The IPs That Ate the World
By the time the Baby Boomers hit their thirties and forties, their cultural house had already undergone a complete teardown and rebuild. Every picture and stick of furniture had been tossed out and replaced wholesale.
The generation that grew up with Leave It to Beaver and Roy Rogers entered adult life to find Star Wars, The Simpsons, and NWA on every screen and speaker. Entire genres like punk and hip-hop had emerged while they were in college. Whole new media like video tapes, CDs, and video games sprang out of nowhere in less than a decade. Boomers watched the Beatles go from mop-top teens to robed mystics and then vanish, replaced by Bowie, Madonna, and Nirvana.
Boomers experienced a complete cultural turnover by the time they settled into middle age. Whether they liked it or not, the world they passed on to their kids didn’t look like the one they inherited. It was newer, louder, faster.
And theirs.
Not so much for their children.
Related: A Gen Y Timeline
Generation X and Generation Y—especially the latter—live in an entertainment landscape that looks suspiciously like the one they grew up with. If you're a Gen Y man in your late 30s or early 40s, you will recognize the standard list of entertainment options:
Watch the latest Ghostbusters sequel
Binge Stranger Things for the 80s callbacks
Buy the new He-Man toy line
See Beetlejuice 2 or Deadpool 3
Rewatch The Matrix or The Phantom Menace with your kids
Fire up Final Fantasy VII again, this time remade and re-sold in parts
Download an officially licensed G.I. Joe mobile game
Check out the latest retro-style synthwave album on Bandcamp
Boot up an indie game that looks like it escaped a 1997 demo disc.
Unlike the Baby Boomers, the IPs that dominated our childhoods never left. In fact, they’re more entrenched than ever.
While Boomers saw their childhood icons replaced by wholly new properties, we got the Corporate IP Death Cycle. The big studios aren't just mining the 80s and 90s, they've built an entire economy on them.
Related: The Corporate IP Death Cycle
How did it happen?
The simple answer is that the Boomers still control the organs of culture. Instead of making room for fresh blood, the standard story goes, they strip-mined their kids' memories for profit. Think IPs like Batman, Transformers, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. After all, those brands have been running on recycled nostalgia loops since the Bush Sr. administration.
But there’s a deeper, darker reason.
The Boomers grew up in a living culture grounded in tradition, faith, and national confidence. That culture could grow, evolve, and shed its skin when needed. Even if it rebelled against itself, as it often did, it still had a deep root system to grow back from.
Gen Y didn’t get that benefit. They came of age in the uprooted rot of that system. The mass entertainment they inherited had already gone Postmodern, irony-poisoned, and soulless.
For all the nostalgia it evokes, 80s and 90s media wasn’t created to pass on values; it was manufactured to sell toys.
Now that Gen Y are in their 30s and 40s, there’s nothing to replace the old IPs; just retreads.
That’s why Mario is still a billion-dollar franchise. It’s why Top Gun 2 made more money in 2022 than the next three original films combined. And it’s why Pokémon, Lord of the Rings, The X-Files, Jurassic Park, and Star Wars are still dominating headlines and ad budgets in 2025.
Hollywood can't let go of pre-Ground Zero IPs. Because it has nothing to replace them with.
So what happens next?
Will the 80s and 90s IPs hold their monopoly indefinitely?
After all, nothing lasts forever.
But the replacement for Current Year entertainment won’t look like the Boomer paradigm shift. And it won’t come from Hollywood, because the old studios are spent. Their only business model is necromancy: digging up the past and reanimating it just long enough to milk it again.
What comes next will come from outside the machine: new art and new stories built on older foundations than sanitized Saturday morning cartoons and plastic lunchboxes. But getting to the promised land means digging deeper than Spielberg, Lucas, or even Roddenberry. It requires rediscovering the only Christian foundation strong enough to support real stories again.
We’re already seeing flickers of the revival in the indie sphere. Authors, game devs, and film makers have stopped asking permission and creating entertainment audiences didn’t know they craved. The new class of creators aren’t ashamed of beauty. Nor are they afraid to believe in heroes … or God.
Spare no tears for the crumbling Pop Cult temple.
Its collapse can only bring cleansing and clear the way for a new future.
The question isn’t whether 90s nostalgia will last forever. It’s what we build in its place. And whether we’re ready to build at all.
Because if we don’t, the suits will keep selling us our own childhoods until there’s nothing left to exhume.
Brian Niemeier is a best-selling novelist, editor, and Dragon Award winner with over a decade in newpub. For direct, in-person writing and editing insights, join his Patreon.