You’ve probably heard the saying “out with the old, in with the new.” It’s commonplace that when something new and seemingly better comes along, clinging to the old seems meaningless. Yet, I can’t help but notice a backward cultural shift across the world — one that changes the narrative to “out with the new, in with the old.”

The ’50s were different from the ’60s, the ’60s differed from the ’70s, the ’70s varied from the ’80s and so on. Past decades had their own identities, but today, it seems as if our current decade is having an identity crisis, as a backward shift to the past is becoming increasingly evident. This can be seen with the rise of thrifting for vintage clothing, the revival of flip phones and trading in a Bluetooth speaker for the classic vinyl.

I’m part of this trend myself, as a vintage CD player takes pride of place in my living room. Sure, I think it looks cool and the sound system is great, but I can’t deny that using my CD player is nowhere near as convenient as picking up my phone, clicking on the Apple Music icon and throwing on whatever song I’d like — “Touch” by Daft Punk has been my go-to lately.

But it’s not just me who participates in this trend. Searches for flip phones have increased by 15,369% among Gen Z and younger millennials over the past year, according to Accio. Those who purchase a flip phone willingly abandon key features that they would otherwise have in a smartphone.

And while streaming still dominates the music industry, physical music media is experiencing a resurgence. In fact, 2022 marked the 16th year of growth in vinyl record sales and these sales continue to rise. Objectively, the vinyl record is an inconvenient method of listening to music when streaming apps exist to make the process effortless. Yet, the rise of record sales says otherwise.

So, the question arises — if the new represents progress, then why do we romanticize the old?

It is possible this backward shift is just nostalgia’s way of bringing back memories that we’d otherwise never be able to relive. But I believe this shift to be deeper than simple longing. Perhaps you’ve heard a grandparent, or any other boomer, rub it in your face that “life was so much simpler back then” or some version of that — and honestly, they may be right. This shift isn’t nostalgic, it’s an escape from the chaotic world we live in.

Gen Z has earned itself the label of “the anxious generation,” as around half of young adults ages 18 to 29 reported “always” or “often” feeling anxious, considering various political, social and economic factors. Modern technology doesn’t exactly help in these scenarios either. Of course, I am not going to deny that every era has had its fair share of problems: rapid technological evolution, globalization and civil discourse, among others.

But what distinguishes today from the past is the speed at which these issues arise, or rather, how quickly they become an issue. A quick buzz in your pocket signals another news headline, crisis or trend. Information moves at such incredible speed that people do not have the time to even remotely process it when — boom — the next thing begins.

The past serves as a safe space for us to seek comfort in an uncomfortable present. Reviving the past centers us by bringing us back to a place where people felt in control, or at least more human.

Although we may not even realize it, the shift back to the old is a form of revolution that seeks to reclaim control of a world that moves at speeds we can’t comprehend. There’s something about the crackling sound of a record, the sleek style of a vintage jacket or the click of a flip phone opening and closing that brings us a sense of balance. So, if you ask me, our obsession with the past isn’t about nostalgia, but rather escaping the present.

I don’t know if the old is really better, but I find myself taking a step back into the past. The past feels safe during a time when everything is moving at a rate that I, along with many others, can’t keep up with. So, in the meantime, I think I’ll keep the CD player running to remind me that slowing down may not be so bad.

Ronan Goddard is a sophomore majoring in philosophy, politics and law. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.