Make Grandparents Great Again

Donald Trump is more than just a political figure—he has become an outspoken, universal grandfather for an entire generation of people who never had one. For many, he fills a void left by the absence of older family members, particularly grandfathers or father figures. He comes from a generation where authenticity wasn’t something people signaled—it was simply who they were.

Many people today have never interacted with someone of Trump’s age. They don’t know what it’s like to have a family member from that generation who speaks their mind without a filter, who doesn’t constantly self-correct to avoid being cancelled. Trump just interacts like a normal older family member, making politics more accessible than your typical politician—another facet of his success.

We live in a world where everyone is carefully calculating how to present themselves. Authenticity, rather than being natural, has become a marketing strategy—a rebranding exercise that people use to maintain relevance. Just look at Mark Zuckerberg, a man leading a company designed to bring people closer together, yet he has had to reinvent his public image to align with his new political ideology. How can somebody who needs to rely on a committee of PR specialists to manage his persona possibly lead a company dedicated to human connection?

Trump, by contrast, represents the opposite. He doesn’t rebrand. He doesn’t adapt to social expectations or edit himself in real time. And that, in a world that feels increasingly artificial and performative, is precisely why so many people find him compelling. Whether they agree with his politics or not, he represents an entire population that doesn’t have the courage to speak up, and that was officially verified on the 5th of November 2024. He is like your grandparent on social media with nothing to lose—other than to see his family succeed.

But Trump’s appeal isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about a deeper societal loss. We are missing the voices of older generations, the wisdom and stability they once provided. The world is more disconnected, less principled, because the generations that followed the post-war era simply don’t have the same attributes.

Older generations provided something beyond just wisdom—they gave a perspective built on experiences that were unavoidable and had to be endured. They had lived through war, economic hardship, and social change. They understood resilience in a way that younger generations, raised in an era of instant gratification and digital convenience, would struggle to comprehend if they had to walk the same path.

When my two grandads were alive, they shaped my worldview in ways my peers couldn’t. One introduced me to Christianity, grounding me in faith and traditional values. The other, more progressive, sparked my curiosity by sharing classic films like North by Northwest, which opened my mind to art beyond what I was used to. Through them, I learned to appreciate things that are timeless. When I tried to share these films with friends, they dismissed them as “too old” or “black-and-white, no thanks.” It made me wonder—did they miss out on having someone older introduce them to these kinds of experiences?

The warmth, patience, and steady presence that older generations once provided are missing, leaving many people searching for guidance online or following individuals who fill the void of their generational deficit. Videos like An Old Man’s Advice by Bernard Albertson on YouTube have 28 million views, which really says something. And that’s just one example. YouTube is filled with older voices bringing value to generations that don’t just lack grandparents but also father figures. Joe Rogan, for example, fills the void for many men who grew up without a strong father figure, offering guidance, discipline, and a sense of direction that used to be passed down through family.

Now, everything is automated; self-checkouts replace human cashiers, and even basic social interactions have become transactional. We have 20 different ways to communicate—texts, emails, voice notes, social media—but somehow, people talk less than ever. Everyone is “busy,” yet no one seems to have time. Within families, the difference is noticeable. Grandparents, no matter what they were going through, always made you a priority. But younger family members—uncles, aunts, cousins—always seem caught up in something else.

This has created a craving for something stable, something that cuts through the noise. And that’s where someone like Donald Trump steps in. He doesn’t talk like a polished career politician; he speaks plainly, bluntly, and unapologetically—like a grandfather, if you had the chance to experience one. His appeal comes from the fact that, despite embracing digital tools, he hasn’t allowed those tools to change his behavior.

We place so much emphasis on diversity in terms of race, gender, and identity, yet age diversity is rarely discussed. Older generations weren’t raised with technology, but they do their best to embrace it—often turning to their grandchildren for help navigating their new iPads.

The best teachers I ever had were older ones—the ones who weren’t just following a rigid curriculum but were drawing from real-life experience. They could tell stories, frame lessons differently, and connect with students beyond memorization and test-taking.

On the other hand, younger teachers today, no matter how skilled, are working in a system that doesn’t encourage them to “paint outside the lines.” As a result, many students never get to experience the kind of grandparent wisdom that only comes from someone who has lived through multiple decades of change.

The world is moving forward, but in many ways, it feels like it’s leaving something behind. The wisdom, warmth, and stability that older generations provided are disappearing, and society is colder because of it. People are searching for that missing connection online, looking for something outside the system we are so dependent on for success.

We worry about climate change. We worry about sustainability. But we never stop to think about how we’re growing more disconnected because we’re losing a generation that knows how to weave the social fabric of our world back together again. Without them, we don’t have a sustainable future—we have a sprawling, disconnected reality, much like Los Angeles, where community barely exists and everyone is isolated.

Anyway, it’s time to call my nan.