There’s a simple reason Gen-Zers like me won’t change a lightbulb
God forbid you’d ever meet a Gen-Zer like me. We’re apparently an anxious, clueless and incapable generation full of snowflakes, scared of everything from drinking to actually working hard. And what’s more, we’re now apparently afraid of DIY. That’s right: we can’t even identify a spanner in a lineup of domestic tools, we can’t change a lightbulb without summoning assistance and we shudder at the thought of climbing a five-tread ladder.
I can’t believe we’re letting the side down, honestly. Us Brits are meant to be a proud nation of roll-your-sleeves-up Do-It-Yourself-ers, but now Gen Z-ers are ruining it for everyone. We’re at risk of becoming a lazy nation of GOTDITS (“Get others to do it”).
Well, that’s according to a new study conducted by the motoring and cycling retailer Halfords, which found that one in five younger adults don’t know what a spanner is, and seek help from a professional for even the most basic of household tasks. It found that those aged 18 to 27 were most likely to pay a professional to fix a problem around the home or do something as apparently easy as hanging a picture frame. Meanwhile, nearly a quarter admitted they couldn’t change a ceiling light bulb, with one in five fearing the bulb could be “too hot” to touch. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, 20 per cent said that going up a ladder might be “too dangerous”.
As someone who regularly witnesses studies like these that deem my generation as useless – which are then used for Gen Z-bashing headlines – I take such “research” with a handful of salt. Recent headlines announced our inability to use corkscrews, for example. Whatever you think of the study’s accuracy, it failed to address the possible reasons why Gen Z might be worried about carrying out DIY. My theory: most of us can’t afford to be homeowners, and therefore live in rentals that place inhabitants on perpetual tenterhooks with landlords. Hammering a tiny nail into the wall feels like a punishable offence. Personally, I wouldn’t dare carry out any handiwork in my current rented flat out of fear of losing my entire life savings (sorry, I mean my deposit).
If things need fixing in my flat, it goes like this: my housemates and I carefully craft an overly polite message to our landlord, which is then redrafted and redrafted in a tense WhatsApp group chat. When we all agree that the message is firm and clear but not so firm and clear that we come across as demanding and/or annoying and therefore worthy of speedy eviction, we hit send. A handyperson magically arrives a few days later.
There’s never a suggestion that we tenants should be expected to try and fix problems ourselves. It’s clearly stipulated in most rental contracts that you could lose your deposit if you make changes to the property. And of course, we wouldn’t dream of it: there’s no use risking being blamed for doing something wrong, and most of all, why should I lift a finger to improve a property that’s already gobbling the majority of my wages each month? I’m being humiliated by the London rental market on a daily basis – I owe it nothing.
Dramatics aside, my generation’s dependence on the rental market has had a huge knock-on effect on becoming fully fledged, ladder-owning adults. Being stuck in a cycle of renting means that we won’t ever have to attempt DIY until we’re miraculously liquid enough to one day become homeowners. Plus, record numbers of young people are still living with their parents, which means that it’s not their prerogative to make any changes to the property.
All of this doesn’t mean that we aren’t capable, or that we don’t know how to perform certain tasks like bleeding a radiator or hanging a picture frame. I don’t want to brag, but I do co-own a powerful electric drill with my flatmate and have a collection of screwdrivers I bought myself. But will I ever use them on my landlord’s property? God no! These tools are exclusively used on Ikea flatpack furniture that I’ve bought myself, and assemblage will only occur far away from any walls or surfaces that could potentially be damaged in the process. Did I mention that I can build a pretty mean set of Malm drawers?
When will my full DIY potential be realised? Well, I have absolutely no idea – home ownership is a long way off. Last year, the average deposit for a first-time buyer in the UK was £53,414. Meanwhile, high interest rates and elevated house prices mean that first-time Gen Z buyers will pay £104,400 on average in the first five years of their mortgage, while millennials see average repayments of half that amount (£51,800) according to data from the letting agent Hamptons. Gen Z made up a third (36 per cent) of renters in 2023, which was up from one per cent a decade prior.
While I will continue to fiercely defend Gen Z against our apparent failings, I must highlight that the reason we lead such socially inept existences compared to our millennial forebears and parents’ generation is because we’re trying to build our lives in hugely different economic times. We don’t have house parties because we don’t want to lose our deposits or because we still live at home. We party less not because we’re boring, but because we can’t afford to due to the rising cost of living. We don’t own corkscrews because... duh... corked wine is expensive.
I really don’t wish to complain. I’m constantly reassured – by homeowning millennials no less – that being “broke” is an important part of your twenties. Whether that level of brokenness is comparable to anything my parents’ generation experienced is another question: my mum and dad bought their first house in London at my age. But here I am, catastrophising about how much that scuff on my wall will cost me. Perhaps I will never be able to afford a house. Perhaps I will never stop renting. But I can tell you this: I do know what a bloody spanner looks like. And I’d be using it constantly if I could.
