Is Gen Z actually allergic to having fun?

If we had to choose just one adjective to describe Gen Z, “boring” might be the most appropriate. Supporting this theory are numerous studies that, year after year, show how the generation that was supposed to “conquer the world” seems deeply averse to hedonism. First, it was labeled as the least sexually active generation in history, then it emerged that they consume less alcohol and recreational drugs, and now data reveals that young adults don’t like going out dancing (and even house parties are losing appeal). Essentially, some claim that today’s youth no longer know how to have fun. It’s a highly relevant issue if we consider the looming recession and compare it to 2008, when Millennials found refuge in club culture (later renamed Indie Sleaze) to cope with the Great Recession: back then, hard times called for “hard measures” – drinks and substances included. Now, however, young adults are cutting back specifically on social expenses just to make it through the month. Nor is this a localized phenomenon, since clubs and venues around the world report facing the same crisis. From New York to Seoul, global nightlife is taking one hard hit after another. But what’s the real problem? Is Gen Z truly allergic to fun?

The situation in the United Kingdom is so serious that around four hundred nightclubs have closed in the past five years—more than a third of the total, according to the BBC. London Mayor Sadiq Khan has even proposed the creation of a task force to support venues at risk of shutting down, and numerous investigations aim to understand why the generation once considered the most party-loving no longer goes out as much. Experts cite economic factors, social changes, and lifestyle shifts shaped by the lockdown years: the mass use of social networks, decreased consumption of alcohol and drugs, and a rise in anxiety and loneliness that make offline socializing more difficult. Moreover, more and more young people say they simply can’t afford the rising costs of nightlife—entry fees, drinks, taxis, and late-night meals. Across the Atlantic, in New York, several iconic clubs are shutting down due to rising rent, insurance costs, and declining revenue caused by young people drinking less, as reported by the New York Times. Even though the post-pandemic years—according to the Washington Post—have seen the rise of new venues trying to reinvent the “night out” concept through more intimate experiences and higher quality offerings, many venue owners admit that staying afloat is becoming increasingly difficult, weighed down by rising costs and a clientele less willing to spend on nightlife. The concept of the “third place” may revive nightlife, but certainly with a different look than we’re used to; instead of massive “glamorous” clubs, it seems Gen Z prefers more intimate, curated events tailored to musical preferences. That’s also why the new wave of raves has gradually replaced the traditional nightclub outing.

In Asia too, the landscape looks similar: nightlife is losing momentum, venues are emptying out, and alcohol—once the gravitational center of social life—is increasingly avoided. According to the magazine Straits Times, in Seoul—one of the continent’s nightlife capitals—entire areas like Nokdu Street are slowly fading. Major companies are reducing the frequency of “hoesik,” the traditional corporate drinking gatherings, while a growing number of confident young female professionals are opting out altogether. At the same time, inflation and high interest rates are pushing many to cut non-essential expenses, and nightlife is often the first to go. But it’s not just about money: just like in the West, both Korea and Japan are seeing the rise of a new health-conscious mindset. Young people are drinking less, going out less, and seem more interested in cultivating an online life than in chasing the old ritual of a night out. In Japan, where the decline is equally evident, local authorities are trying to revive the scene with public initiatives, events, and funding, as reported by the South China Morning Post. Yet, even here, there’s a sense of swimming against the tide—trying to bring back a model of fun that may no longer align with the present.

In Italy, however, the picture is less bleak than one might expect, and signs of recovery are becoming increasingly evident. According to FIPE, there is still a surprisingly vital network of nightclubs, made up of thousands of businesses operating across the country. Despite the difficult period during the pandemic, today, we’re beginning to see glimpses of normalcy and a renewed desire for fun. People are returning to night venues, themed nights are on the rise, and the sector is slowly leaving behind its darkest uncertainties. That doesn’t mean everything is back to how it was pre-2020—the comparison with the “golden past” is still unfavorable—but it does indicate a promising direction. On their part, venue managers are also adapting to the transformations underway: more flexible hours, varied music programming, and even live performances are just some of the ideas being tested to engage a more diverse audience.

It is precisely this capacity for reinvention, for reimagining the traditional concept of the nightclub, that suggests we’re not facing an irreversible crisis. On the contrary, Italian nightlife is evolving to align with new habits, showing a vibrancy that goes far beyond the raw numbers. And even though the road back to the pre-pandemic heyday may still be long, the desire to go out, meet, and have fun—albeit through often unfamiliar formats—feels more alive than ever. All of this suggests that calling it an “irreversible crisis” may be an oversimplification. Rather than a decline, we might speak of a “transformation,” pushing venues to engage with an audience seeking increasingly personalized and multifaceted experiences. Whereas in the past, nightclubs were undisputed symbols of wild fun and lively nights, today, the concept of “nightlife” includes new, often more “fluid” formats where culture, sociality, and safety play a central role—just as we've seen with the revival of newsstands.