I grew up watching relatives born in the 1960s treat life like a practical manual. Certain gestures and routines of theirs land in the present day like relics that still work quietly. They are not nostalgic props. They are small insistences about how to meet the day. You will recognise some of them straightaway and feel mildly exasperated or secretly relieved. This piece is less an anthropology lesson and more a close look at habits that read as slightly unusual now but reveal a logic you do not always want to discard.
They Write Thank You Notes Even When Email Would Do
There is a cadence to a hand written note that digital forms cannot mimic. People born in the 60s still reach for paper after a funeral meal or a kind favour. They choose slow response because the sleeve of paper makes obligations visible. It can feel antiquated in an era of instant confirmations but it also creates a pause during which gratitude actually lands. I am conflicted about this. It wastes time and yet it disciplines attention in a way notifications never will.
Why this feels odd now
Most younger people judge the act by efficiency metrics. In that calculus a text or an emoji is enough. The older practice insists that relationships deserve a small ritual. Call it excessive if you like. I call it deliberate.
They Put the Radio On Instead of a Playlist
Stations still matter to them. Live hosts who talk through the news and play records offer a human context that algorithmic shuffle cannot provide. In kitchens across Britain you will find radios tuned to a station because the voice of the presenter organizes the morning. They will laugh at adverts and grumble at the same jingles for decades. That irritation is part of the charm.
Not nostalgia exactly
This is not a refusal to adopt streaming. Many of these listeners know Spotify. They choose radio because it is incidental company rather than a curated ego chamber. The difference is subtle but real. In the days when people tuned in by ear they also learned to tolerate interludes. That tolerance makes patience a lived skill.
They Patch Clothes Rather Than Toss Them
People born in the 60s will take a favourite jumper and sew a small hole. They will patch a train case rather than throw it away. To them objects come with histories and repairs are a kind of storytelling. Younger shoppers might consider this odd because there is cheaper replacement. But repair also holds memory in place and resists a consumer rhythm that half erases value.
Repair is not always thrifty morality. Sometimes it is stubborn affection for a thing that knows the owner. That stubbornness can be admirable or slightly irrational depending on where you stand.
They Keep Redundant Paper Files
The stack of physical bills and old policies on a shelf gives some people a sense of security. They trust a paper archive more than a cloud that feels ephemeral to them. The folder is their continuity engine. It may look chaotic to a millennial who consumes everything through an app. But the folder is a map where a life gets sketched in marginalia and stamps.
Dr Diane Sanford clinical psychologist said I have seen many clients from the baby boomer cohort describe physical records as anchors to identity and continuity. The materiality matters when memory becomes patchy.
That quote is not a clinical prescription. It is an observation about the role of material things in shaping a coherent autobiographical sense.
They Use Practical Garments for Years
Think of the same trench coat with the same tiny scuff on the right sleeve. Think of shoes polished until they resemble a managed memory. People born in the 60s treat clothing as long term investment. They resist seasonal discard. There is an aesthetic consequence. They often appear less enthusiastic about trend responsiveness. They look steady not stylish by the standards of viral fashion. But steadiness has a social function. It reads as reliability in interpersonal and professional settings. There is comfort in that steadiness even when it looks stubborn.
They Phone Landlines When It Is Important
Calling through for a serious conversation rather than firing a message is still their preference. They do not treat the phone as a casual channel the way many younger people do. A landline rings and then two people must answer in real time. That demand for presence makes certain subjects less likely to be deferred. It forces a shared duration. For the listener that can be inconvenient. For the caller it is a tool that asks for full engagement.
They Keep Tea Time Sacred
This sounds charming until you realise how ritualised it is. Tea time is not a notification it is a contract. It sets the day into parts and keeps the household anchored. Younger colleagues will find the cadence quaint and sometimes irritating. They will also note that a day carved into parts has fewer runaway hours. Tea time arbitrates calm. The world could do with more arbitration.
They Prefer Physical Maps When Travelling Locally
Yes they own smartphones. Yes they use GPS sometimes. But give someone born in the 60s a folded OS map and watch how they orient. The act of unfolding is part of finding a route. The map demands a different attention. It allows failures without shame and detours without losing the sense of the surrounding landscape. It is messy. It is human. It also yields thicker memories of place.
Dr Michele Goldman Ph D media advisor at the Hope for Depression Research Foundation said generational habits often persist because they provided frameworks for predictable outcomes in uncertain times. Routines reduce cognitive load and can be protective.
There you have it again. A claim about protective routine without a promise that routines are always good. They can be conservative or comforting depending on context.
They Talk To Strangers Differently
In shops and on buses people born in the 60s will start conversations more readily with the cashier or the person across the aisle. They ask questions that presume common ground rather than privacy. Some call it forwardness. Others find it intrusive. I think it is a skill we are losing. The willingness to enter small public conversations maintains a softer civic fabric.
They Balance Frugality With Generosity
Many of them learned to economise when times were tougher. This has produced a paradoxical generosity later in life. They will economise on a toaster and then spoil the grandchildren with the most particular ice cream. The mixture of thrift and lavishness reads strangely to younger observers who expect one coherent fiscal identity. The split is in fact pragmatic and generous in its own way.
Summary Table
| Habit | How it reads today | Why it persists |
|---|---|---|
| Hand written thank you notes | Old fashioned but sincere | Creates pause and attention |
| Listening to radio | Counter cultural to playlists | Provides live human context |
| Patching clothes | Thrifty and stubborn | Holds memory and resists waste |
| Keeping paper files | Seen as clutter | Material anchors identity |
| Maintaining garments for years | Looks conservative | Signals reliability |
| Calling landlines for important talk | Feels intense | Demands presence |
| Tea time | Ritualised | Structures the day |
FAQ
Do people born in the 60s resist technology?
Not categorically. Many adopt new tools for benefits they clearly see. Resistance is selective. They will often use a smartphone for specific tasks but still prefer analogue alternatives when those feel more reliable or more human. The pattern is not binary. It is pragmatic. You will find digital photo albums alongside printed frames and social media profiles with an aversion to algorithmic recommendations.
Are these habits common to everyone born in that decade?
No. Cultural class regional upbringing and personal disposition matter as much as birth year. The observations are tendencies rather than universal truths. But they appear frequently enough that they feel recognisable across households. Remember that generations are labels that help pattern observe not fatally determine behaviour.
Do these habits make older people less adaptable?
Sometimes. Habit can calcify into stubbornness. And yet many of these same people also move into new careers volunteer in novel ways and learn new hobbies. The key is whether habit hardens or whether it stays as a practical toolkit. In many cases the habits are scaffolding rather than shackles.
Should younger people adopt any of these practices?
Selective adoption can be useful. Slowing down to write a note or to repair something cultivates different attentions and different values. It is worth trying not as moral posturing but as a small experiment in living with different tempos. The trick is to borrow what helps without becoming a caricature.
Do these tendencies influence politics or community life?
They do in aggregate. Habits of conversation media consumption and voting rhythms shape public life. A generation that prizes steadiness may prefer institutions that feel stable. That is not a deterministic statement. It is an observation that behaviour ripples into larger patterns over time.
In the end these practices read as unusual because they demand a different pace and different kinds of attention than our current defaults. They can feel irritating or admirable depending on whether you value immediacy over continuity. I often find myself borrowing a habit or two and then wondering why I ever stopped doing them. The older rhythms are not always superior. They are simply reminders that speed is not the only metric worth living by.
