Gen Z: Their True Range, Birth Years, and the Future They're Shaping
The Quiet Revolution: How Gen Z Is Redefining Global Power, One Blind Box at a Time
When Bonnie Chan, the CEO of Hong Kong Exchanges and Clearing, stood before the Fortune Global Forum in late October and declared an investor obsession with "new consumption," she wasn't talking about another tech gadget or a new streaming service. She pointed to a fuzzy, ugly-cute doll named Labubu. And when I first heard that, I honestly just sat back in my chair, speechless. Because Labubu isn't just a toy; it's a vibrant, undeniable signal of a profound global shift, a tectonic plate moving beneath our feet, driven by the most digitally native, emotionally intelligent, and frankly, most revolutionary generation yet: Generation Z.
We're talking about the kids, or rather, young adults, born roughly between the mid-90s and early 2010s—you know, the `gen z years range` that’s now hitting their stride in the workforce and consumer markets. Their impact is so much more than just fleeting trends. This isn't just about Pop Mart's astronomical rise, pulling in $1.9 billion in revenue in six months, with profits surging nearly 400% on the back of little monster dolls. This is about a complete re-evaluation of value, a redefinition of cultural power, and even a nascent, unpredictable force shaping the future of global politics. It's a massive, exhilarating, and slightly terrifying paradigm shift, and we’re only just beginning to grasp its scope.
Beyond the Blind Box: The Heart of "New Consumption"
So, what exactly is this "new consumption" that Labubu so perfectly embodies? It’s not just about buying things; it’s about buying feelings. It’s about emotional resonance, self-expression, and a dash of thrilling uncertainty. Pop Mart’s ingenious "blind box" model, where you don’t know which specific doll you’re getting until you open it, taps into something primal. It’s like a modernized, high-stakes version of the old gachapon machines Wang Ning, Pop Mart's founder, took inspiration from—except now, the stakes are higher, the community is global, and the secondary market is buzzing. You see photos of celebrities like Rihanna and Lisa rocking these dolls on their handbags, and tennis star Naomi Osaka proudly showing off her custom "Andre Swagassi" and "Billie Jean Bling" Labubus on TV. It’s not about status; it’s about a shared, almost tribal appreciation for something genuinely unique, something that speaks to them.
This isn't just a quirky fad. Analysts, like Amber Zhang from BigOne Lab, hit the nail on the head: it’s `generation z` urban shoppers, often feeling the squeeze of limited career options and social mobility, choosing small, emotionally fulfilling pleasures over the traditional big-ticket items. Forget the house, at least for now; give me a piece of art that makes me smile, that expresses who I am. What does it say about our society when an "ugly-cute" doll can create more buzz and value than entire industries built on old-school aspirations? How much of this is pure joy, and how much is a quiet rebellion against a world that feels increasingly out of their control? It's a question we need to be asking, because this emotional currency is rapidly becoming the most valuable in the market.
China's Cultural Renaissance: A Gen Z Powered Global Ascent
Here’s where it gets really interesting: this cultural phenomenon isn't just happening in China; it's radiating from China. For too long, the world’s second-largest economy has been an economic powerhouse but a cultural follower. Japan had anime and video games, Korea had K-Pop and K-dramas, but China? Not so much, on the global stage. But `what are the gen z years` if not a time of unprecedented global connection and cross-cultural pollination? Now, with `gen z` at the helm, that's changing at a dizzying pace.
We're seeing Chinese intellectual property and local brands, once beloved only domestically, becoming global sensations. Beyond Pop Mart, think about gaming behemoths like miHoYo’s Genshin Impact or Game Science’s Black Myth: Wukong, setting player count records and attracting massive international fanbases. Then there's Ne Zha 2, an animated film that’s this year’s top-grossing film globally—yes, globally!—pulling in almost $2 billion. Even Chinese drink brands like Luckin Coffee and Chagee, and cosmetics brands leveraging their aggressive social media savvy, are elbowing their way into international markets, often surpassing established Western and East Asian players. This isn’t just about lower production costs, as Cheng Lu from CreateAI suggests; it’s about a new generation of creators and consumers who are both deeply rooted in Chinese culture and utterly fluent in global digital trends. They’re building something that resonates universally, and it’s a beautiful, powerful thing to witness, reminding me a bit of how the printing press revolutionized the spread of ideas, just on a global, instantaneous scale, and with far more glitter. But with this newfound cultural influence comes a responsibility: to ensure these powerful narratives foster connection, not division.
The Roar of a Generation: Beyond Consumption, Towards Change
But let's not confine `generation z` to just shopping. Their impact is far deeper, far more fundamental. This is a generation that grew up in the shadow of 9/11, the 2008 financial crisis, climate change warnings, and a global pandemic. They’ve seen governments stumble, institutions fail, and the planet burn, often streamed live on their phones. It’s no wonder their fears about dying are less about "decline" (like Boomers) or "logistics" (`generation x`) or "unlived potential" (`millennials`). For `gen z`, it's about how they'll die—in a mass casualty event, in debt, or before they've even had a chance to truly live in a stable world. They joke about it constantly, using dark humor as a shield, but underneath is a potent mix of anxiety and a fierce desire for agency.
This isn’t just about consumer choices; it's about a generation that's ready to challenge the status quo. We've seen their power manifest in protests, toppling governments in places like Madagascar and Nepal, forcing concessions in Bulgaria. These aren't your parents' protests; they're born on social media, often leaderless, spontaneous, and incredibly hard to predict or suppress. As the "fears about dying" report highlighted, they're confronting mortality head-on, not with resignation, but with a burning sense of injustice and an urgent call for change. What happens when this emotional intelligence, this digital fluency, this raw dissatisfaction, fully converges with their growing economic and cultural power? It’s going to be something truly extraordinary, something that reshapes everything we thought we knew about global influence, something that’s going to make us all sit up and pay attention.
The Future Is Now, And It's Wearing a Labubu
The Labubu mania might cool, and Pop Mart's stock might fluctuate—it already dropped a cool $2.2 billion in market value after a salesperson admitted blind boxes are overpriced, showing just how jumpy investors are. But to dismiss this as just another Beanie Baby bubble is to miss the forest for the trees. HSBC analysts are right: Pop Mart isn't just a toy company; it's an IP engine, a cultural anthropologist that understands the pulse of `gen z` better than most. The true story here isn't about one doll or one company. It's about a generation that's leveraging emotional connection, digital fluency, and an innate desire for authenticity to fundamentally shift global culture and economics. They're not just buying products; they're investing in identity, in community, in a vision of a future that’s more aligned with their values. And that, my friends, is a force that no market correction, no political elite, can truly contain. Get ready, because `gen alpha` is watching, learning, and will soon be next in line to push the boundaries even further.