Teen homogeneity and phone addiction spark debate in Spain

The adolescent uniformity that bothers those who grew up among subcultures

A group of fifteen boys and seven girls from high school, sitting in Plaza de Oriente listening to a teacher, triggered an uncomfortable observation: the fifteen guys had the same haircut, and the seven girls, the same long straight hair with sunglasses. None stood out. The scene, recounted by a user passing by on a bike, became the starting point for a broader discussion on whether today's youth has lost personality or if personality is simply expressed differently nowadays.

The user's initial diagnosis was blunt: "they are total sheep". A few meters away, another group of younger students, all with phones in hand, neither playing nor shouting, confirmed his perception. His conclusion was that youth is dumbed down and that European society has no solution. A bonus track closed the opening: a tripod with a phone planted in the middle of a crosswalk at Atocha, and a shout into the air that a passerby celebrated with laughter.

The trendy hairstyle as a symptom of homogenization

The majority reaction was agreement. Twenty years ago, when current writers were teenagers, there were jebis, rappers, kinkis, and pijos (Spanish urban tribes). There were differentiated groups, opposing aesthetics, and a conscious effort not to look like the person next to you. Today, the repeated diagnosis is that they are clones without personality, cut from the same pattern.

The complaint is not just aesthetic. It points out that uniformity also extends to leisure, music, and ways of relating. The musical references cited are the same for everyone, and when someone discovers a song from decades ago, it becomes a viral phenomenon because no one in their circle had heard it before. Variety of stimuli exists, but consumption is identical.

Some go further and argue that homogeneity is not an accident, but a structural trend. Society tends to equalize, and in a horizon of one hundred or two hundred years, the individual could be practically nullified in music, fashion, work, and even genetics. Dystopias that once seemed like fiction are being fulfilled more subtly, and stopping them would require a cultural revolution that seems improbable.

The mobile phone as a new collective pacifier

The second scene of the initial story—young students sitting, each with their screen, not interacting—concentrated much of the criticism. The image of the group looking at phones in silence was interpreted as a loss of childhood: no playing, laughing, shouting, or joking. The mobile appears as the new element that standardizes attention and replaces shared play.

The bonus track of the tripod at the crosswalk added another layer: the permanent recording of daily life as an activity in itself. The anecdote of the cyclist shouting his frustration and provoking the laughter of a pedestrian summarizes the discomfort of part of the population regarding what they perceive as an invasion of public space by cameras and screens.

The complaint extends to the bike lane. A cyclist equipped with a helmet and technical clothing, expected to accelerate, started manipulating the handlebars. It wasn't a GPS: it was the phone. The conclusion drawn is that even in an activity requiring attention, one does not give up the screen, and that the solution—stopping to talk—is not considered.

Those defending youth: more variety, not less

Not everyone shares the diagnosis. A minority but persistent current argues that there is more variety of everything now than thirty years ago, and that criticizing the present has become a generational sport. The nostalgic gaze on urban tribes ignores that those aesthetics were also uniform within each group: jebis dressed like jebis and pijos like pijos. The difference was not individual, it was tribal.

It is also argued that the urban tribes of the eighties and nineties were not a paradise of personality, but a huge mess in many aspects. Being a teenager today, without those rigid labels, might offer more freedom than then. Criticism of young people is read, from this perspective, as envy disguised as sociological analysis.

The discussion drifted toward the role of family and role models. It is pointed out that many adolescents come home with no one to listen to them, with parents working late, and that the lack of adult models—not hairstyles—is the underlying problem. Prepared snacks and conversation with mothers are cited as memories that do not always have an equivalent today.

The generational gap and mutual contempt

The tone of the exchange heated up. Part of the messages was dedicated to disqualifying older people who criticize the young, and another part to disqualifying the young for their supposed lack of development. Accusations of envy, bitterness, and poorly digested nostalgia appeared, alongside responses insisting that today's youth is a lost generation.

The conversation drifted into broader territories: war, demographics, immigration, and the future of Europe. Some messages linked the supposed lack of character in young people with the inability to face future conflicts. Others responded that these young people are exactly those who will sustain the country when those currently writing are gone.

The exchange ended without consensus. The only coincidence was that something has changed in the way of being a teenager, although there is no agreement on whether that change is a loss, an adaptation, or simply the nth version of a complaint that each generation launches against the next. The scene at Plaza de Oriente remains there, and the kids, with the same hairstyle, still don't realize that someone is diagnosing them from the sidewalk.