The 22nd Century Will Be One Giant Nursing Home (And That’s Sad)

The 22nd Century Will Be One Giant Nursing Home (And That’s Sad)

The maiden has little hope for the future and dwells on beauty and sorrow. The mother manically attempts to create a future by any means necessary despite its hardships. The crone then is at the end. There isn't a future to anticipate. She stoically accepts her fate.  I've tied these concepts to stages of grief. The maiden is depression, the mother is testing, and the crone is acceptance. I've also tied these concepts to centuries and believe it follows a cycle.  So in this cycle, the era of the maiden was the 20th century, and in the previous cycle, it was the 10th century, the Dark Ages. The mother era is our current century, the 21st century. And in the past cycle, it was the 11th century. The era of the crone, I predict, will be the theme of the 22nd century. And in the old cycle, this was the 12th century.

These eras are reflected by the works of art and events of the time. The 20th century, for example, was full of post-apocalyptic stories and dystopian fiction and was where the World Wars and the Cold War would break out. The general zeitgeist was one of depression and of a doomed future. The maiden archetype, the young girl, was also prominent in this century. Anne Frank was everywhere. You could make a drinking game out of how many young girls or how many stories about teenage girls contemplating about how hard their life is or some equivalence of that story (ie Catcher in The Rye) were prevalent in 20th century media.

By contrast, I believe the 22th century will have an acceptance theme and will resemble the crone archetype, the older woman. Of course, since this century has yet to happen, I will instead refer to the previous cycle. The previous crone era was the 12th century. And if depression has a post-apocalyptic theme, acceptance has more of a soap opera vibe. 12th century fiction are very melodramatic and frequently feature morality tales and lots and lots of exposition and many moments of narration. These stories are usually pretty dry and mostly consist of people talking. Typically, not a whole lot of action or imagination going on. People who are more fond of the more youthful or masculine eras of art might find these types of stories a bit dull and cheesy. But even if you consider these stories to be chickflicks for retirement homes, they are nevertheless interesting to analyze. 

I will discuss three stories from the 12th century: Táin Bó Cúailnge, Yvain, the Knight of the Lion, and Policraticus. These stories were more or less random choices as to not merely seem like I'm just confirming my own bias for the sake of my own theory. The only thing these books have in common is that they all feature medieval chivalry. So, as far as these choices are concerned, my only real bias is that I might have a preference on that. Now, let's dive in and discuss how each of these stories has an acceptance theme. 

Táin Bó Cúailnge or the Cattle Raid on Cooley is a story about a war sparked by a queen who attempts to steal a Brown Bull from Cooley at Ulster. It begins with two people, Ailill and Medb assembling their army at Cruachan, the story then adds a prologue in which Ailill and Medb compare their wealths and find that the only thing that distinguishes them is that Ailill possesses a very fertile bull named Finnbhennach, who had been born from Medb's herd but scorned for being owned by a woman so it decided to transfer himself to Ailill's. Medb then decides to get the equally potent Donn Cuailnge from Cooley to equal her wealth with her husband. She successfully negotiates with the bull's owner, Dáire mac Fiachna, to rent the animal for a year. However, her messengers, while drunk, reveal that Medb intends to take the bull by force if she is not allowed to borrow him. The deal breaks down, and Medb raises an army, including 3000 Ulster exiles led by Fergus mac Róich and other allies, and then sets out to capture Donn Cuailnge. 

Ulster’s warriors are incapacitated by a curse placed by the goddess Macha, leaving only the young hero Cú Chulainn to defend the province. Though initially absent, he mounts a lone resistance, delaying the Connacht army through ritual single combat at river fords. Over months, he defeats many champions but cannot stop Medb from taking the bull. Cú Chulainn’s campaign is shaped by supernatural intervention. The war goddess Morrígan both hinders and later heals him, while the god Lug, revealed as his father, restores him after severe wounds. During this time, Ulster’s youth corps is slaughtered, provoking Cú Chulainn’s terrifying battle frenzy (ríastrad), in which he devastates the enemy camp. The most tragic episode is Cú Chulainn’s three day duel with his foster brother Ferdiad, whom Medb manipulates into fighting. Though reluctant, Cú Chulainn ultimately kills Ferdiad with the magical spear Gáe Bolga, leaving him too injured to continue fighting. Eventually, the Ulstermen recover and launch a full counterattack. Cú Chulainn returns to battle, forces his foster-father Fergus to withdraw, and causes the Connacht forces to collapse. He spares Medb and ensures her safe retreat.

In the aftermath, Donn Cuailnge fights and kills Finnbhennach in Connacht but dies from exhaustion after wandering Ireland, scattering place names. The epic ends with both bulls dead. What’s remarkable is that Ailill and Medb are strangely unemotional towards their demise. Both of them immediately accept the reality of the situation. There's no anger. Ailill doesn't try to attack the woman who was behind the death of the bull he cared for dearly. There's no bargaining either. Neither of them frantically try to perform CPR or something on the bulls or beg their gods to revive them, desperately hoping in vain that they might still be alive. There's not even really depression. Neither of them cry or treat this event like it's the end of the world. They treat it like a mundane event, a fact of life. That is acceptance in a nutshell. 

Yvain, the Knight of the Lion is an Arthurian romance where Yvain, a knight of the roundtable, tries to avenge his cousin, Calogrenant, who had been defeated by a magical knight named Esclados with a magical storm making stone in the forest of Brocéliande. Yvain defeats Esclados and falls in love with his widow Laudine. Yvain wins his lady and marries her, but Gawain convinces him to leave Laudine behind to embark on a chivalric adventure. Yvain does so but promises Laudine he will return after one year. Yvain becomes so obsessed with his knightly adventures that he forgets to return to his wife and within a long period of time, she rejects him. To be honest, going into this, I half expected the acceptance theme of this story to be him accepting his own consequences and accepting that he can never be with Laudine again. But his relationship actually makes a complete recovery. But no, he accepts that he was neglectful and tries to make up for his mistakes because of it. Yvain rescues a woman named Lunete from being burned at the stake, and she helps Yvain win back his wife, who allows him to return. What’s interesting is that Yvain would go mad with grief, implying he went through the stages of grief (anger, bargaining, depression) before being cured by a noblewoman and reaching acceptance. 

Policraticus is probably the most controversial out of three, as it isn’t fiction and it is in fact the first complete medieval work of political theory, as it’s a guide to princes and courtiers and bureaucrats. Even this book has “acceptance” themes. Policraticus assumes that the universe is governed by divine reason and natural law. Corruption, tyranny, and suffering are not treated as shocking anomalies but as expected consequences of moral failure. John does not react with outrage at bad rulers; instead, he explains why they exist. Evil is presented as a deviation from order, not a cosmic disaster demanding protest. John never suggests negotiating with fortune, tyrants, or divine will. Fortune is unstable and cannot be controlled. Tyrants fall only when justice or providence allows it to fall, not when people plead or bargain or demand it to. Rather than asking “How can this be undone?”, the text asks “How should one live rightly within these limits?, a clear marker of acceptance.

Where anger might be expected, John offers analysis. He anatomizes the state as a body, diagnosing its illnesses rather than raging against them. Corruption is treated like a chronic condition that must be managed through virtue and law. This clinical tone reflects acceptance: the problem is real, but it is addressed through acceptance, not passion. Policraticus repeatedly emphasizes that humans are fallible and power corrupts. Even kings are bound by law and morality. Absolute justice is unattainable in earthly politics. John does not protest this limitation; he accepts it as the condition of human governance.  Even the most radical idea in Policraticus, the justification of tyrannicide, is framed without anger or depression. It is presented as a last resort sanctioned by moral law. There is no emotional outrage or call for vengeance. This reinforces acceptance, where justice is restored through order, not emotional upheaval.  

Policraticus is probably the most exaggerated form of acceptance, but that is what makes it a great example. All of these characters must accept their fate as grizzly as it is. And this acceptance is what the crone archetype represents, the wisdom that there is no winning this fight, and the maturity to not fall into despair like the depression stage. 

I also think John of Salisbury himself sort of resembles this grandmotherly archetype. Now, obviously, he was by no means a senior citizen when his book came out, only being in his late 40s at the time, but the fashion of the 12th century, with the long robes and big tricorn hats and what not, are all very grandmotherly, even when worn by younger women. I'm sure people will be quick to say that I only think this as a bias of growing up seeing older people dressed this way, and just think it's grandmotherly by association. 

However, I don't think something looks grandmotherly just because it's old. The tunic aesthetic of the 9th is an even older aesthetic. And yet, I think it looks rather youthful. I don't think that the girls of the 9th look like grandmas, but I think the girls of the 12th century do. What's even more interesting is that the 9th century would be the former bargaining stage, which is the child era. So, it's fitting that the people of the 9th century would seem a bit childish. The stories of the 9th century were also nothing at all like the melodramas of the 12th century. 9th century stories were epic poems. The emphasis was almost strictly on how large scale everything else, and these stories were typically more light-hearted and full of slapstick humor. All of this quite befitting an era of childish imagination. Then by the 12th century, fiction became more focused on exposition. These stories full of narration and excessive expositions could be read like lectures, and there's far less going on with the visuals. The tone was also much more serious and melodramatic.

I think the same thing is happening in our own cycle. Our bargaining era of the 19th century was full of fun and imaginative stories with a more light-hearted tone overall, even if they had some darker moments. From Sherlock Holmes to Alice in Wonderland to Huckleberry Finn, Moby Dick, the dime novels, etc. stories are very large and creative with action scenes, illustrations, and moments of slapstick humor. Today, this is far less frequent, and by the 22nd century, I predict will be right back to full on soap opera stories and morality tales. This is already well on its way due to cell phones. Filmmakers are already making movies and shows with the assumption that people are scrolling on their phones rather than watching the screen. This means everything is becoming much more primarily focused on the audio while the visuals are becoming neglected. Movies and TV are becoming much more focused on talking and narration. And since viewers are now expected to have the attention span of a gnat, I anticipate that soap opera type morality tales will become commonplace once again and the moral will be loud and vocal, again to fill in all the information for those who weren't paying attention. 

The visuals will also get less interesting. You can't focus on elaborate action scenes if you were watching Instagram or TikTok at the same time. And while people may have been hating on CGI forever now, I think the intense backlash against AI and the general mockery of the decline in the quality of CGI will be the death nail for special effects, at least for the near future. Studios will instead opt for stripped down simple practical sets. I even think that the modern history equivalence of morality plays will come back into fashion as people are tired of the status quo when it comes to making “morally gray” or “anti hero/anti villains” in fiction. Many people complain about how “mean spirited” media is now and are tired of tv shows and movies about awful people doing awful things and long for something real. I think this creates a genuine market for corny morality tale type shows and movies. The morality plays that the 18th century laughed at and the 20th century thought were boring and outdated are something that the 22nd century are sincerely longing for. 

And the 22nd century wouldn’t just parallel the stories of the 12th century, but also the society. In the 12th century, feudal monarchies strengthened in England, France, and the Holy Roman Empire. Kings increasingly relied on written law, bureaucracy, and educated clerks rather than purely military power. The idea of the state as an ordered body (used in works like Policraticus) became influential. It was all about acceptance and trying to stabilize whatever is left to stabilize. The 22nd century may parallel this as well, with countries trying to just do whatever they can to remain stable and boring after the chaos and drama of the 20th and 21st centuries. Everyone is arguing about whether the future will “collapse”. And you can see why people argue about “collapse”. Collapse is very “visual”, and big, and it has motion. It’s easy to imagine society falling apart. But the 22nd century won’t collapse, it’ll basically “calcify”. With endless maintenance, endless healthcare and pension discussions, endless risk management, and endless “let’s not rock the boat” energy. A civilization that isn’t dying violently, but isn’t really living either. Just sort of… lingering like a very expensive hospice patient hooked up to machines that technically keep things going.

The art of the 22nd century will see a revival of kitsch and other styles that will provide comfort and sterility, giving off a “grandma’s house” vibe with floral patterns, muted pastels, rounded corners everywhere, with nothing sharp, nothing loud, and nothing challenging. Art that exists to not upset anyone. Culture will feel like it’s constantly asking, “Is this okay? Is this too much? Will this scare grandma?” Because grandma is everyone, just like how everyone is mom in the 21st century, and everyone was a child in the 19th century. Unlike 20th century and 21st century art that was explosive, abstract, and extremely controversial and divisive, 22nd century art will do the opposite. It will be extremely boring, extremely safe, and extremely slow. Possibly meaning boring and basic paintings of rooms or objects, soap operas and dramas about old people remembering one small moment from their youth, and stories where nothing really happens except quiet reflection before the end. The recurring theme won’t be revolution or self discovery, much like grandma herself, it’ll be “I don’t have much time left. Let’s focus on the little things.”

I know people will point out climate change, but even this has parallels to the 12th century. In the 12th century, people experienced a period of relative climatic change and warmth, commonly associated with what was called the Medieval Warm Period (or Medieval Climate Anomaly). Average temperatures were warmer than in the preceding centuries. Winters were generally milder; summers were longer. Longer growing seasons improved crop yields, which saw the expansion of cultivation into higher altitudes and increased food production supported population growth across Europe. Forests were cleared for farmland (assarting), new villages and towns were founded, marginal lands were farmed successfully, something that would become a problem when the climate cooled later. Despite overall warmth, the 12th century still saw droughts, floods, and harsh winters in some years. Because farming expanded into marginal lands, society became vulnerable when conditions worsened. And just like how the Medieval Warm Period would influence the 12th century, I think this may parallel the 22nd century, which may normalize climate change as a condition and adapt to it, whether people like it or not or whether they want to or not not. Both suggest a future where climate change becomes something lived with, not solved, producing a new cultural form of acceptance, though born from very different histories.  

I predict that not only will everyone try to act old, but everyone will try to “look” old. In the 22nd century, people won’t obsess over youth anymore but instead over age. Wrinkles won’t be hidden but they’ll be manufactured and fashionable, gray hair will be cosmetic, and surgery won’t be about lifting but it’ll be about settling. Looking old will signal wisdom, moral authority, safety, and trustworthiness, youth might be seen as irresponsible and dangerous. Everyone will want to look like they’ve already lived long enough and to be seen as harmless, wanting to be seen as “the innocent looking old lady from across the street”.

So yes, I fully expect soap opera slop to be everywhere within the next century. And with all the tradwife stuff going around, don't be surprised if in 80 to 90 years, all the young women are dressing like grandmothers. There seems to be a general trend in regards to moving away from sexual expression. Apparently, many porn stars are quitting the industry and trying to get their content removed from these sites. I predict that the 22nd century will be much more prudish than the world we've grown accustomed to. As the more promiscuous era of the maiden ages into the more reserved era of the crone. For better or worse, people are soon reaching the acceptance stage, accepting that life is much more limiting than they've been led to believe, and they are adjusting accordingly. This is the stoic resignation of the crone, the wisdom that the loss cannot be avoided, that we simply have to make do with less than we'd hoped for.