It is not only the Boomers who find themselves in the firing line of the younger generations.
The Boomers are simply the easiest target.
Most of them have already retired or are in the process of doing so. Many accumulated assets during decades when housing was affordable, debt was manageable, and economic growth still felt like something more than a nostalgic memory. They sit on houses, pensions, investments, and accumulated wealth. To younger generations struggling with stagnant wages and exploding living costs, they look like a fortress filled with treasure.
Naturally, there will be friction.
There always is when one group possesses something another group desperately wants.
But while the spotlight remains fixed on the Boomers, another generation finds itself in a far more uncomfortable position.
Generation X.
My generation.
We are caught in a trap that receives remarkably little attention.
Unlike the Boomers, we are not retired.
Unlike Millennials and Gen Z, we are no longer young.
We are the middle children of history once again, wedged between two much louder generations while carrying many of the costs and receiving few of the benefits.
Retirement is no longer some distant destination shimmering on the horizon. It is close enough to see. Close enough to plan for. Close enough to begin counting the years.
And yet every year it seems to move further away.
The age rises.
The conditions change.
The promises become softer, more conditional, more qualified.
The language remains optimistic, but the arithmetic grows increasingly hostile.
Many of us spent our entire working lives paying into systems that were presented as social contracts. Work hard. Pay your dues. Contribute faithfully. When your time comes, society will honor its side of the bargain.
A simple deal.
Elegant, even.
The problem is that simple deals only work when the numbers continue to cooperate.
The numbers no longer appear particularly cooperative.
Demographics are ugly.
Debt is ugly.
Economic growth is increasingly ugly.
The gap between promises made and resources available grows wider every year.
Yet most people continue marching forward like obedient automatons, hoping that some miracle will appear at the last moment.
A political miracle.
A technological miracle.
An economic miracle.
Any miracle.
The exact details hardly matter.
What matters is preserving the belief that someone, somewhere, will solve the problem before it reaches our doorstep.
I have my doubts.
Hope is not a strategy.
It never was.
That does not mean panic is the answer. Quite the opposite.
Panic is merely hope wearing a different costume.
The sensible response is reassessment.
Look at the world as it exists rather than as it was promised.
Look at incentives.
Look at demographics.
Look at public finances.
Look at the political reality of millions of retirees competing with millions of workers for shrinking resources.
Then ask uncomfortable questions.
What if retirement arrives later than expected?
What if benefits are lower than advertised?
What if inflation quietly consumes a significant portion of what was supposedly guaranteed?
What if the future looks less like the brochure and more like the fine print?
Generation X faces the worst combination of circumstances.
We paid into the system for decades.
We are close enough to retirement that major course corrections are painful.
Yet we are still far enough away that the rules can change before we arrive.
The Boomers largely collected the rewards.
The younger generations at least understand the game has changed.
Generation X occupies the awkward middle ground where many still behave as if the old promises remain intact while reality steadily dismantles them piece by piece.
That is not a comfortable position.
But comfort was never particularly abundant for Generation X.
We were the latchkey generation.
The generation that learned early not to expect too much supervision, too much assistance, or too much sympathy.
Perhaps those old lessons still have value.
Because the answer is not recklessness.
The answer is not rage.
The answer is not retreating into fantasy.
The answer is taking inventory.
Assessing risks honestly.
Building resilience where possible.
Reducing dependence where practical.
Creating options before they become necessary.
In short, doing what adults have always done when promises begin to look uncertain.
Preparing.
There may yet be a miracle.
History occasionally surprises us.
But betting your future on miracles is what gamblers do.
And if there is one lesson the last few decades have taught us, it is that hope is not a retirement plan.
That, more than anything else, is what Grimwright is about.