“If You Didn’t Buy Avocado Toast…” Generational Differences in the Way We Think About Money

By: Noelani Conahan

I can’t tell you how many times my brother or dad have mourned my future savings - savings that will never be, because I’m buying a coffee or a snack instead. My brother will plug the amount I’ve just spent (usually around $5 or $6) into some website and tell me how if I’d put it into the right retirement account I’d have around $200 by my mid 60s. Don’t get me wrong, I save some and I try to keep track of my spending habits, but there will always be some little things I value more than they can understand. There’s a petty argument I could make, raking boomers over the coals for their iconically out-of-touch statements about the home ownership we miss out on for a slice of avocado toast or extra fries. That argument is incredibly satisfying to make, because their statements really do reflect a kind of patronizing willingness to blindly assume the worst about an entire generation, stripping away layers of context and ignoring difficult economic realities. But I also think there's a deeper truth unconsciously highlighted by these verbal jabs: Gen Z has learned to value little material joys in a world that often feels joyless. 

As a generation, we’ve gathered a reputation for oversensitivity, phone addiction and a supposed lack of fiscal responsibility. I think from the outside my spending can look like a lack of restraint, or a failure to consider my long term financial future. Maybe there’s some truth there. But that money isn’t being thrown away. It’s exchanged for something to look forward to, something to boost my mood; it’s a luxury that I know can make a legitimate difference in the quality of my day and often my level of productivity. I’ve finished assignments at coffee shops after struggling to focus in my room, and I’ve known the unadulterated joy of buying sushi for dinner at the end of a really long day.

I feel a lot of guilt about these purchases, and I hear a lot of guilt from peers. That guilt is strongly reinforced from a lot of different directions, and what often gets lost is the genuine value of those purchases for a lot of us. The practical necessity of operating within your means is self-evident, but I think the moral pathologizing is counterproductive. What if we accepted that there’s an emotional utility to allowing ourselves fun little experiences and then went from there? Maybe it’s not so bad to be a Gen Z stereotype (I know I am). I would rather be called naive for overtipping a barista and enjoying my fluffy drink than look back in 60 years and realize I’ve lived less fully than I could have. Balance is key, but don’t underestimate the little treats.