I think there's a gigantic generation gap in terms of how people

Alex Steffen, futurist and prophet of sustainability, once declared: “I think there's a gigantic generation gap in terms of how people understand the Internet and how much they think technology is an important factor in social change.” In these words, he lays bare a rift that divides the young from the old, the digital-born from the analog-raised, the dreamers of a new society from those still anchored in the traditions of the past. It is not merely a gap of years, but a chasm of perception, where the same Internet appears to one as a trivial tool and to another as a mighty engine of transformation.

For the elders, who grew up in a world where messages traveled slowly and knowledge was locked in libraries, the Internet may seem a convenience, useful but not world-changing. To them, social change came from marches in the streets, speeches in the public square, revolutions fought in sweat and blood. They may see technology as secondary, a background instrument rather than the central force. But to the youth, born into the web of networks, raised in a world where a single post can ignite movements across continents, technology is not mere machinery — it is the bloodstream of social change itself.

History confirms this generational rift. When the printing press was first unleashed, many of the older generation dismissed it as a passing curiosity, not realizing that it would topple monarchies, ignite revolutions, and birth an Enlightenment that would reshape civilization. Similarly, in our time, the Internet has been the printing press of the digital age. Where once kings feared pamphlets, now regimes tremble at tweets. Where once sermons were whispered in cathedrals, now causes roar across global platforms. Yet those who cannot see this power remain blind to its significance.

Consider the Arab Spring of 2011. Young men and women armed not with swords but with smartphones toppled governments that had ruled for decades. Social media became their battlefield, and images shared online became their banners. To the older generation, who measured rebellion in marches and barricades, this was unthinkable. But to the youth, it was natural, for they understood instinctively that technology was no longer peripheral but central to the shaping of society. This is what Alex Steffen’s words reveal: the gap is not only in knowledge, but in vision.

Yet, this gap is not without danger. For if the old dismiss the new, they risk stifling progress. And if the young scorn the old, they risk losing wisdom hard-won through centuries. The true path forward is not to deepen the divide, but to build bridges across it — for social change needs both the vision of the young and the experience of the old. Technology may provide the tools, but human wisdom must provide the direction. Without balance, innovation may lead to chaos, or tradition may lead to stagnation.

The meaning of Steffen’s teaching is clear: we stand in an age where technology has become one of the greatest forces shaping society, and yet its power is not equally understood. Some underestimate it, others overestimate it. But to wield it rightly, we must first acknowledge its central place in the story of human change. To deny this truth is to misread the era in which we live.

Therefore, let the listener act with wisdom: if you are young, do not despise the slow wisdom of your elders, for they know the depth of human struggle. If you are old, do not dismiss the tools of the present, for they may hold the keys to the future. Seek instead to merge the fire of youth with the steadiness of age, and together wield technology not as a toy, but as a hammer for justice, a pen for truth, and a light for progress. For as Alex Steffen has spoken, only by understanding the power of the Internet can we grasp the shape of the new civilization rising before us.