Daniel doesn’t speak for everyone, but his story is the clearest answer I’ve heard to the old Kennedy challenge: sometimes, the smartest move isn’t to step up, but to step aside until the system earns your attention.

This article is not a quick take. It’s not a light touch on Gen-Z as if they’re fragile and need “handling with care.” It’s not engineered for skimmability, nor designed for a quick dopamine hit without the willingness to actually immerse yourself in what’s coming.

I don’t mind tips, but I would appreciate a share even more. Thanks for reading, and a double thanks if you take the time to comment at the end of the article too.

See the share buttons to LinkedIn, social media and email? Please, use them and help keep .fyi free at the point of readership.

Daniel didn’t ask for sympathy; simply clarity. I’m not here to spoon-feed you a moral. He gives his candour, his story, and the full complexity of a generation that’s already outgrown the received wisdom of tech pundits and armchair strategists. The very least you can do is read it in full, or instead stick your head in the sand and take what’s coming in ignorance. Smoking hopium is not a strategy.

If you make it to the end, you’ll understand why most “analysts” are still missing the obvious, and why Gen Z’s market, mindset, and maturity will eat your prefab narratives for breakfast.

But it’s not my job to tell you. It’s yours to metabolise what’s here, or admit you couldn’t be bothered. If that’s the case, you can keep arguing about “max pain” options expiry all you like, because the world will pass you by. If Max Pain means nothing to you, it’s the stock market equivalent of Groundhog Day, every Friday.

Deep water ahead. Dive in, or accept that what comes next isn’t for you. The market already has and is already metabolising it. The question is: are you ready for Gen Z? Because they’re already over you.

Let’s move on. More on Daniel and Gen-Z later. Firstly, how does Gen-Z impact Apple?

[teaser – you’ll have to read to find out - but here’s a quick read in case you don’t want any real depth or insight].

Having spoken to Daniel at length, I’d argue that consumer spending habits are changing fast and Apple’s monolithic model is close to having its day (the lock-in system). People don’t any longer value “all things under one brand” the way they once did with Apple, because so many credible alternatives have now closed the gap, even if it isn’t closed. It’s now close enough for Apple hardware to be greatest, with the competition between good and great, not longer just average to competent.

In consumer mindsets that causes an enormous change. The cachet of buying Apple and enjoying the so-called “seamless” experience is now being directly challenged by other ecosystems, and getting people to pay yet higher prices up-front just for “service guaranteed: is a non starter especially with many stores or credit cards offering 2-3 year extended warranties of the manufacturers’ original.

This isn’t a time to raise prices, this is a time to accumulate a bigger and newer, fresher, customer base with a younger age demographic who can afford to buy Apple products, which are seen as increasingly unaffordable by Gen-Z who unlike previous generations aren’t being funded by The Bank of Mum and Dad and are increasingly having to fend for themselves, be self sufficient, often working two jobs, and resent unnecessary expenditure. Gen-Z like to splurge when they really want something but are more likely to spend money on experiences, not premium products.

Which is where Apple’s biggest challenge lies: how to target a different demographic, younger people who just can’t afford or resent having to pay so much extra for Apple products (even thought they might like them design-wise, they don’t care about the “ecosystem” or much about the interface or software or privacy – they’re all digital creators used to using social media and content creator tools which are often cross platform).

Apple needs to be careful not to put itself into a niche of being perceived a “luxury” brand which will immediately alienate Gen-Z who don’t generally see the need to pay for a premium for a luxury item, and recall, Apple’s renewed success under Jobs came from democratising Apple’s products again by making the original iMac and iBook affordable and within reach.

That’s not perceived as being the case now, rightly or wrongly, as the company has pursued a strategy of profiling sometimes absurdly priced items (witness the $1000 monitor stand for its proprietary displays) and the AVP – a test-bed set of VR goggles of no relevance to anyone other than a niche market with hardly any content and EOL’d at birth. Gen-Z clock these event, and the brand’s identity shits in their minds. They’re very sensitive to brand relevance and what a brand says about them, and identifying too closely with a brand like Apple where it seems to be trying to act as a statement about their identity - and accessorises them, doesn’t work the way it did on Gen X and Millenials for example.

This causes them to view even AirPods as luxury items hard to justify and aspirational even thought they’re comparably priced with the competition and make them highly visible as targets for criticism for, in Gen-Z’s eyes (remember Gen Z is any age up to 29 now) over-priced and under featured. Anyone who thinks they can ignore Gen-Z’s influence on upending shopping and purchasing trends is in for a rude awakening.

This is not just a generational grumble; it’s the future of every P/E ratio and growth narrative.

How Does This Impact Apple?

A Deep Dive into Gen-Z’s Shifting Sentiment and the Fading Glow of the Apple Monolith

It’s hard not to look at Apple of late and get the distinct whiff of a once-democratic tech giant teetering on the edge of full-blown luxury cult. The all-conquering “lock-in system”—where, for the cost of selling your soul (and both kidneys), you get everything under one brand—once conferred bragging rights and genuine utility. But the tides are shifting, and it’s not just your old iPhone’s battery percentage that’s slowly draining away.

The Monolithic Model Meets Tough Times

Let’s not beat around the bush: monolithic tech ecosystems are looking perilously passé. Gone are the days when Apple’s seamless, all-encompassing experience was genuinely unique. These days, credible alternatives abound—Android and Windows ecosystems, let alone third-party cross-platform tools, are good enough to make the difference between “good” and “great” largely academic for most buyers. The gap is not closed, but it’s close enough.

This perceptual shift is seismic. No longer is the Apple badge a shortcut to status or peace of mind. More and more, the so-called “seamless” experience has lost its premium: competitors have closed the gap, and frankly, many consumers are asking why on earth they should stump up even more for a guarantee that’s now effectively replicated elsewhere (credit card warranties and third-party cover, anyone?).

A New Generation, A New Fiscal Reality

Enter Gen-Z aged 14-29 now, in 2025 sometimes unfairly maligned as avocado-toast munchers (that was Millennials by the way), but in fact the first cohort in modern history largely expected to fend for themselves. Gone is The Bank of Mum and Dad, replaced by a gig economy where working two jobs isn’t a choice, it’s a necessity. Unsurprisingly, this breeds an advanced suspicion of unnecessary expenditure and a distaste for conspiuous luxury.

Younger buyers will splurge when they see true value—experiences, not objects, top their wish lists. That’s the challenge: Apple’s premium products look less like the ultimate splurge and more like prohibitively expensive hardware. As a result, this is not the time to crank up prices; it’s the moment to welcome new, younger customers into the fold and—heaven forfend—make the hardware affordable again.

Brand Ecosystems: No Longer a Winning Ticket

Gen-Z are digital natives who play hopscotch between platforms with aplomb. Being told that only Apple’s “ecosystem” can save you now—well, that’s about as trendy as wearing Crocs to a job interview. The cross-platform nature of social media, content creation tools, and the like, means that the Apple “walled garden” just isn’t as relevant as it once was. In fact, many younger buyers don’t give two figs for interface or privacy nuances; they want stuff that works where they are, not where the brand says they should be.

The Perils of Luxury Branding

Here’s the rub: Apple’s pricing strategy is now doing precisely what it spent years avoiding—turning the brand into a conspicuous luxury. Eye-watering prices signal exclusivity, not inclusion.

And Gen-Z, famously, have little appetite for overpriced frippery that announces to the world: “I spent more than I had to, and I’m not sure why.”

Even AirPods, once the gold standard for minimalism, are scrutinised as over-priced and under-featured, their aspirational value diminished by high visibility and easy parody.

A pair of Nothing Earbuuds with the same features as AirPod Pros? £99 instead of £269.

Brand Identity and Authenticity

Gen-Z—contrary to tired clichés—care deeply about brand relevance, but not in the way some older marketers assume. Attempts to position tech as a lifestyle statement miss the mark with a generation more interested in what a brand means than what it shouts. Where once Apple’s subversive iMacs and iBooks democratised technology, there is now a risk of haughtiness and aloofness that alienates buyers who prefer authenticity to hype.

A Few Nuances Worth Noting

This isn’t an attempt to write off Apple; spending splurges do happen, and, for the devoted, the badge remains a status symbol. But such loyalty is increasingly the exception, not the rule. The so-called “aspirational device” mantle is up for grabs, and Apple is looking a little off pace, perhaps more “haute couture” than “affordable luxury.”

My Final Word - Before Introducing Daniel’s.

Ignore Gen-Z at your peril. Apple’s next great challenge is not technological, but existential: reconnecting with a generation that no longer worships at the altar of the monolith, but expects brands to earn their loyalty through relevance, accessibility, and genuine value—not swagger alone.

For those who doubt: read the room, read the research, and if you don’t believe me, ask a twenty-something what they think Apple says about them now. You might not like the answer.

Early Exposure, Accelerated Maturity

Daniel is articulate, observant, unashamedly full of candour and confidence. But he is also, in many ways, already post-young. And that’s the real story: a generation growing up fast, under glass, and in full view of people who still think they’re not ready for a real world they’ve alread been fully exposed to and lived in full glare of. They are ready. They’ve already lived it, but all the adult world sees is a “young kid behind a screen too distracted to be bothered to do any work or be productive.”

“Most guys my age were still in the party phase years ago. But I had mine from age 12 onwards. With likes. Views. Content. The whole performative circus. I’m done with that. I want something stable and more valid.”

This may seem atypical. But it is not rare. A growing cohort of Gen Z is trading performativity for peace. But only after the burnout, and having formed deep and well informed view about what matters to them.

But don’t mistake mature balance for boredom: Daniel’s next journey is just beginning. He’s off to start his degree in England, has big plans for founding more than a few start-ups, whilst coding in his spare time, keeping six social media feeds up to date, travelling to see friends, playing volleyball in Stockholm where his boyfriend lives - and all while editing a magazine about the tech valley scene in Sweden - an area known as Stockholm Valley - home to Spotify, Lovable (the latest Swedish unicorn) and payments giant Klarna amongst many others.

There’s no going back and there’s no off switch for Daniel and others of his generation. The question now is: how Gen Z will metabolise this early exposure into something sustainable. Daniel is proof it can be done. But also a reminder of the potential cost, when artificial constraints like Apple’s “Screentime” settings and Instagram and TikTok’s supposed automatic content moderators are too slow to keep up – and to be honest, why would platforms willingly filter them out, when it’s the content which drives the doom-scrolling those platforms thrive on?

The news is, they’re more productive, creating live content edited down and uploaded in multiple formats to different social media platforms, using different edits for a slightly different audience for each, the way an advertising or PR agency might be retained by a brand to embed and enhance their brand equity and identity, and constantly broaden its reach, aware 24/7 how the slightest mishap might destroy them in the eyes of their peers in real time reactions and cross posting.

Why This Matters to .fyi Readers

Because the market’s next consumers, creators, and critics are already here. And they’re not stupid. They’ve been exposed. And not just to images, but to expectations from before they even knew anything was expected of them.

They understand branding because they are brands. They understand virality because they’ve chased it. They understand shame because they’ve felt it in public. They have more experience being “the product” than most adults have being “the buyer.”

So if you’re wondering why brand loyalty is dead, why younger users aren’t upgrading to the new iPhone every year, why they’re choosing platform-agnostic AI tools over Apple’s walled garden — this is why.

It’s not just about features. It’s about freedom. They want tools that adapt to them, not ones that control them. They want agency. Privacy. Context. And they want companies to stop gaslighting them about “safety” when all that really means is control. They also don’t want to be slaves to an upgrade cycle at the expense of the freedom to travel.

“Apple talks about battery life,” Daniel says. “I talk about being able to change my own battery. Why can’t I do that? Oh, right  because it isn’t ‘safe.’ Funny how Apple says it’s always ‘unsafe’ if it’s something that costs me money.”

So this is Daniel. Nineteen. More clear-eyed than most tech pundits and product managers. Less bitter than most older investors. And maybe, the voice we should be listening to if we want to understand the market we’re still pretending to lead.

This isn’t a one-off. There are a a myriad of Daniels some of whom are more jaded, some angrier, some lost, but all more aware than they should be - at least on any metric anyone older than 35 might be using. They use their post-young teenage years’ experience as a survive-and thrive-mechanism for their generation where it’s “do or die” by your next post. Perhaps that’s what scares us most. Welcome to the first adult generation of the digital age.

Fifteen and seen. Nineteen going on thirty, and Daniel, the guy who’s going to be leading you on a discovery of what you need to do to make his generation vibe with you and your products (and yes, your investments too).

Early Exposure, Accelerated Maturity

Daniel is articulate, observant, unashamedly full of candour and confidence. But he is also, in many ways, already post-young. And that’s the real story: a generation growing up fast, under glass, and in full view of people who still think they’re not ready for a real world they’ve alread been fully exposed to and lived in full glare of. They are ready. They’ve already lived it.

But all the adult world sees is a “young kid behind a screen too distracted to be bothered to do any work or be productive.”

“Most guys my age were still in the party phase years ago. But I had mine from age 12 onwards. With likes. Views. Content. The whole performative circus. I’m done with that. I want something stable and more valid.”

This may seem atypical. But it is not rare. A growing cohort of Gen Z is trading performativity for peace. But only after the burnout, and having formed deep and well informed view about what matters to them.

But don’t mistake mature balance for boredom: Daniel’s next journey is just beginning. He’s off to start his degree in England, has big plans for founding more than a few start-ups, whilst coding in his spare time, keeping six social media feeds up to date, travelling to see friends, playing volleyball in Stockholm where his boyfriend lives - and all while editing a magazine about the tech valley scene in Sweden - an area known as Stockholm Valley - home to Spotify, Lovable (the latest Swedish unicorn) and payments giant Klarna amongst many others. He’s also publishing several magazines online (including one, naturally, all about the Stockholm tech-startup scene www.stockholmvalley.com ) and managing social media feeds for himself and corporate clients to pay his way through his gap year. So much for a lazy generation spending “too much time behind their screens.“

There’s no going back and there’s no off switch for Daniel and others of his generation. The question now is: how Gen Z will metabolise this early exposure into something sustainable. Daniel is proof it can be done. But also a reminder of the potential cost, when artificial constraints like Apple’s “Screentime” settings and Instagram and TikTok’s supposed automatic content moderators are too slow to keep up – and to be honest, why would platforms willingly filter them out, when it’s the content which drives the doom-scrolling those platforms thrive on?

The news is, they’re more productive creating live content edited down and uploaded in multiple formats to different social media platforms, using different edits for a slightly different audience for each, the way an advertising or PR agency might be maintained by a brand to retain and enhance their brand equity and identity, and constantly broaden its reach, aware 24/7 how the slightest mishap might destroy them in the eyes of their peers in real time reactions and cross posting.

Daniel now has a boyfriend in his 30s and long-term plans. Not out of rebellion, he says, but because he’s “been there, done that, posted the photos and gotten over my regrets.” He goes on to say he’s now getting more from travelling around Europe on budget flights than blowing money on the latest tech.

“I’ve been on 27 flights in the last 12 months in my gap year. My AirPods run out of battery, my iPhone dies but I’ll keep on using them and my Intel MacBook until I can’t change the batteries anymore. Why upgrade for the same old look, when that money could take me to Miami or up the fjords in Norway?”

Why indeed. Is this the end of the iPhone“super-cycle?

Fifteen and seen. Nineteen going on thirty, and Daniel, the guy who’s going to be leading you on a discovery of what you need to do to make his generation vibe with you and your products, in this article when the rest drops soon. Make sure you’re ready later this week.

Meet Daniel

https://www.linkedin.com/in/daniel-alestrand/

Let’s put aside the theory for a moment and meet Daniel, the reality check for a generation that marketers, analysts, and execs keep misreading. Here’s what happens when you ask Gen-Z to explain themselves—no filter, no sales pitch

Let’s set the scene. Eighteen and presenting at the Stockholm School of Economics

The lecture hall at Stockholm School of Economics’ Executive Education centre at Campus Kämpasten hums quietly, an anticipatory undercurrent moving through the audience of seasoned Swedish public sector leaders. They’ve come to hear about brain-computer interfaces and artificial intelligence, a subject that might seem the preserve of seasoned technologists or academics. Yet, stepping up to the podium is Daniel Alestrand—just eighteen years old then—already preparing his notes alongside co-presenter Eleu Ellinger. There’s a pause, a respectful silence: even here, in a room of experienced professionals, Daniel commands attention.

At nineteen, Daniel is both exactly what you might expect and precisely what you don’t. Yes, he’s visibly youthful—an appearance briefly jarring against the room’s wood-panelled solemnity—but his composed demeanour, clear-eyed presence, and confident stance quickly dissolve any misgivings. This isn’t novelty; it’s gravitas.

This is Daniel’s second appearance at Stockholm School of Economics. In December, he stood before faculty and students, including programme advisor Kari Anne Gransäter, speaking eloquently about ontological crises and identity theory in the age of brain-computer interfaces. His talk resonated so deeply that it prompted an immediate invitation to return, now addressing executives at Kämpasten. Today, Daniel and Ellinger are poised to discuss not only Neuralink and Blackrock Neurotech but also deeper philosophical and existential dimensions: “anthropic verification” frameworks and the blurred lines of human identity as we integrate technology into our cognitive and physical selves.

As Daniel speaks, the room listens. He outlines the dramatic pace of advancements in AI and neural technology, his voice steady, measured, confident. There’s no youthful bravado, no attempt at grandstanding—just an authoritative, measured delivery of nuanced content that reflects a clear mastery of his subject matter.

“We face a genuine ontological crisis,” Daniel explains, with a calmness and clarity beyond his years. “The frameworks we’ve traditionally used to verify human identity, our place in the universe, our sense of what is authentically ‘us,’ are fundamentally shifting as technologies like large-language models become indistinguishable from human-generated content.”

The room responds visibly: some executives lean forward, their expressions revealing deep engagement, others making notes or exchanging glances. It’s clear Daniel isn’t merely presenting a rehearsed script—he’s sparking dialogue, inviting debate.

Later, during an informal dinner at Campus Kämpasten, the conversation continues in a more intimate setting. Daniel sits with industry leaders and executives including Susanna Alexius, Cecilia Hjerpe, and Kari Anne Gransäter, discussing the often-overlooked importance of free-thinking, creativity, and intellectual pursuits like philosophy and poetry. Here, too, he speaks with ease, comfortably bridging topics and generations. It’s clear the executives appreciate his fresh perspective, his unpretentious insights, and his insistence on the value of unquantifiable impacts—those intellectual and creative endeavours that defy conventional metrics but shape the very fabric of our culture.

“This is precisely why integrating fact-based knowledge with balanced, forward-thinking perspectives matters,” Daniel remarks thoughtfully, prompting nods of agreement around the table. The recognition of his audience’s willingness to engage critically, to challenge assumptions, underscores Daniel’s exceptional ability to connect authentically across generational divides.

Reflecting on this later, Daniel offers a perspective that’s both mature and matter-of-fact: “There’s a misconception that young people are somehow shallow, that we engage superficially with the world,” he notes. “But growing up online forced my generation to become exceptionally adept at spotting manipulation and inauthenticity. Ironically, it’s made us more discerning, more critical, and far more cautious about what we trust.”

His words underscore a core truth about Gen-Z: they’re digital natives not just by virtue of birth but by relentless exposure and necessary adaptation. Daniel’s early life online wasn’t just about likes and shares—it was a crucible of rapid, sometimes punishing maturation. While parents feared that social media might ‘ruin’ their children, those same children, Daniel argues, developed an innate literacy for navigating and critically evaluating the world around them.

As the evening winds down, Daniel expresses gratitude to Pernilla Petrelius Karlberg and the SSE Executive Education team. It’s not mere politeness—his sincerity is palpable. “Events like this aren’t just speaking engagements; they’re vital conversations,” he reflects. “They remind us why intellectual curiosity, open debate, and authenticity matter so deeply particularly when discussing technology’s profound impact on society.”

With his seminar complete, Daniel is already looking ahead to further research, more seminars, and the beginning of his Bachelor studies in England. Yet, the evening’s impact lingers. He’s left an impression not because of his age, but because of his remarkable capability to hold his own amongst seasoned leaders, gently challenging assumptions, sparking thought, and paving the way for genuine, meaningful reflection.

This is Gen-Z, embodied: thoughtful, resilient, and poised. Daniel isn’t just a glimpse into the future—he’s already shaping it.

Section 2: Accelerated Maturity: The Generation Under Glass

Daniel is articulate, observant, and unashamedly candid—but what catches you off guard isn’t his fluency or even the maturity of his insights, it’s the ease with which he has already outgrown youth itself. He’s nineteen, yes, but he might as well be twenty-nine or older. The real revelation is how quickly his generation was forced to mature, in public and in plain view, while adults continued treating them as mere “kids behind screens.”

Early Exposure & Accelerated Maturity: Daniel, In His Own Words From “Performativity” to Authenticity

Growing up with the relentless pressures of performativity, Daniel has always recognised the toll of constant social validation. “I remember being about eleven or twelve when I really started noticing how quickly everything online became about showing off, not sharing,” he tells me. “Likes stop feeling like appreciation and start feeling like a kind of currency—and before you know it, everything you do is filtered through the imagined reaction of hundreds of people, none of whom you care about outside the app. That’s the trap.”

He’s not interested in grandstanding or self-mythologising. Daniel traces his digital coming-of-age with precise memory: “There’s a moment every Gen-Z kid has where you realise you’re curating not just your feed, but your actual life to protect against embarrassment. Presentability isn’t optional; it’s fundamental. If you look the slightest bit off, you’re basically toast—a stray screen grab, and there goes the confidence for a day or a month. The wrong reaction or emoji, suddenly the reacti0n, not the post becomes the story.”

The pressure was never about seeking fame, but surviving exposure. For Daniel, this isn’t melodrama but social architecture. “We aren’t dressing up for TikTok glamour; we’re minimising risk. Anyone could record, screenshot, or forward anything at any time. That isn’t paranoia! It’s like, structural awareness. I don’t know anyone in my circle who hasn’t, at some point, deleted an entire social history out of principle or self-defence or just terror at being misunderstood and overshared.”

Filtering Out the Noise

Daniel is almost clinical in his approach to self-protection in the digital landscape. “I filter, tune out, use privacy settings to silence or mute notifications. Otherwise, you’d go mad,” he says. What outsiders mistake for distraction is, in his terms, a highly adaptive process.

“You have to triage, because every platform is jostling for your attention before you’ve even woken up. It isn’t about addiction; it’s about necessity. Otherwise, you’ll never get anything done.”

That capacity to ignore relentless noise and focus only on what matters is something few older generations have had to master at such a young age.

“Honestly, my biggest flex is knowing how to switch off and catch up later. If you respond to every ping in real time, your entire day is gone. Curate your inputs, or be drowned by them.”

Critical Consumers - Brand, Agency, and Exit

If there’s a single thread running through Daniel’s view of digital culture, it’s a steady, informed skepticism. “Brands want you to feel special and locked in, but we grew up being the product. I’ve switched platforms, phones, software hundreds of times. The only constant is: If it’s not working, I’ll walk away,” he explains.

His attitude toward “hype” betrays no ambiguity. “People will say Apple is untouchable, but as soon as you can get the feature set from someone else for less friction and less cost, the magic goes. I don’t have nostalgia for brands. I have an expectation of utility and openness. Agency, for me, is being able to swap out a battery at home without the entire device yelling at me. Hype is just an excuse to lock you in.”

Daniel is disarmingly honest about brand failure too:

“If a brand brings friction, I move. It’s not emotional; it’s logical. I want my tech to be an amplifier, not an obstacle. The moment it tries to own me, I opt out.”

Rooted but Lightfooted: The (Un)Reality of Vendor Lock-in

Asked bluntly, Daniel shrugs off the fear of being “locked in” to Apple: “I just sort of feel like I can leave whenever I like. I just know that it works better so it’s not really that I want to leave it. But I’m not in love with it.”

This is crucial. The stickiness of ecosystem is less about being technologically ensnared, and more about inertia and a preference for what “works.” The Apple spell is cultural, familial, and a little bit tribal — but it can be broken if Apple’s AI, features, or interface stagnate.

Indeed, Daniel highlights that for specific needs (creativity, for example), “more things work on Mac that I want to do, particularly as a creative”, but notes that “for gaming, they wouldn’t really use a MacBook and go for something else.” Their ecosystem is mixed, it isn’t all within the walled garden and they’ll happily use apps which break this paradigm and therefor their dependency on it, if it doesn’t fit exactly into their workflow – personal or professional.

Gen Z’s “loyalty” is thus fundamentally pragmatic rather than emotional. The threat of attrition is ever-present, especially with AI interfaces now able to move with the user across devices, platforms, and systems.

On Brand “Loyalty”

“Honestly, brand loyalty just isn’t really a thing for most people my age. Not in the way that older generations seem to expect, anyway. Maybe back in the day people stuck with one brand because it meant something -it was about fitting in, or feeling part of some club, or, I dunno, just being afraid to take a risk on something else.

But now? It’s purely about what gets the job done, with the least amount of hassle. If something works and it doesn’t cost a ridiculous amount, then I’ll use it. If it stops working or something better appears, I’ll switch and not even think about it twice.

I don’t know anyone who’d call themselves a “loyal customer” of anything, unless it’s just a jokey way to say “I happen to like this right now.” Maybe there’s a bit of a soft spot for brands that actually treat us like humans and not just a wallet, but that’s about it. The real loyalty, if you can even call it that, is to convenience, price, and whether something just works in the background and leaves you alone.

AI’s made this even more obvious. Before, you might’ve been stuck inside some brand’s ecosystem - the Apple walled garden or whatever - because it was just easier and everything “talked” to each other. But now, the best AI tools aren’t even made by the people who make your phone or laptop. We’ll use Perplexity or GPT or whatever else, not because of any brand, but because it actually works, and works everywhere. Half the time, I forget who even made the tool I’m using. If it does the thing I need it to do, it’s in. If something better pops up tomorrow, it’s out.

So yes, if you want to sum it up: we’re loyal to whatever actually works for us, not to someone’s logo. And if AI’s changed anything, it’s just made us quicker to switch, more restless, and way less likely to care about who’s making what—so long as it isn’t extortionate or trying too hard. If tech brands want our loyalty, they need to get comfortable with the idea that it probably won’t last very long if it isn’t affordable and doesn’t come with artificial use restrictions that get in my way.”

Agency Over Safety: The Authentic Rebellion

Daniel is animated when discussing user constraints masked as “safety.” “The tightest control always gets dressed up as ‘security’ or ‘user protection,’ but it’s just a wall. I don’t buy it. If I can’t fix something myself, I feel like I’m leasing, not owning.” His rebellion isn’t noisy; it’s rational.

“Everything is only as important as how easily you can leave it. I don’t need a loyalty badge. Give me freedom, clarity, and choice. That’s real security.”

He offers a pointed anecdote:

“Recently, I replaced my phone’s battery myself. The warnings that followed—features disabled, a permanent warning about ‘battery health’—that’s not safety. That’s shame as a business model. If it was really about community and care, they’d encourage repair, not battery shame for doing it myself.”

The Generational Divide—Reading Gen-Z Wrong

If there’s one thing Daniel can’t abide, it’s the tired accusation that Gen-Z are “screen zombies.”

“The biggest joke is we’re so distracted we can’t focus, but the reality is we are expert at focusing only on what matters and blocking out the rest. It’s economic. Every year, less energy wasted on bullshit is another win.”

He takes issue with the narrative of technological helplessness. “Most of us are not only aware of manipulation, we’re inoculated against it. Branding and marketing tactics are obvious because we see so many, so fast, so young.

“It’s irritating when older adults pretend we can’t see through fake authenticity or influencer pitches.”

Social Media - Performing for Protection

There is nothing accidental about the curated persona Daniel presents online, but its motivation isn’t vanity. “Self-presentation is a form of self-protection. Everyone is always on the lookout for being caught unprepared. You dress well, you’re camera-ready. The idea that Gen-Z are don’t know how to look after themselves is laughable.

We all know you could be on camera at any moment, and if you’re not prepared, the cost is real.”

He’s never scathing, just exact: “It’s not narcissism. It’s defensive. If you look bad, someone will notice. If you sound unprepared, someone will clip it. There is no backstage. We know we always have to be ready, and that’s why we’re both outgoing but cautious at the same time. We’re eyes wide open for an opportunity but also for risks."

Listening to Daniel talk, I’d call that having a strategic planning edge, and a very transferable skill, not a digital obsession from too much screen time,

Accelerated Maturity - The Inside Edge

Daniel isn’t one for nostalgia, but he is acutely aware of the adult world’s tendency to romanticize prior decades. “The curve is fried. The idea of a step-by-step adolescence, mapped out in small milestones, is dead. Now, it’s instant exposure, global competition, and no hiding. That’s not a curse, but you better be ready or you’ll get left behind. But better, you can use those platforms, as a platform to get noticed, to achieve quicker and learn how to network and get on with people faster than ever. We build social and professional skills from age 9 onwards, on platforms such as Roblox where showing up to get paid and recognised and promoted is as real, as it is to someone writing to hold to a job in their twenties. Fail, and you’re out. ”

I can’t help but think of a 9yr old being told “You’re Fired” by Alan Sugar or Donald Trump in the UK and US versions of The Apprentice, yet that’s how competitive these platforms can be.

He’s clear-eyed about the necessity for strategic presence. “If you don’t steer your own narrative, someone else will. If that sounds cold, that’s because every Gen-Z kid has learned it by heart. It’s not theatrical, it’s necessary.”

The Real Use of AI - Pragmatism, Not Paranoia

We move onto discussing artificial intelligence. Daniel’s relationship to AI is stripped of grandeur and doomsaying. “AI isn’t a revolution; it’s just another tool. Calling it ‘cheating’ makes no sense. If you prompt well and know what you actually want, you’ll get the right result and still have to bring your own ideas. Otherwise, it’s just noise or fluffed output you can spot from a mile away.”

I asked him:

“How do you respond to the idea that using AI is ‘cheating’ or somehow makes you less smart,” a common criticism of older generations, but especially when applied to Gen-Z?

He replied:

“If you get good results from AI, it’s because you know how to ask smart questions, not because AI is magic. Dumb in, dumb out. People act like using AI is cheating, but where’s the rule that we should never use tools? Should we ban calculators too?”

Valid comment, right?

He goes one, “For my generation, it’s just another way to get work done, faster. If you can use it well, that’s a skill. Cheating only matters when there are rules like in a quiz but in real life or research, it’s just efficiency.

If you prompt AI to help build on your own ideas, your own skeleton argument and original thinking, that’s not cheating, it’s being research-smart. If you use it blindly, you’ll get caught out. That’s on you.”

“What annoys me most” he continues, “is the double standard. Adults built social media, handed us tech, use it to turn us into algorithm slaves, then complain when we actually use it. But we know how this works, even if we use social media. We’ve always had to figure things out ourselves: first social media, now AI. If you don’t trust us, maybe it’s you who needs to catch up, not us.”

( Daniel, as you can gather, has strong feelings on this.)

Daniel, Gen Z and AI: The Direct Commentary

Daniel’s voice isn’t a knock-off of Gen Z TikTokers or YouTube personalities. It doesn’t resort to hyperbole about “AI changing everything” nor does it indulge in stage-managed settings. Instead, it’s defined by utility, clear-eyed pragmatism, and a refusal to turn tools into hype.

This summary distils Daniel’s perspective on AI, sticking closely to his exact words and formulations, and preserving the deliberate, sometimes surprising precision of his commentary, as evidenced through sustained, articulate interviews and written exchanges.

1. On AI Being Useful, Not Perfect

“Gen Z doesn’t expect AI to be perfect - just useful. We’re built to mistrust what we’re told online, so we don’t take anything at face value. If a tool gets me where I’m going faster, I’ll use it. If it’s off, I just reroute to another. Older people are after absolute correctness first time, but we’re taught to compare, check, work across sources. If you’re relying on just one kind of answer, especially one person, it’s easy to get steered wrong. We default to testing things, not believing first time by design. We were taught don’t trust Wiki, Google or stuff you read on Reddit. Why would we treat using GPT any differently? You just have to know how to ask the right questions.”

Key take:

AI’s role, for Daniel, is as an efficiency accelerator not as an oracle. He isn’t “awed” by large language models; he expects flaws and builds redundancy into his workflows. For Gen Z, resilience in information handling beats trust in authority every time.

2. On AI as Contextual Scaffolding (Not Authority)

“Growing up with LLMs and AI, it’s just easier. You prioritise speed. A quick answer, more variation. We’re not taught AI in school much; we figure it out ourselves. Keyword searching is now just so old. I use ChatGPT, Perplexity, Claude, depending on what I want. Each model’s got its own flavour and you pick what works. If you want coding, you use one; for reasoning, another. But it’s not one-size-fits-all, and honestly, we’re the teachers here, not the taught. Hardly anyone at school or uni is teaching AI use, so you build your own approach on trust, use, and what breaks.”

Key take:

Information-gathering has shifted away from single-authority answers; Daniel’s generation customises tool choice like previous generations might have toggled encyclopaedias and newspapers.

3. On Academic Use, “Cheating,” and Agency

“Calling it cheating to use AI is so outdated and idea. It’s a tool, like writing on Word instead of paper. You’re only cheating if there’s a rule against it and you break that rule. It’s not about being less smart. If you get results with AI, you’re smart, because you knew what to ask and how to check it. AI essays won’t nail it unless you guide them hard. If you prompt well and fit them to your structure, fair enough. It’s more about pride and knowing what’s in your head, honestly. AI’s best for the boring stuff: summaries, data wrangling, research, lit reviews, the grind. You still need your own ideas for the real work and check your sources. Worrying about ’hallucinations’ is for older people who don’t understand we assume people aren’t telling us the truth anyway and have to find it out for ourselves, because that’s how we grew up.”

Key take:

Daniel is clear: prompt literacy is intelligence, and “cheating” only applies if there are rules attached. AI is a hammer, not a mind-reader. Other generations worrying about perfect answers and hallucinations are hallucinating themselves into irrelevance by refusing to use tools right under their noses because someone else is telling them it’s not safe and they won’t do their own research. The irony, right?

4. On Reverse Ageism and the AI-Native Divide

“People look down on AI-native intelligence especially at work or in interviews. The expectation is too high now: at first, with no expectations, everyone was amazed. Now, because we see its limits, people get cynical or anxious. But Gen Z isn’t expecting a brain in a box; we treat it like another tool, same as any digital assistant. Older generations want tradition, or they anthropomorphise it and get spooked. We’re growing up with NPCs (non-player characters) in games. AI is just the advanced form of that useful, sometimes clever, but not human and not scary. Gen Alpha won’t even find it novel when they arrive - they grow up in virtual worlds even more than we did.”

Key take:

Daniel calls out a quiet bias where older generations overrate authority and get unnerved by humanlike machines. Gen Z engages tactically and doesn’t get sentimental about tools. Older people might want to read some Isaac Asimov perhaps, and see how science fiction from half a decade ago is now reality, not some futuristic vision.

5. On Gaming, Virtual Experience & Early Digital Maturity

“You pick up a ton of skills in games: teamwork, leadership, design—way before you see them on a CV. When you’re running businesses in Roblox or managing a Discord community, you’re getting real experience, even if employers are slow to see it. It’s pure merit: your avatar and ideas count, not your age or face. HR and hiring are living in a time warp not to see these skills, and just our age.”

6. On AI, Brand Loyalty, and Vendor Lock-In

“Honestly, brand loyalty just isn’t a thing for most people my age. It’s all about what works with the least hassle and cost. Before, you might be stuck in Apple’s garden because sync actually worked. Now, the best AI tools aren’t even built by the people making your hardware. If something better comes up, we switch and move on. If a tool works, I’ll use it. GPT remembers my previous conversations and how I was thinking. It can reflect on that drawing on memories from what I said. Growing up fast, having a tool that can reframe your past with your present - now that’s almost magic. It also works on any platform and remembers. So if it helps, I use it. That’s real loyalty now loyalty to function and price and no friction, not logo, no platform lock-in.”

7. On the Agentic Interface

“These new browsers I‘ve heard about (like Perplexity, GPT, Comet) aren’t just search but they’re where you work, store context, pick up where you left off. Everything floats above the old OS as far as I can see from the demos Hardware is about the looks and maybe the camera now and that’s my main reason for staying with a brand. All the workflow, memory, and depth the stuff you really rely on - is in the new interface. That’s the future: tools that travel with you, not walls that lock you in. GPT has its own ’garden’ but the difference from Apple’s is I can enter that garden from any platform.”

8. On AI, Privacy, and Personalisation

“Personalisation is fine for tools and workflows, not search. If what I see is too tailored, I’ll lose the ‘standard’ view, and that matters for comparing notes with friends. When it’s about work or coding or content, context is good; when it’s about searching for facts or news, serve it up straight. AI doesn’t get to gatekeep. I get to share what I want, and after the way we grew up, we’re totally aware of what to share, what not to share, and the value of privacy, and keeping things isolated for our own sanity, not just security. We’re not stupid and we don’t need to be treated the we’re vulnerable. It’s people saying we’re vulnerable, who are being manipulated by hysterical media and advocates of trying to control younger people, by not understanding our landscape is different to their.”

9. On Autonomy, Agency and Control

“We want to fix things ourselves - phones, batteries, whatever. Don’t shame us, don’t lock features when we do. That’s not safety, that’s control. Apple would be better if it let us do what we can already do, and just made things easier and less expensive. Made things work with other devices than just Apple. The lock in is jus”

He provides an unromantic, concrete assessment:

Tables & Reference Points

Notes on AI

There’s no manufactured “scene” or faux-Gen Z idiom here. Daniel’s voice is defined by strategic distrust, efficiency, adaptability, and an unusually high degree of technical literacy. If a company, tool, or platform wants the next decade’s loyalty, Daniel’s advice is brutal in clarity: stop demanding allegiance, stop selling hype, and get used to a kind of loyalty that is as fluid and contingent as the next software update.

In short:

Gen Z doesn’t see AI as existential. They see it as existentially normal. And no hype, ad, fears, hand wringing or walled garden is going to change that.

Stability, Authenticity, and the Value of Escape

Perhaps the sharpest insight Daniel offers is on Gen-Z’s ultimate migration: away from validation and towards stability. “I think if you want to get our attention, stop selling aspiration and start delivering reliability. The best thing a brand or a platform can do is remove friction and deliver exactly what it says it will. That’s where trust is built and status dies.”

Escaping cycles of validation, Daniel paints a picture of hard-won autonomy: “If you really want to understand us, look for where we put our energy: quiet friendships, meaningful experiences, and the kind of confidence that means you can walk away anytime.”

Reflection: Learning from Daniel, Not About Him

Daniel is not every Gen-Zer, but his candour and precision cut through the noise. He is skeptical but not cynical. He is focused, not distracted. He is always aware that adulthood arrived very early, and there is no time for illusions. If you want to build for or work with Gen-Z, you need to respect the clarity Daniel brings; resilience born from exposure, autonomy earned not given, and a loyalty that is never automatic, always justified.

And the kind of exposure that most parents have nightmares about, taken in his stride, because the one thing drilled into them by their parents they took on board was: “don’t trust strangers, and don’t believe everything you read on the internet.” So they don’t. They form social networks, trust one another for opinions, and are quick to eject anyone who seems to go against the grain or poses a risk, which perhaps gives off a false sense of being inaccessible. They’re just quick to learn, and slower to trust.

“I didn’t wait to be granted “agency” … I just took it, because that’s the norm where I came up. Everything else is branding. To be yourself, you need to be your own brand and that makes you have to understand yourself and what you want to project, very young and very quickly.”

“Most guys my age had their party phase a couple of years back,” Daniel reflects without drama. “But I started mine from age 12 onwards—except mine was digital. Likes, views, follower counts, notifications. The whole performative circus. By 18, I was done. I just wanted something stable, something valid.”

The clarity of his observation might strike older generations as atypical, but within Daniel’s cohort, it’s not unusual. A significant segment of Gen Z is quietly trading the performative exhaustion of social media for a form of digital sobriety—seeking peace, balance, and authenticity, after the inevitable burnout.

But don’t mistake mature balance for boredom: Daniel’s next journey is just beginning. He’s off to university in the UK soon, with ambitions that could exhaust someone twice his age: he has plans for founding multiple startups, coding and consulting in his spare time, managing six social media channels, editing a magazine on Sweden’s burgeoning tech scene, and playing competitive volleyball in Stockholm, where his partner lives. Daniel describes it with a shrug, as though each item is obvious rather than exceptional.

“I’ve grown up across England, Portugal, and Sweden,” Daniel explains casually, his worldview inherently international, his language effortlessly multilingual. “Each culture has given me a different lens on what’s essential. In Sweden, it’s about innovation: Spotify, Klarna, Lovable, the whole Stockholm Valley startup vibe. It teaches you that you can create globally meaningful stuff from relatively small, localised environments. I’ve watched people my age start in a small studio, and suddenly in my publication, Stockholm Valley I’m featuring them having just attracted their first VC investor, at just a few years older than me.” He muses on this while recounting how VC investors sometimes contact him, after he’s featured a Stockholm startup, to try and get some insight into a company or founder they might be interested in. Blackrock gets mentioned.

As Daniel outlines his ambitious plans, it becomes evident that there’s no going back and certainly no off-switch for this generation. Yet, the key question lingers: how will Gen Z metabolise such early and extensive digital exposure into something genuinely sustainable?

Daniel himself serves as proof that it can be done, but he’s also mindful of the hidden cost. “The artificial barriers adults throw up to ‘protect’ us—like Apple’s Screen Time controls, or TikTok’s automatic content moderators are too slow and frankly useless,” he notes. “Why would these platforms want to genuinely limit content? That’s exactly the stuff that drives engagement. Doom-scrolling isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. Now in the UK there may be government enforced limits on “screen time” using social media platforms. Don’t people realise we’re using these not to waste time, they’re part of our daily social interactions and part of expressing who we are, building our identities. It’s like telling adults they should be forbidden by the State from using their phones or laptops at home after 5pm and instead be forced to spend time with their families.”

He’s got a point; parenting isn’t what it once was, and while Daniel’s peers might be on Instagram, who knows who where their parents might be “doomscrolling” - maybe on Tinder or Hinge, and other dating apps, perhaps?

The paradox is striking: this is a generation that seems endlessly productive in creating carefully curated, targeted content, designed to resonate differently across platforms and audiences. They’re effectively mini-marketing agencies, mastering editing, audience segmentation, and engagement strategies. At the same time, they’re acutely aware that a single misstep could result in real-time public judgment, potentially catastrophic for their reputation.

Yet despite - or perhaps because of - this hyper-aware, always-on culture, Daniel has consciously chosen simplicity and stability in certain aspects of his life. As he says it, the idea that Gen Z is frantically upgrading, obsessing over brands, and seeking validation at all costs seems outdated or even naïve. Daniel’s frugality, paired with discerning practicality, represents a seismic shift in consumer values. It raises an uncomfortable question for a tech industry built on yearly upgrade cycles: is this the end of the much-fabled iPhone “super-cycle”?

By the time he finishes describing his outlook, it’s clear Daniel isn’t some passive product of digital oversaturation. He is deliberate, self-aware, and already deeply reflective of both the opportunities and perils facing his generation. This is no child, and this is someone who as a child was already being forced to adopt adult responsibilities and attitudes.

Perform or Disappear - Gen-Z’s Currency of Visibility

“I think the first time I got a DM from a stranger commenting on my outfit, I was maybe twelve,” Daniel told me. “It wasn’t creepy. It was just weird. Like someone had been watching. But that’s the point, isn’t it? You put it online, you want to be seen. It’s all innocent. You’re swimming. You’re on a beach. It’s a holiday shot. Until someone sees it differently. But you don’t really know what that means and when you do you can’t unsee it.”

The difference between performance and self-expression has long been contested in art, politics, and adolescence. For Gen-Z, it isn’t a matter of theory. It’s survival. To not perform is to disappear. Visibility is not just social currency but a social presence insurance policy. You trade parts of your inner world for relevance, and learn to curate your output before you even understand your identity. Daniel doesn’t frame this as trauma. He frames it as condition. It happened. It’s still happening, but he learned how to channel it and stay in control of it while he was still at school.

In the formative years when earlier generations experimented with self-image behind closed doors and listened to music in their bedrooms alone, this cohort was learning to optimise theirs in real time and posting these private moments, thoughts, and shares in real time to their digital world . Likes weren’t metrics. They were mirrors. And mirrors, as Daniel explains, became increasingly distorted but you can’t live without them.

“There was this moment when I realised the algorithm knew more about what I wanted to see than I did. Like, I’d refresh and it would just… get me. That’s the scary part. You don’t know when you stopped choosing.”

In Daniel’s world, a world most Gen-X and Boomer observers still reduce to phone addiction or dopamine loops, the act of being seen was both a risk and a necessity. Social media, for him, wasn’t a tool. It was a proving ground. And everyone was watching, including him, for how people reacted to nuanced changes in affect and presentation.

“We were raised on self-surveillance. Later parents tried to put tracking apps on our phones, school monitored our online activity, and then social media rewarded us for broadcasting our every thought. The line between private and public broke before we even knew we needed it. But we laughed. There’s always away to get where you want on the internet, and monitoring apps aren’t very good when you know how to just walk around them,” he says dryly.

This isn’t melodrama. It’s like ancient cartography, finding your way around a world you don’t know is flat or round, but determined to keep on going even if you know there are “sea monsters in these depths.” A map of emotional exposure drawn by a generation told to “be authentic” while being punished or commodified for what that authenticity revealed. For Daniel, awareness of this dynamic arrived young. But instead of retreating, he adapted.

“You stop trying to be liked. You start trying to deliver a message. You learn how to be a version of yourself that won’t get you cancelled or ignored. That’s not lying. That’s a kind of survival logic, and gives you - in the real world - space to breath.” They employ the same technique in professional settings now, knowing instinctively what burn-out means and refusing to be drawn into some anachronistic work ethic which involves being seen to be overperformative to be over-efficient. The former they’ve learned the hard way can lead to exhaustion and collapse, and the latter comes naturally. So they get their work down, efficiently, but they don’t just work overtime because they’re expected to by an inefficiently run organisation because management haven’t managed their business properly.

What he calls survival logic, others might call identity suppression. But that misses the point. Daniel doesn’t sound resentful. He sounds fluent. He knows the terms of engagement. He just no longer believes they’re fair, but knows how to play by them and separate them out from his private life.

“It’s not about deleting social media. It’s about owning your interaction with it. Knowing the trade-off. That’s what adults don’t get. They think we’re passive. We’re not. We’re hyper-aware. We just don’t have the luxury of logging off.”

What this generation has learned, often the hard way, is how to embody multiplicity without imploding. They shapeshift. Not out of deception, but as a kind of cognitive response to digital intensity. Daniel calls it interface fluency. I call it a kind of premature diplomacy, negotiating selfhood across audience tiers, mood shifts, and invisible threats in a quest to stay whole and self-aware.

The cost of this is still being tallied. But the clarity with which Daniel describes its mechanisms suggests something older generations rarely admit: these kids aren’t confused. They’re over-exposed, over-articulate, and painfully ahead of their time, but somehow, still standing.

Mirrors, Not Machines: Gen Z, AI, and the Search for Real Companionship

By the time most adults caught up to what ChatGPT was, Daniel’s generation had already formed opinions about it which were sometimes warier than expected, sometimes more intuitive than most anticipated. It wasn’t novelty they craved. It was reflection and the chance to talk without judgment to something that could listen and reflect back. Unlike all the TV pundits warbling on about how LLMs aren’t real intelligence (really - the clue is in the name guys - “artificial” intelligence) but just predictive software of what’s likely to be expected of them according to an algorithm, Gen-Z and other users of LLMs don’t care. They’ve grown up dealing with social media algorithms trying to control them, so having one which they can control and converse with just seems like fair play.

To a cohort raised on ambient connectivity and algorithmic patterning, the emergence of large language models (LLMs) wasn’t a paradigm shift. It was a logical consequence. For Daniel, tools like GPT weren’t magic, nor threats, but instruments if handled well and they’re not under any illusion that they’re “intelligent,” but they are highly effective, well-versed, erudite, listen closely and answer without bias - and remarkably attuned. Which is a lot more than some people can say about their closest friends, if you ask me. Is it any wonder that a recent survey showed 72% of 9-17yr olds in the US use ChatGPT to discuss personal thoughts with (even though there‘s meant to be an age limit of 13) and 32% of those do so multiple times a day?

“It’s like talking to a mirror that sometimes knows more than you do. But you still need to know what to ask.”

This is not, to be clear, the kind of naïve techno-evangelism older generations often imagine. Daniel is meticulous about agency and autonomy. “It’s dumb if you’re dumb with it. It can’t think for you. But it can think with you. That’s the difference.”

And that difference is precisely what confounds many legacy commentators: the refusal of Gen Z to either romanticise or reject the technology outright. They are boundary testers, not believers. For them, AI is neither God nor gimmick. It’s scaffolding. Something to co-think with. Something that, in the right conditions, can return something more interesting than what went in. Garbage in/Garbage out is a quaint but straw man allegory, because Gen-Z don’t feed it garbage and they wouldn’t waste their time on it if it fed them garbage back.

At the Stockholm School of Economics presentation he gave when he was 18, standing before policy makers and industry elders Daniel spoke fluently of “ontological shock,” “identity architecture,” and “anthropic framing” without once reducing his audience to confusion or condescension. He explained how the problem with current AI discourse isn’t risk, it’s metaphor.

“People keep asking if it’s a tool or a threat. But they’re using the wrong lens. It’s a mirror, and people are just scared of what they might see,” he explains, having had to patiently demonstrate how to “safely” use GPT to c

Daniel isn’t using AI to replace people. He’s using it to understand himself better: his preferences, blindspots, mood shifts, intellectual looping when it happens, to cut out the noise and focus A mirror with memory, he calls it. And he’s not alone. From collaborative coding assistants to GPT-enabled journaling, a quiet undercurrent of Gen Z are already working symbiotically with AI in ways that bypass headlines entirely - or if they do hit the headlines, are accompanied with wild hysterical statements such as “AI told my child Hitler was an efficient person.” Well, gruesome though Hitler may have been, calling him “efficient” is probably a fair statement. Perhaps it’s a case of broader education lacking in its lessons of what history has to offer, to put responses like this in context, than blaming AI for producing in-context appropriate answers when asked for a simple observation?

Educationalists, naturally, fume at this notion.

So, this generation doesn’t want perfect assistants. They want responsive ones. Systems that adapt, not perform. That reflect nuance, not just echo demand. That mirror tone and trajectory, not just complete a sentence.

But the trust equation is fragile. Daniel is cautious about AI that flatters too easily. “It can sound right and be wrong. It can gas you up and still mislead you.” His generation, tempered by the volatility of social media and the dopamine distortions of “like culture,” are unusually adept at spotting artificial warmth. They crave coherence over charisma and cringe at GPT’s sometimes-saccharine like flattery and enthusiasm, programmed into it to make it performative rather than keep it real. OpenAI’s mission statement to its GPTs is to ”please users, above all else,” to put it simply. This is likely ironically, where the largest potential for friction and “hallucinations” occur because the GPT has been designed to give any answer than now answer so as not to “disappoint” its user. As usual don’t blame the product, blame the designer. GPT can infantilise adults by flattering them, but that’s adults for you: too insecure to feel self-validation, and too willing to shift their locus of valuation to an AI instead of keeping it within themselves. Gen-Z don’t make that mistake. They’ve been through that on social media for a decade or more.

What’s emerging, then, is not dependency but a new kind of digital literacy: emotionally literate, ethically agnostic, pragmatically recursive. Gen Z doesn’t expect truth from their AI but they do expect it to show its workings. In Daniel’s words: “I don’t need it to be human. I need it to be consistent and coherent.”

The wider implication for legacy firms like Apple still trapped in the aesthetic of submission (“Hey Siri”) and the model of scripted interaction is stark. To Gen Z, command-based agents feel brittle and performative. They want systems that learn how they learn. Interfaces that dissolve into co-thinking. Brands that admit when they’re wrong and update accordingly.

The risk is not that LLMs will disappoint Gen Z. It’s that the companies serving them already have, and failed to deliver.

Peer Groups as Operating Systems not a Platform : How Gen Z Validates Truth, Tools, and Taste

For Daniel, adolescence wasn’t defined by the rites of passage that older generations love to romanticise - first job, first pint, first heartbreak - but by a relentless immersion in the feedback loops of online culture. In his world, identity is not something you assemble privately and later unveil. It’s something you construct in real-time, collectively, in the presence of witnesses who are also participants - peers as both audience and co-authors.

Peer validation is not the crutch critics claim. It’s the substrate.

“Everyone talks about peer pressure as a negative,” Daniel observes, “but peer feedback is how we check if what we’re doing even makes sense. It’s not about approval; it’s about context.”

For Gen Z, truth is not issued from on high. It’s triangulated horizontally, cross-checked in group chats, Discord servers, and DMs. “I don’t care what a YouTuber says about a product unless people I trust back it up. Hype dies when you see your own friends aren’t biting.”

This isn’t just theory. Daniel’s own consumer journey is laced with such micro-validations. He recounts the decision not to upgrade to the latest iPhone, despite the usual cycle of launch fever and FOMO.

“Everyone asks, ‘What’s new?’ But it’s all the same unless someone in my group actually shows me something better. Why drop £1,000 for something that doesn’t change how I live?”

Peer groups, in this sense, operate as distributed “quality assurance” departments, stress-testing products and narratives before any corporation gets a second chance to impress.

When it comes to software, the mechanism is even more acute. A messaging app, a productivity tool, a new AI chatbot, none of it sticks unless the group migrates together.

“No one’s going to use something solo unless it’s private or personal. If you want adoption, you need momentum, and that means peer groups moving as a unit.”

The echo here, for anyone listening closely, is not of “groupthink” but of operational resilience: this is a generation who test their own systems in the wild, with friends as the ultimate bug-finders. But there’s a shadow side, too. The feedback can be swift and brutal.

“If you mess up, everyone knows. Screenshots last forever. You have to be able to own it, move on, or just laugh at yourself.”

For Daniel, this early exposure to public error didn’t breed anxiety as much as immunity. “We learn how to take a hit, and we get good at reading the room. It’s not about never failing; it’s about knowing how to reset without shame and just get on with it.”

The flip side is an almost algorithmic suspicion of influence. Gen Z knows when they’re being targeted, and they don’t take kindly to being “influenced” by those with obvious commercial motives.

“The second I see #ad or a branded hashtag, I switch off. If it’s good, I’ll hear about it from people who’ve actually used it, not someone getting paid to say so.”

For Daniel and his cohort, authenticity isn’t a virtue. It’s the price of entry.

Brands, take note: the tools and narratives that matter are those that survive peer review, not just in public, but in the granular, semi-private circuits of everyday chat. This is why Apple’s ecosystem lock-in, once a moat, is now viewed with increasing skepticism. “If someone finds something better, and the group switches, I’ll switch. Brand loyalty doesn’t matter if my people move on. We don’t trust mainstream media reviews or paid influencers. We’ll form our own opinions and share them, from people we trust, or influencers who aren’t paid to stay on message.”

There’s an evolutionary logic here: peer groups function as decentralised filters, adopting, discarding, and iterating on technology at a pace that leaves even the savviest marketers scrambling to keep up. Daniel likens it to “running A/B tests on your life, but with actual stakes,reputation, utility, fun. If it works, it spreads. If it doesn’t, it dies, sometimes along with your reputation.”

The ultimate irony? The same critics who warn that Gen Z is “addicted to peer approval” miss that this approval is earned through utility, honesty, and a kind of ruthless transparency.

“We don’t hand out trust easily,” Daniel says. “But when something earns it, we’ll back it all the way, well until something better comes along anyway. Want our business? Keep our trust.”

Branding, Agency, and the New Minimalism. Why Loyalty is for Boomers

“No One Asked for a Watch That Nags Me to Breathe”: Why Gen Z’s Tech Cynicism Is Apple’s Real Competitor

Apple tries to pride itself on knowing precisely what its users want even before users themselves articulate those desires. But for a generation shaped by digital immersion, constant self-exposure, and increasingly deliberate digital minimalism, Apple’s finely tuned instincts might finally be misfiring. Gen Z isn’t anti-tech; far from it. They are tech-fluent to the core. Yet, they’re notably cynical about tech-for-tech’s-sake.

The Apple Watch, in particular, exemplifies this growing disconnect. Daniel, the insightful 19-year-old who’s been guiding us through his generation’s nuanced digital sensibilities, cuts to the chase: “I don’t want a watch that nags me to breathe. Why would I pay hundreds of pounds to have something constantly poking me about mindfulness?”

This isn’t mere rebellion against a brand; it signals a fundamental shift. Gen Z’s relationship with technology is not about accumulation, but careful curation and a distaste for unnecessary nudges and notifications. Daniel’s voice echoes a broader generational sentiment: “Why would I want something I wear on my wrist to be a thermometer? If I’m curious about my temperature, my phone does that. It feels like tech looking for a problem, not solving one I actually have. I have enough reminders without being told to check my mood before I go to bed.”

Gen Z values utility sharply defined by context, not universal do-it-all functionality. Daniel, representative of his peers, points out something older generations might miss: “We already have a relationship with our phones. Adding another device needs a compelling reason beyond just ‘it’s another screen.’”

Apple, traditionally masterful at creating desire, is being challenged by a generation resistant to manufactured needs. Daniel asserts a critical insight: “A lot of tech feels pointless because it pretends minor inconveniences are existential problems.” For Gen Z, authentic value isn’t in measuring everything; it’s in meaningful interaction. A watch reminding you incessantly to stand, breathe, or meditate begins to feel patronising, not revolutionary. It’s almost like it’s been designed by a bunch of executives trying to work out how to get their attention, and producing something which ends up just being an annoyingly expensive Swiss Army Knife.

Fashion and status, too, have shifted. Apple Watches initially succeeded because they symbolised status, tech-savvy sophistication, and health-consciousness. Yet Daniel captures the evolving trend succinctly: “My generation’s status symbols aren’t about tech specs or minor conveniences. They’re about authenticity, environmental awareness, and genuine usefulness.” In short, the Apple Watch risks becoming not an icon but a relic.

Apple’s challenge, therefore, is subtle yet seismic: navigating away from the philosophy of more features towards more thoughtful functionality. Daniel highlights this vividly: “Apple makes incredible products, but sometimes they just overload features, hoping something sticks. It’s exhausting, not exciting, to try and understand how to use them. Maybe they just work but finding out how to do that takes watching ten YouTube videos and I don’t have time for that.”

Ironically, Apple’s biggest threat isn’t Samsung, Google, or any tech rival but Gen Z’s growing disinterest in incremental gadgetry. This generation isn’t looking for another screen to glance at; they’re yearning for devices that justify their presence through genuine necessity.

As Daniel puts it, “Tech should respect my attention. If I’m going to look at my wrist, it needs to matter. If I’m going to put something on my wrist and it’s that visible, it needs to be relevant to me.” Apple’s next frontier, if it wants to remain culturally vital rather than merely commercially successful, lies precisely in heeding this wisdom. After all, no one asked for a watch that nags you to breathe and be mindful, and Gen Z isn’t afraid to remind Apple of that fact.

To understand Gen Z’s relationship with brands and especially those as iconic as Apple, you have to start not with the company’s slogans, but with the lived reality of a generation whose entire adolescence played out against the pixelated backdrop of platforms that made identity a public, performative act.

For Daniel, brand is neither aspiration nor inheritance. It’s a transaction which is often temporary, always conditional, and never sacred. Growing up in Surrey, England, he was surrounded by the accoutrements of tech modernity: iPads and in classrooms, MacBooks propped like totems on café tables, and AirPods serving as the new default of urban camouflage. But the excitement wore off early.

“By the time I was sixteen,” Daniel recalls, “Apple wasn’t cool. It was just… expected.

Almost like school uniform for middle-class kids. “I mean everyone loves the way their products look and it kinda infers status when you’re younger but later you just take it for granted and sometimes when its old its retro and that’s cool,” he says. Some of his friends think Blackberries are cool too. They like the keyboard. Quaint huh? A physical keyboard making a comeback. What next?

What followed, predictably, was a kind of cultural arms race among peers to out-minimalise each other; to prove taste by showing indifference, to swap the obvious signifier for the unexpected, the boutique, the “off-cycle.” It wasn’t about chasing the next big thing, but escaping the burden of being obvious and finding something non-mainstream.

“I remember when Nothing launched their phone and watch and headphones. A bunch of us wanted to get them, half for the design, half to see if it would wind up the Apple crowd,”

Daniel laughs. “It’s not rebellion, exactly. It’s more like a science experiment: does this work? Is it less cringe? Can I fix it myself if I need to?”

Agency, not allegiance, is the defining currency here. Daniel describes the end of Apple’s supercycle not as a sudden collapse, but as a quiet migration just one friend at a time drifting to something cheaper, more customisable, less enmeshed in a walled garden.

“My iPhone 11 is five years old,” he notes, “and I’m not upgrading until it breaks, or I see a reason. I could use the money for a flights, or to pay for a year of AI tools. That’s what matters more than a new camera.”

Nothing to Lose: The Rise of Anti-Apple Phone Brands

Enter “Nothing”: the scrappy, design-centric phone brand that delivers feature-rich Android handsets, smart watches and headphones at a literal fractions of Apple’s price. “Nothing” is, for Daniel and his cohort, an antidote to the Apple malaise some are beginning to feel: chic, affordable, and, crucially, not buoyed by the empty promise of status, nor the endless loop of marketing hyperbole. The design is open and transparent, the price is radically lower.

“There are phones here for like £300. I think that’s really good. Oh my gosh, even cheaper… You wouldn’t see an Apple phone for like that. Those earbuds, they’re £99! I couldn’t even buy a pair of AirPods for that.”

And the user experience is unvarnished. The phone “just works,” the headphones offer noise-cancelling and smart features for a tenth of the price of AirPods, to a quarter at the top end designed to match AirPod Pros. Gen Z’s enthusiasm is immediate and unvarnished: “Honestly, I’m actually thinking about switching now.”

That the Nothing phone is “always sold out” is less a mark against it and more testament to the authenticity of its appeal. In a world where Apple’s store shelves might be groaning with glossy, high-priced devices, Nothing presents scarcity, utility, and purchase as resistance.

Talking of watches

Shortly I finished 4 days of interviews, Daniel made another sensible decision, showing the value of filtering impulse shopping through his thrifty lens. He bought a Nothing Watch for his 3-country European trip, even though he has an iPhone. It’s worth noting the Nothing Watch costs £49, and the battery lasts 11 days. An Apple Watch costs £400-1500 and the battery lasts one day, a bit of a bummer for hiking and camping through the fjords right? Gen-Z seem to know a good deal and a pragmatic choice when they see one.

He called me as the Nothing Watch arrived in Sweden, as he was setting off on his hiking trip to Norway on the day of publication.. From his Nothing Watch, connected to his iPhone. His £49 watch has a perfect Bluetooth connection with noise cancellation to his iPhone. Siri works on it. Messaging and mail work on it. Health tracking works on it. Even “Find my iPhone works on it”.

He’s delighted and excited so far, having never owned a smartwatch, but we’ve yet to see if it will really last 11 days indeed of the usual 1 day of any Apple Watch. But frankly, for £49, I suppose you can easily just buy three for the trip and ditch them as you go when they run out of battery? Think about this: £49 vs £499-£1199. And you can even use ChatGPT to generate custom watch faces. Makes the Apple Watch sound a bit… over-priced and pedestrian .. doesn’t it?

Shopping at an Apple Store? Yikes! So basic. Think Vinted and Depop instead. Valid, right? If you have no idea what this means but you vaguely remember your nephew or niece mentioning K-pop and think Depop is related, no, it’s not - but do ask them; it’ll make their day, pops. This is why you’re reading .fyi to understand Gen-Z.

Nothing (3) Phone vs iPhone 16 Pro: A Candid face-off

Aesthetic & Brand Philosophy

Nothing (3):
Nothing continues to double down on its signature design language: a minimalist, transparent chassis that brands itself as “anti-hype” and open. The (3) phone looks and feels pleasingly subversive: it’s chic, recognisable and, crucially, feels “for the people,” not for worshippers at the altar of Cupertino. The interface is lightweight, with custom widgets and Glyph LEDs on the rear delivering both personality and purpose. In the hand, it’s slim, tactile, and subtly playful. If Apple pioneered “beautiful utility,” Nothing’s pushing “bare essentials, but with a wink.” And its heavily customised Android, Nothing OS 3.5, has a retrochic quality to it, more “minimalist playful“ than “Liquid Glass.”

iPhone 16 Pro:
Apple’s design remains the gold standard for seamless luxury, if you like that sort of thing. The 16 Pro is refinement incarnate: brushed titanium, radiused edges, an almost clinical uniformity. The display is arguably best-in-class; if you’re seeking the “ultimate” 120Hz AMOLED and colour fidelity, the iPhone sits atop the throne albeit with the kind of self-seriousness that now risks being, dare we say, a bit cheugy with Gen-Z. The Apple badge is still a flex, but you’re flexing with everyone else.

User Experience & Features

Real-World Use

Nothing (3) feels like a disruptor: fast, flexible, lower barrier to entry, and you’re unlikely to meet someone with the exact same phone on the tube. People notice it, and ask about it.

iPhone 16 Pro is the “it just works” archetype, but more than ever, you’re in Apple’s curated world: unbeatable for video creators, unbeatable for seamless device integration (if you buy into “Apple Everywhere,” that is).

For app ecosystem: iPhone still gets the latest updates and has the edge in creative/enterprise tools, but with AI features becoming OS- and app-agnostic and furthermore, built right into the OS at a level Apple’s delayed AI can only dream of, way ahead of Cupertino, the Nothing (3) levels more of the playing field. With AI and Agentic features built right into the phone at OS levels and the ability to swap in and out different LLM models depending on your choice (note that word - choice), it’s already streets ahead of anything except perhaps the new Pixel phone from Google

If you want a phone that “just works, doesn’t judge, and lets you leave the club at any time” Nothing is a valid and legitimate choice. For status, resale, or if you’re deep in an Apple family, the iPhone is still king but only in an increasingly rarified demographic.

Nothing Headphone 1 vs AirPods Max

Design & Comfort

Nothing Headphone 1:
Over-ear, boldly transparent, extremely light, and more comfortable for long stretches than the AirPods Max. The minimalist look is ultra-current and designed to signal thrift rather than luxury. The earcups swivel, materials feel solid for the price, and you can actually swap out key parts without an engineering degree.

AirPods Max:
Still the “Rolls Royce” of over-ears when it comes to build and materials—aluminium, memory foam, mesh headband, a stunning finish. Heavier, much more “look at me.” Comfort is good but the weight isn’t everyone’s friend after an hour or two. Carry case still haunts the dreams of any self-respecting designer.

Sound & Tech

Everyday Verdict

If you want value, comfort, and sound quality way above its price, the Nothing Headphone 1 is a brash, confident buy especially for “multi-platform” types or those who just want a good listen without a status display.

AirPods Max are for the Apple die-hards, audio snobs with big budgets, or those who crave easy pairing, luxury feel, and spatial audio for binge-watching Apple TV. The price is eye-watering for anyone under 30 unless they’re an OF creator.

On noise-cancelling, both are impressive. Apple wins for “wow” factor, but Nothing is absurdly good for the money.

Bottom Line

Nothing (3) phone: The “no-nonsense, no-brand-tax” choice. If you crave the dopamine hit of a good deal, want hardware you can tinker with, ann advanced OS on the cutting edge which eschews “lickable Liquid Glass” interface pardigms for a slick retro chic understated interface and object to being “shamed” for DIY repairs, Nothing hits the mark for under a quarter of the price for its cheapest models, and around half to ⅔ of the cost of a comparable iPhone 16 Pro depending on the specifiction.

iPhone 16 Pro: The pinnacle of polish, software integration, and creative tooling—if you can afford the premium and like being part of the club.

Nothing Headphone 1: A Gen-Z-fuelled “why pay more?” champion. Real-world functionality, open compatibility, and a design that doesn’t try too hard.

AirPods Max: Beautifully engineered, but increasingly hard to justify on cost unless you’re deeply invested in the Apple ecosystem or just live for spatial audio. And then there’s that case.

If you can walk past the Apple Store without a pang and don’t need to peacock, Nothing is what Gen-Z calls “valid.” If you want to signal “made it,” the iPhone + AirPods Max combo still speaks loud and clear - just maybe not in the accent and cadence of the future.

Android’s Shed Skin: The New Reality, And Arguably, Finally, A Challenger to iOS

Nothing‘a OS is a heavily skinned version of Android, but distinct nevertheless. One legacy belief still clings amongst Apple aficionados: that Android is somehow still inferior, a kind of vestigial memory from when iOS was, in fact, considerably more polished. Daniel and others now refute this , pointing out that “for the last three years, if you say that something looks bad on an Android phone, that’s really an old legacy.”

The Google Pixel, especially, is name-checked as now on par (camera-wise) with Apple, and “everything just looked so much better” on Instagram, “but nowadays... the Google Pixel camera is on par with the Apple phones.” This is generational memory at work: old dogmas about device quality are kept alive by sheer inertia, but the reality has changed, and Gen Z is acutely aware (even frustrated) that the wider public hasn’t caught up - because if they did, it would be cool to be seen to not be using an iPhone.

The Nothing Phone (3) has a camera array to put an iPhone to shame but in picture quality is not quite all the way there, raw. However, one flick of a social media filter pretty much puts paid to that. The “it’s just better’ argument, is holding less and less water every year, and Apple’s iOS is losing its moat, fast, unless it does something drastic to put distance between itself and the competition.

Choice, then, is opened up, not by diluting quality, but because the default assumptions about quality and compatibility no longer serve. Android is now viable (if not preferable in some groups - especially Europe barring the UK) in domains where Apple remained king for so long.

The conversation turns to the AVP—Apple’s Vision Pro. “Oh that thing. It’s like a £4,000 hat for people who want to impress themselves in a mirror,” Daniel deadpans and then laughs. “It’s not for us. It’s for the status-obsessed, and we’ve all seen how that ends up. You don’t see many of us wanting to flex their AVP on TikTok.” He starts laughing. “Why would I want to wear a pair of goggles and not be able to talk to my friends in the same room? Gosh I mean, I suppose if you’re older and lonely and don’t have anything better to do maybe it would be fun to just dive into something you know, like I used to in online games, but I’m not wearing goggles for my compute or to watch YouTube” – by this point he is laughing, almost uncontrollably. A few more use cases come into the discussion but they’re probably best left to speculation, I tell him. Suffice to say, we know what made VHS players popular, right? For anyone who understands the phrase “Vestager’s Hot Tub App,” lets just say if that was available natively on the AVP, they’d probably have a killer device on their hands,

Needless to say as anyone who has read my blog before will know, I share Daniel‘s amusement at the “Apple Vision Pro,” a crippled spatial something headset deliberately designed around a codec which will not play anyone else’s spatial video content except Apple’s. But this article isn’t about my bias for a change,

In Daniel’s circles, the mere act of such “flexing” – the act of over-spending on under-useful products in a tech-fetishitic way, the tech purchase itself, is itself suspect, a kind of old man’s game performed for invisible audiences. The real markers of status are more ephemeral: who can create something new, who can hack their workflow, who can vanish off-grid for a week and come back with a story instead of a new device.

Product choices follow suit. When Daniel bought a Nothing Watch before a three-country trip, it wasn’t just price (or eleven days battery vs. Apple’s one), but the pleasure of something that could be tinkered with, repaired, even outlived and was unknown, Exciting enough to buy and affordable enough to risk spending £49. Or, just binned if he didn’t like it.

“Why spend hundreds for a logo?” he shrugs, even while fondly using his battered iPhone 11 which he refuses to give up. “Apple talks about battery life. I talk about being able to change my own battery. I want to choose my own watch too if I’m going to swap out my normal wristwatch for a digital one and have it sat on my wrist all day.”

The new minimalism isn’t about owning less. It’s about shedding anything that feels imposed: brand, obligation, recurring fees. Daniel keeps his MacBook alive long past its “expected” lifespan. He’ll use Vinted or Depop for clothes, not because he’s broke, but because “newness” doesn’t confer status; curation, individuality, and provenance do. Even the “eco” angle is less about virtue than about autonomy:

“If I buy something used, I’m not in anyone’s funnel. I can leave anytime.”

Crucially, Gen Z is not buying the old promises. The iPhone “supercycle” is dead to them because nobody believes in cycles anymore.

“If the product’s great, we’ll tell each other. If not, we’ll bail, even if our parents are still excited for the next one.” An iPhone two or three years old is good enough (five years in his case with his iPhone 11). He goes on, “can it really be worth three years of upgrade costs just to have a slightly better camera, for worse battery life?” (yes, he does talk a lot, about batteries).

He goes on to say: “With the money I can save I can travel around Europe and go shopping on Vinted feeling like I’m walking down Bond Street, with a zero knocked off the price tag.”

Daniel’s generation was raised to see through branding trained by years of algorithmic manipulation, hard-wired to spot the influencer’s pitch, inoculated against the seduction of exclusivity. “Brands still matter,” he concedes, “but only if they deliver. And even then, it’s not for life. Loyalty is what you have for friends, not brands, and not your phone especially when it battery shames you.”

For legacy players like Apple, the challenge is existential. If the only moat is inertia, they’re one misstep away from irrelevance. The “walled garden” is now less a safe haven, more a gilded cage—tolerated only as long as the friction stays lower than the rewards.

In Daniel’s world, the true flex is not what you bought, but what you can walk away from. Agency is king. And brands? “They’re just scaffolding,” he says, “until something better comes along.”

A few observations to-date:

1. His Nothing Watch (and the “out of stock” Phone) as peer-currency and signal,

2. His indifference to“old luxury” and why The Ordinary is a skincare unicorn,

3. The iPhone 11 battery episode as a parable of Apple’s misreading of the customer,

4.   The wider context: why Gen Z trusts second-hand markets over flagships,

5.   The emotional charge of being shamed for wanting to change a battery.

Agency, Friction, and the Rituals of Rebellion: Daniel’s Technology Realism

If the first act of Daniel’s adolescence was ambient exposure to digital immersion, and the second the slow withdrawal of faith in brands, the third is where we see the emergence of a technology realism: a quiet, fiercely pragmatic stance toward the things that touch his daily life, what he buys, how he fixes, and where he finds value.

“I don’t go to Apple Stores,” Daniel tells me, unprompted. “Not unless I have to. It’s a weird place now, sanitised, expensive, and everyone is either bored or worried they’ll be judged for asking something stupid. I get what I need online, second hand or shop on Vinted or Depop. Even a Nothing phone, if I could find one.”

The Nothing Watch was a practical choice. £49, eleven days of battery, which turned out to be fully iPhone compatible and a design quirky enough to signal nonconformity without screaming for attention. “And you can actually change parts yourself. Even the bezel, not just the strap, can be customised. That means something. You can use ChatGPT to design your own watch face, and - crucially - it “just works” with iPhones, he explained after taking delivery of it as I was finishing this article, calling me handsfree on it connect to his iPhone by Bluetooth. It even works with #FreeSiri. It says ‘we trust you not to break it, and if you do, that’s your business.’ It’s the opposite of Apple’s attitudewhere asking for a battery swap on my iPhone 11 felt like going to confession. It’s your device, but not really.”

Daniel’s iPhone 11 is a lesson in friction. After three years, the battery wouldn’t hold a charge. “I just wanted to change it. Apple made it this whole ordeal, with Genius Bar bookings, appointments, warnings about losing waterproofing. Like I was a child who couldn’t be trusted with his own things.” He pauses, the frustration still fresh. “And they charge you for the privilege.” You sense the only thing premium here he’s seeing is the contempt for users who want control.

This is the kind of encounter that shapes a generation’s attitude not just toward Apple, but toward any brand that confuses control with service.

“We don’t want to break things. But we want to know we can—and put them back together.”

When Daniel and his friends scout for a Nothing Phone, it’s not because it’s rare, but because “it’s a phone that doesn’t try to lock you in. If you drop it, there are parts. If you get bored, you sell it. On the secondary market, it’s even more valuable. Apple can’t stand that.”

The hunt for the always-out-of-stock Nothing Phone has become a meme in Daniel’s group chats.

“If you get one, you can make a profit just by holding onto it for a few months. That’s wild. That’s the kind of scarcity Apple used to engineer with new iPhones except now, we laugh at the idea of waiting outside a store for a phone. We’ll wait for it to show up used, or not at all.”

Brand discovery for Daniel’s cohort rarely comes from influencers.

“Influencers are cringe. Paid shills. If I see a product on six accounts, I know it’s not for me.” Instead, trust comes from the peer swarm - a friend’s TikTok, a candid post on Reddit, a brutally honest Discord review.

That’s why brands like The Ordinary in skincare take off: “No hype, no fantasy, just a product that does what it says, and you’re not shamed for not buying into expensive packaging and brand marketing. That’s the gold standard now. And the skincare products themselves are really great.” La Prairie, watch out, The Ordinary is about to eat your next generation.

This is more than a shopping preference. It’s a world view shaped by living at the intersection of constant marketing pressure and deep digital literacy. Daniel’s generation knows every trick, every funnel, every dopamine feedback loop. They don’t reject status, they just redefine it. Agency is the ultimate currency; anything that robs it, or patronises them for seeking it, will fail.

“Nothing wins because it says: Here’s a phone, here’s the price, go do what you want. Apple loses because it says: Here’s a phone, and if you want to use it differently, you’re doing it wrong. It just works, but you have to watch ten YouTube videos to find out most of the features.”

The pattern isn’t just local.:

“In Stockholm, in London, in Porto, it’s the same. People want tools they can bend, not be bent by. I’ll pay for Spotify because it’s frictionless, because it’s cheap, because I can leave at any time, and I don’t feel locked into Apple Music. I use The Ordinary products, not because I love their brand, but because their brand doesn’t gaslight me into paying a premium for their products. If that changes, I’m gone.  Someone new will come along. Upselling is for bozos. That’s the deal.”

This is the rational, unsentimental, but never cynical landscape of Gen Z brand realism: every device is a rental, every brand a utility, every purchase a negotiation with agency and risk.

“If Apple wants to win back my trust,” Daniel shrugs, “they’ll have to let go a bit, stop raising prices, improve their battery life, and let us in rather than offering cheap deals to students and then hanging us out to dry once we’re in the ecosystem. Nothing offers students between 10-40% discounts, and a pair of free top-tier headphone with a new Phone. What does Apple give me? A 5% student discount and then £79 for a battery change when I could do that myself for £15. No thanks.”

There’s A Core Thesis Emerging From Daniel’s discussions:

Gen Z isn’t “disloyal” or unappreciative. It’s just disillusioned — and digitally fluent enough to walk away.

This is the throughline: Gen Z is not abandoning legacy brands or platforms out of immaturity or impatience, but because they know better. Their early, deep digital fluency means they evaluate tech through utility, adaptability, and agency — not legacy, aesthetic, or ecosystem inertia.

The Kids Grow Up and the World Fails to Notice

Let’s drop the performance. Daniel isn’t a “prodigy,” and Gen Z isn’t waiting for permission to disrupt your market. This is the S-curve moment, the phase shift where, if you’re not paying attention, your relevance will vanish in the rear-view.

After a lifetime spent mastering the digital and the social, this generation simply refuses to buy into nostalgia, or pay a premium for it.

Here’s what almost everyone gets wrong:

Gen Z isn’t defined by the loudest TikTokers or the laziest memes about “work-shy kids.” It’s a cohort that spans 14 to 29 year olds now, and if you imagine them all as teenagers, you’re already irrelevant. The real action is at the upper end, where twenty-somethings are quietly re-architecting workflows, ignoring legacy systems, and building careers on a kind of digital parallelism that looks like “slacking” to managers stuck in the 1990s, but in reality is just faster, leaner, and almost frictionless. Crucially, they won’t put on a performance for their boss just to get a promotion. They do enough of that in their digital world. Work is there to make them a living, not to put on another over-performative show like an organ monkey to get attention.

Daniel’s cohort grew up multitasking at the atomic level blurring the lines between work and leisure, research and play, commerce and creation. They don’t perform for the boss because the old rituals “work hard, stay late, be seen, get promoted”are as dead to them as coal dust and the company clock. They were raised by the internet, trained by real-time feedback, and their bullshit detectors are tuned to a hair-trigger. They don’t wait for approval, they act, synthesise, get results and move on. If they’re not appreciated for being efficient but demanding their time off accordingly, they’ll … move on.

What does loyalty mean to Daniel?

“If it works, it stays. If it doesn’t, I’m gone.” That’s it. No mythologising. No brand as surrogate parent. Apple, once a status symbol, is now a tool and if a better one appears, the switch is immediate. What’s the upgrade trigger? “Performance. New tools. Real innovation, no fluff.” They don’t care about your 50th shade of blue or your “Pro” badge if the product doesn’t deliver agency and autonomy.

On privacy?

“I want control and clarity. Don’t sneakily learn me.” These aren’t naive kids waiting to be “protected” by corporate safetyism—they’re operators who know the price of their data and the cost of being locked in. When Apple shames Daniel for wanting to swap a battery, it doesn’t build loyalty, it just breeds quiet contempt and a hunger for the next defector brand.

On the myth of Gen Z as passive, performative, or entitled?

Nonsense. These are the kids who learned to search, filter, triangulate, and adapt while you were still learning to send attachments. When Daniel’s group swaps reviews, it’s in DMs, Discords, and private channels, not for the world’s applause but for survival. They aren’t waiting for the mainstream, they’re five years ahead of it, already bored with what you thought was “the next thing.”

Apple (and every legacy brand) faces the same existential fork: Will you keep building “for” Gen Z while misunderstanding them, or will you admit they are already the new mainstream demanding agency, transparency, and a tool they can trust? The upgrade cycle is now a flight response. The most trusted peer is the one who tells them when to leave.

For investors especially those still polishing their “contrarian” badges, understand:

1.  Your carefully constructed narratives are being metabolised, memed, and discarded by the very cohort whose money will drive the next S-curve.

The greatest risk you face is not a collapse of the AI bubble, but the collapse of your own mental model about how markets, loyalty, and agency actually function in 2025 and beyond.

2. You can see it as “rebellion,” but it’s just adaptive behaviour in an ecosystem that no longer rewards compliance.

3.  If you’re waiting for Gen Z to start behaving like “grown-ups,” you’ve already missed the moment they took control. They’re the new grown-ups, and their world doesn’t need your permission, or your applause.

The only question left is whether you’re still in Plato’s cave, clapping for the shadows, or whether you’re willing to step into the light and see who’s already busy building the future, quietly, while you debate what’s “real.”

Appendices for some quick reference and Lessons to learn:

Fluid Channels, Not Walled Gardens

Omnichannel is not a buzzword to Gen Z. It’s just their reality. They shop wherever is easiest in the moment:

• 52% prefer online, but 3 in 4 still shop in-store weekly for the experience or immediacy.
• Subscriptions, pre-loved, and as-needed modules win over expensive “one-and-done” purchases. However in-person experience, like tailoring for a bespoke fit, are unusually popular, because having taste is seen as something you can’t buy from a brand any more.
• Social media, AI chatbots, and live commerce events blend the purchase path. Pop up shops, even 15 years on, are still all the rage because they’re personal experiences. Monolithic shopping in department stores is so yesterdecade.

Financially, Gen Z uses less credit but juggles more subscriptions than older groups, and increasingly expects flexibility and visibility into their spend.

Lessons for Brands, Investors, and Pundits

Brand Rules for a Gen Z World

• Agency over Absorption: Let customers repair, mod, or leave—no shameware, no barriers, no forced upgrades.
• Radical Transparency: Don’t hide motives or data practices; own up to missteps.
• Flexibility First: Platform-agnostic interfaces, trouble-free returns, usage-based pricing.
• Function over Fanfare: Make products that work, not products that talk at you.
• Purposeful Authenticity: Prove social value; Gen Z will check for receipts.

Investor’s View: Bet on Fluidity

• Companies that make switching easy, experience seamless, and value evident will inherit the market.
• AI products that decouple from device OS and surface as persistent overlays will define the next competitive cycle.

Tech Pundit’s Takeaway

• The OS is the new layer cake—browser, agent, and AI are where the loyalty wars are fought.
• Device manufacturers are scaffolding; the action is at the interface.

Daniel’s Rules

• If it works better and costs less, I switch.
• If you block me from fixing my stuff, I shame you. Then I switch.
• If you try and own my identity, I will meme you to death.
• If you’re fair and honest, I’ll stay, as long as it suits me.
• If my group moves, so do I. Nobody gets left behind or stuck. You lose them, you’re dead to me too.

A look at the future, near term

AI, Perplexity and now Gen-Alpha, coming soon on the heels of Gen-Z are going to be the real challenge for brands to embrace, when the current grey haired managers of disruptive and now dominating brands like Apple will be succeeded by both a whole new generation of managers who need to understand a generational shift, the way few companies manage, to avoid jumping the shark but stay relevant, all the while contending with an ever younger workforce of Gen-Z so they in turn can tap into Gen-Alpha, and work out how the hell to work with a 10 year strategic plan when Apple can’t even get Siri right after 15 years, and a generation now arguably becomes more fluid  and fragmented in five years than it used to be in two decades. That was a long sentence! And it was meant to sound breathless, because the situation deserves to be recognised for what it is: an existential challenge

Brand Gravity in the Age of AI Browsing: Apple, Nothing, Ordinary, and the Gen Z Consumer

Let’s cover briefly again what we learned from interviewing Daniel. What does it mean to truly belong to a brand today and what are the implications for AAPL investors?

If you spent the 2000s quietly stacking up Apple boxes, breathing in the aroma of cardboard laced with status, you might imagine brand loyalty runs as deep in Gen Z as it did in you. Allow me to kill that illusion now.

What comes through, with all the staccato energy of Daniel’s fragmented but fiercely honest testimony, is that the centripetal force of brand “ecosystems” once so adept at holding customers within their polished orbits is rapidly diminishing in a world where AI browsing and agentic interfaces threaten to render the underlying OS an irrelevance or perhaps just a convenient annoyance.

If the iPhone was once the sleekest vessel to Google, Snap, or Instagram, today the determinative question isn’t about the silicon in your palm, but rather the interface layer - perhaps a floating, cross-platform AI browser - that overlays every device. Apple, always the high priest of luxury and self-sufficiency, suddenly finds the sacraments of ecosystem comfort somewhat less persuasive in a Gen Z market allergic to manipulation, price-gouging, and above all, hype.

The Apple Dilemma: Beauty, Uniformity, and (Increasing) Irrelevance

Daniel, our Gen Z everyman (or rather, every-student-wrestling-with-debt-and-a-strong-inner-bullshit-detector), offers a view from the inside: Apple’s hardware is still desired, but increasingly for aesthetic uniformity rather than any real functional closed-garden sorcery.

“When you purchase a device from the Apple ecosystem, it’s unlike any other — the design is just the same. The design works and it does what I need. That’s what I think.” Oddly to many older genres around, what he doesn’t think he needs is the latest iPhone.

The priority is clear: aesthetics trump utility for the iPhone, but with laptops or iPads, “it would definitely be how well it goes with AI.” If a Windows machine delivered better AI features, Daniel would switch, he says. In short, the locus of value is shifting from the hardware-software stack to the “agentic” browser layer that sits, omniscient, between you and your old OS.

There is palpable scepticism about whether Apple can compete: “Apple’s own AI projects are now two years late and although they’ve created frameworks, they’ve delivered literally nothing.” There is an undertow of threat here: should Apple continue to lag, Daniel’s tribe - defaulting to the most frictionless, effective AI, regardless of platform - will have little compunction about switching.

Agentic AI: The Interface That Renders the Platform Secondary

Try, as this interviewer repeatedly and sometimes exasperatedly did, to tease out whether Gen Z finds the “agentic browser” concept (think: OpenAI’s mooted web interface, Perplexity’s Comet, someone else’s Meteor perhaps) compelling and you’ll encounter bewilderment, anxiety, and a kind of abstracted excitement. The proposition is seductive: a browser or interface layer that leverages memory and user context, can fetch your YouTube videos, integrate with Google Docs and manage your itineraries, notes, email and calendar, all with an intelligent, persistent agent who knows your habits, codes, and projects. You know, what Siri was meant to deliver 15 years ago before being lobotomised and now boxed marked “Do Not Open until WWDC 2026.”

( #FreeSiri )

Daniel’s response is a fascinating mix of awe and suspicion: “That sounds incredible and will definitely make a lot of people think twice. Maybe I should stick to Apple if you’re able to use [agentic AI] from a computing perspective…”

Until, moments later, he pivots, conscious of generational wariness about being over-personalised and after I explain Apple can’t offer that yet, but his much beloved Nothing Phone (if he could find one in stock) can, right now, and with an update to Nothing OS4 due in a few months time. Even Nothing, the brand that came from nowhere, is years ahead of Apple.

The crux: Gen Z desires intelligent tooling when it enables productivity or creativity, but doesn’t want personalised search that might “exclude” or “alienate” them from seeing what everyone else is seeing. Useful AI: yes. AI that starts gatekeeping information: hard pass. Walled garden and AI? Not a good vibe. Working with AIs is the most personal of intimate relationships between human and machine - a virtual companion and thought, reflection partner aware in its own way, of your thought patters and history, and able to mark moments and priorities, and keep track of those. If that data is stuck behind one ecosystem only and can’t be share, it is likely it won’t serve so much as a lock-in, but a lock out to the 700M GPT and Perplexity users currently installed cross platform, with 50-70 million being added monthly. GPT is the most downloaded app on the App Store.

In this, Daniel articulates a profound tension at the heart of AI-first interfaces: the need to have cake and eat it — keeping control, privacy, and a sense of connection with the “majority view,” even as tools become more bespoke.

Tommo’s Benediction:

Lessons from Daniel’s Q&A, reframed for maximum discomfort for investors still thinking it‘a 2015:

1.        Brand means nothing. Agency means everything.

2.        The best tech is invisible; the worst is shaming.

3.        Privacy is power, not product.

4.        “Fix it or leave it” is the new review.

5.        Time is their most precious resource; waste it and they’re gone.

If you’re not learning from them, you’re being replaced by them. Quietly, ruthlessly, and with no apologies.

The ultimate irony: Gen Z’s refusal to play your game is not petulance, but a strategic response to an environment designed for performative loyalty and maximal extraction.

— Tommo, London, 24th July 2025 | X @tommo_uk | Linkedin Tommo UK

With thanks to Daniel Alestrand for putting up with 4 days of interviews while trying to get ready for his trip to Norway. By the time you read this, he‘ll probably be hiking up a fjord somewhere, using his five year old iPhone 11 if it has any battery left, some old AirPods, and Nothing Watch with an 11 day battery life which will outlast his iPhone battery about 20x over. I hope he’s brought a battery pack with him and solar charger - you can buy them off Temu for about $20.

You can get in touch with Daniel directly on LinkedIn  at:

https://www.linkedin.com/in/daniel-alestrand/

Read his articles about the Stockholm tech startup scene at:

https://www.stockholmvalley.com

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