“30 Under 30” lists provoke envy, discouragement, and regret.

Story by Kinzy Janssen
Illustration by Grace Molteni

First, a disclaimer. I do not have a problem with honorary lists, per se. Splashy labels like “Best” or “Top 10” or “Most Baller” are more or less subjective, which renders them ignorable. More or less.

And yet, there’s a certain breed of list that I find much more discouraging than inspiring, and it is 100 percent due to its low age ceiling. You’ve seen them before, and you’ve felt the waves of envy… and regret… and inferiority: 30 under 30. 40 under 40. 20 under 20. All of them award a certain number of people who haven’t yet reached a certain symbolic birthday.

The first age-restrictive list I noticed was the New Yorker’s “20 under 40”, published in 2010. I remember because I was reading The Unnamed, and the book flap informed me that Joshua Ferris was one of the 20 notable novelists under 40. What struck me as odd was that his age seemed equally as important as his writing talent, with his birth year proudly displayed under his pencil-sketched headshot. Since there was no “20 over 40” list to balance it out, the messaged seemed to be that success wasn’t enough. One must be successful and young to be acknowledged.

I tried to calm the waves of anxiety by telling myself the age limit was arbitrary, but it didn’t matter. I panicked. Here I was, lolling on the floor reading a book rather than writing one. I was disgusted with myself then, though I was (and still am) nowhere near 40.

We now catalog adult accomplishments by age in an astonishing range of industries: food, wine, music, art, craft, marketing, engineering, the stock market, politics, real estate, the legal landscape, activism, cell biology, pathology, Catholicism, soccer-coaching, agriculture, automobiles, equestrian, the kitchen and bath industry. Some media outlets, like Inc. and Forbes, annually recognize dozens of fields in one haphazard list. I have noticed, too, that they are becoming increasingly localized. Like a high school football team, each community needs its own roster of fresh-faced, elite white-collar workers to pin their hopes on.

And yet, whether 20 or 30 or 39, youth is arbitrary. Why do we award youthfulness—that which we can’t even define—its own trophy?

In many cases, of course, youth is a setback, which is why we understand the concept of child prodigies. Our amazement stems directly from their inexperience; a 6-year-old violin virtuoso is impressive precisely because she is at a disadvantage (think of the sheer deficit of practice hours!).

But in the adult world, relative youth can be a boon: employers often conflate youth and passion, which in turn translates to bigger investment and opportunities. In an introductory video to this year’s “30 under 30” honorees, Forbes editor Randall Lane addressed this advantage:

“Never before in human history has youth been an advantage. For millennia, it was experience and it was know-how that ruled the day… all of a sudden, young people are the ones who are coming up with ideas that older people cannot think of – they’re not native digital thinkers.”

If these up-and-comers innovate so naturally, why do they deserve to be singled out? Recognizing only young entrepreneurs when the advantage is youth is like giving awards only to models who are 5’10’’ or taller, when the advantage is height. Wouldn’t it be more interesting to hear about the models who have succeeded despite that height bias? Likewise, wouldn’t it be more interesting to hear about entrepreneurs who tackled setbacks—at any age?

Statistically, American fiction writers have also enjoyed a mysterious youth-based advantage. When the New Yorker published the aforementioned “20 under 40” list in 2010, the New York Times responded by quoting British novelist Kazuo Ishiguro, who cautioned that it was “very misleading” to call the writers “budding or promising” because they were likely peaking instead. As the article continues to give examples of famous authors who were under 40 when they wrote their masterpieces, it becomes clear that this is the rule, not the exception. When we continue to perceive successful 35-year-old writers as “promising,” Sam Tanenhaus argues that “it threatens to infantilize [them], reducing them to the condition of permanent apprentices who grind steadily toward ‘maturity’ as they prepare to write their ‘breakthrough’ books.” The same could be said for entrepreneurs or artists.

But we live in a youth-obsessed culture, and that’s reflected in the way magazines present these young professionals; the language they use suggests a “just-graduated” aura. Consciously or unconsciously, Forbes hints at an extension of childhood by using the term prodigy to refer to twenty-somethings.

We live in a youth-obsessed culture, and that’s reflected in the way magazines present these young professionals.

The St. Louis Business Journal and Realtor Magazine both refer to their stars collectively as the “Class of 2014” – a turn of phrase inextricably linked to school gymnasiums, brightly colored gowns, and, well, youth. This nod to a cohesive “class” suggests that there is a generational thread that binds their work, or at least their sensibilities, together. Yet, besides the reference to “digital thinking”, most of the list-makers only gesture vaguely at vigor or risk-taking or passion – characteristics that do not distinguish them from any other crop of youth.

To me, the fact that we live in a youth-centric culture serves as both explanation for why we make the lists in the first place, and as grounds to halt the practice.

I’m beginning to wonder if the only reason publications round up a bunch of “budding” young people is so that we can ogle them like models. Case in point: the Forbes “30 under 30” selectees undergo a transformation worthy of a catwalk. First, their hair and makeup is styled and then they are draped in jewels and beaded designer gowns worth tens of thousands of dollars and then a veteran fashion photographer coaches their posture and then a videographer captures the photographer snapping the winners’ winning smiles. One of them, tennis player Maria Sharapova, is already a magazine cover darling. It seems the editors had to figure out some way to get Sharapova into the photo shoot, along with another svelte blonde whose brewery, Golden Road, has absolutely nothing to do with the digital revolution. Enter the gratuitous Sports, Food and Drink, and Hollywood categories. That’s not to say the honorees aren’t successful–they are. But the magazine does not provide a convincing argument for why we should care about the fact that they’re under 30.

Across publications, the most prominent pieces of information displayed are 1) the photo, 2) the name, and 3) the age, in large bold font. As evidenced by headlines such as “The Sexiest 25 Musicians Under 25” and “21 under 21: Music’s Hottest Minors,” listicles in the music industry appeal much more directly to audience’s eyeballs. Meanwhile, Forbes “30 under 30” photo shoots and accompanying “behind-the-scenes” videos attempt to cloak sex in professionalism.

The question I think editors need to ask themselves is: for whom are these lists compiled? Do they exist mostly for the honorees? To contribute to their exposure at a critical turning point in their career? Or does calling a rising star a rising star actually ramp up the pressure, having an overall negative psychological effect? Karen Russell, one of the New Yorker’s young authors from 2010, admits there is pressure that comes with the designation. “You’re like: ‘Thanks for putting me in the game, coach. Oh God, I hope I’m not going to be one who is distracted by a butterfly and drops the ball,’” she says.

Another possible reason these types of lists are popular in media is that they end up making editors look prophetic. Identifying promising talent early is a way of putting your “tag” on a young techie in case he becomes the next Mark Zuckerberg. That way, the magazine can pat itself on the back for discovering them, like a talent scout.

They end up making editors look prophetic…identifying promising talent early is a way of putting your “tag” on a young techie…that way, the magazine can pat itself on the back for discovering them, like a talent scout.

The New Yorker is the one publication whose media-savvy audience tore the concept of “20 under 40” apart, calling it “a pretense” and a “very silly exercise indeed.” One reader offered a dig at the editor’s introductory phrasing, saying he’d rather be given a list worth reading than a list worth “watching.”

What’s strange is that the New Yorker’s editors were bracing for a critical response. “I expect there will be some backlash from people wondering why we didn’t put certain other writers on the list,” said Deborah Treisman, the magazine’s fiction editor. But she couldn’t resist publishing the list anyway. And there are several admissions that reveal just how uncomfortable this editorial board felt before unleashing the list onto the literary world. First, the editors say there were at least two worthy authors whose “only mistake was to be on the wrong side of the birthday cutoff.” I can’t think of a more effective way to draw attention to arbitrariness. They also pose the following question to their readers in the introduction: “Who deserved a spot but was overlooked? Or do you think there’s a problem with these kind of lists in general?” The inclusion of such an open-ended question invites skepticism and doubt and incredulity, and the conclusion I always come up with is “Yes, there is a problem.”

Already, there are small movements building to combat this obsession with “under 30” or “under 40.” The site “Forty Over Forty”  highlights women who “upend the perception that anyone over the age of 40 is ‘past their prime’” and exists as a counterweight to the scads of lists applauding 20- and 30-somethings, many of which are disproportionately male.

A higher-profile award is also in the works: The Huffington Post just announced Huff/Post 50, a program that recognizes people over the age of fifty for reinvention of life or career. Actress Rita Wilson, who will be on the selection committee this year, invokes the spirit of Nora Ephron to explain why the program is important:

I was, and continue to be, inspired by my good friend Nora Ephron. On my 50th birthday, she stood up and said, “I am here to tell you good things can happen after turning 50. I didn’t direct my first movie until I was 50.” If Nora could accomplish what she did in 21 years, why is it that some people still believe age defines what we can and cannot do? The truth is, it doesn’t.

Now doesn’t that sound more inspiring, no matter your age?

Kinzy Janssen is the social media editor for The Riveter. You can follow her @KinzyJ.

Grace Molteni is a Midwest born and raised designer, illustrator, and self-proclaimed bibliophile, currently calling Chicago home. Forever a vagabond, when she’s not working through an ever-growing list of projects or nose deep in a book, you’re sure to find her satisfying her wanderlust somewhere around the globe. For more musings, work, or just to say hey check her out on Instagram or at her personal website.