuries for the previous generation had become essential for families that thought nothing of owning two or more cars.
The crisis brought change. Suddenly higher education was no longer free and graduates were no longer guaranteed a job. A university education meant little or nothing for many and for the new generation the future was transformed into one of diminishing expectations.
Chapter 62 REAL CLUB DE TENIS
The generation reaching adulthood at the beginning of the second decade of the third millennium, owners of iPhones and such electronic marvels, would not be so lucky. They were faced with a crisis that would certainly be much more drawn out than politicians pretended. To make matters worse they were condemned for not being of the same the metal as those who had lived through the Great Depression, fought WWII, and survived the rigours of the post-war austerity.
Once a university degree had been the key to success, then suddenly, almost overnight that meant very little, especially when it came to finding a job. The prospect of unemployment, or underemployment, hung over the future of graduates like the Sword of Damocles, whose lives would be considerably more difficult than it had been for the generation their parents’.
Whose was the fault? Had the baby-boomers condemned their children by offering democracy and capitalism to Russia and China? Had they created expectations beyond the reach of their children in offering them access to higher education?
Francis certainly did not feel uncomfortable about being a member of his own generation. The hazards of history had played an important role. Those born in the years of austerity that followed WWI were not responsible for the Depression or Hitler’s war.
In retrospective, the late fifties-early sixties were seen as carefree years. Francis remembered them as years during which he and those like him had worked, with few holidays and tight budgets. National Service had ended leaving soldiery to the professionals, allowing those who had embarked on a career to progress. It was a time when Harold Macmillan, in 1957, had told Britons they had never had it so good, which was true—in comparison to the war years and the bleak austerity that had followed. Life in Britain at the time of Macmillan’s government was simple to say the least; bananas were hidden under the counter, kept only for the most favoured customers. Family cars were so rare Francis could play cricket with his pals in the middle of the Pimlico’s streets.
Compared to 2010, those were the good times, without the same material needs, with full employment, a guaranteed career…before jobs were exported to China by globalization, a process that left countless school leavers without the meanest hope of finding work.
Francis had grown-up under the shadow of the Soviet Union. When an enraged Khrushchev, backed by his massive nuclear arsenal, harangued the West by banging his shoe on the speaker’s rostrum of the United Nations Assembly in New York, he felt a shiver of fear like the majority of his contemporaries in the West.
The real consumer society came later, much later, in the mid-eighties when people could look to a future of ever-growing wealth, when the horn of plenty started to flow over. Not only that, but people lived longer, in better health, they were also better educated, enjoyed foreign holidays and discovered the world. Life became easier as the hard chores of the previous generation gradually disappeared with the appearance of washing machines, dish washers, microwave ovens, when modern designer kitchens became commonplace. People became better informed with the arrival of cable television and more recently Internet. What had been luxuries for the previous generation had become essential for families that thought nothing of owning two or more cars.
The crisis brought change. Suddenly higher education was no longer free and graduates were no longer guaranteed a job. A university education meant little or nothing for many and for the new generation the future was transformed into one of diminishing expectations.
Chapter 62 REAL CLUB DE TENIS