The Fourth Turning

In the cyclical theory of history proposed by William Strauss and Neil Howe, the Fourth Turning represents a period of profound upheaval, a secular crisis that fundamentally reshapes the social, political, and spiritual landscape. At its core, this crisis is not merely institutional or economic; it is deeply spiritual, marking a moment when collective meaning collapses, and society must forge a new sense of purpose from the ruins of the old order.

The spiritual crisis of a Fourth Turning emerges when the foundations of shared belief systems crumble. Traditional institutions (government, religion, education, and family structures) lose their authority and credibility. The narratives that once provided coherence to public life no longer resonate, leaving individuals and communities adrift in a sea of uncertainty. This is not simply a matter of institutions failing to perform their functions. Rather, it reflects a deeper rupture: the loss of a unifying story about who we are, what we value, and where we are heading as a society. When these existential anchors dissolve, people experience a collective crisis of meaning that demands resolution.

During a Fourth Turning, the erosion of institutional trust accelerates dramatically. Governments appear ineffective or corrupt; religious organizations seem disconnected from contemporary moral challenges; educational systems fail to prepare young people for an uncertain future. These institutions, which once mediated between individual lives and larger cosmic or national purposes, can no longer perform that essential function. This collapse creates both danger and opportunity. The vacuum left by failing institutions can be filled by authoritarian movements, tribal identities, or cynical nihilism. But it also opens space for genuine innovation, for the creation of new structures more responsive to emerging realities.

The Fourth Turning intensifies generational tensions. Younger generations, sensing that inherited norms no longer serve them, reject the assumptions of their elders. They see traditional paths (stable careers, conventional family structures, and established political processes) as obsolete or fraudulent. Meanwhile, older generations often cling defensively to familiar patterns, even as those patterns demonstrably fail. This generational conflict is more than a simple clash of age groups. It represents a struggle over which values will define the emerging order.

The young carry forward the task of creative destruction, clearing away what no longer works. But renewal requires wisdom from multiple generations, the idealism of youth tempered by the hard-won experience of age.

The Revolutionary Crisis of the 1770s was fundamentally spiritual. American colonists faced a profound question: Who are we? The answer could no longer be “loyal British subjects.” The institutions connecting them to the Crown (royal governors, Anglican church hierarchies, and mercantile regulations) had become oppressive rather than protective. Out of this crisis emerged a radical new identity. Americans defined themselves through Enlightenment principles of self-governance, natural rights, and civic virtue. They created institutions (constitutional democracy, separation of powers, and religious pluralism) designed to embody these new values. The spiritual crisis had generated not just political independence but a transformative national mythos.

The Crisis of the 1860s forced Americans to confront the fundamental contradiction in their founding vision: the existence of slavery in a nation dedicated to liberty. This was not merely a political or economic dispute; it was a spiritual catastrophe that split churches, sundered families, and ultimately required bloodshed to resolve. The spiritual dimension of this crisis appeared in the moral intensity both sides brought to the conflict. Abolitionists framed the struggle in terms of divine justice and human dignity. The war itself became, in Lincoln’s words, a test of whether a nation “conceived in liberty” could endure. The resolution, however incomplete, established new moral foundations for American identity.

The Crisis of the 1930s and 1940s shattered faith in laissez-faire capitalism and rugged individualism. When the economy collapsed, millions discovered that individual effort and traditional virtues offered no protection against systemic failure. The spiritual crisis lay in confronting the inadequacy of cherished beliefs about self-reliance and market wisdom. The New Deal and the mobilization for World War II represented more than policy responses. They articulated a new understanding of community obligation, collective security, and the proper role of government in protecting human dignity. This spiritual transformation, from individualist to communitarian values, shaped American life for generations.

We find ourselves in a Fourth Turning now, experiencing the characteristic features of spiritual crisis in distinctly modern forms. Trust in major institutions has reached historic lows. Partisan divisions have hardened into tribal identities. Traditional news media, once gatekeepers of shared reality, compete with countless alternative sources, leaving no common ground for public discourse. This fragmentation reflects a deeper spiritual problem: the absence of a compelling shared story about national purpose. Without such a narrative, politics devolves into zero-sum competition between irreconcilable worldviews. Each side sees the other not as fellow citizens with different views but as existential threats to everything meaningful.

Movements challenging racial injustice, gender inequality, and economic exploitation signal more than political organizing. They represent a fundamental questioning of the legitimacy of existing structures.

These movements ask: Do our institutions embody genuine justice, or do they perpetuate historical inequities under the guise of neutrality? This questioning has a spiritual dimension. It forces a reckoning with uncomfortable truths about how power operates and whose interests institutions truly serve. For some, this reckoning feels like necessary moral progress. For others, it feels like the dissolution of cherished principles and the demonization of their heritage. This tension itself exemplifies the spiritual crisis.

Rising rates of anxiety, depression, and suicide (particularly among young people) suggest more than individual psychological problems. They indicate a collective existential crisis. When meaning-making institutions fail, when the future appears uncertain and threatening, when traditional sources of purpose seem hollow, psychological distress becomes inevitable. The mental health crisis is inseparable from the spiritual crisis. People need not just economic security or physical health but a sense that their lives matter, that they belong to something larger than themselves, that the world makes sense. When these needs go unmet, suffering follows.

Fourth Turnings are not merely destructive; they are also creative. The breakdown of old forms creates space for new ones. But renewal doesn’t happen automatically. It requires conscious effort, wisdom, and courage. For institutions to regain trust, they must demonstrate genuine responsiveness to people’s needs and transparent accountability for their actions. This means leaders who prioritize service over self-interest, processes that invite meaningful participation, and structures flexible enough to adapt to changing circumstances. Crucially, rebuilt institutions must embody the values people actually hold rather than the values elites wish them to hold. Legitimacy cannot be imposed from above; it must be earned through demonstrable commitment to the common good.

Bridging generational divides requires more than tolerance; it demands genuine dialogue. Younger generations bring energy, idealism, and fresh perspectives essential for innovation. Older generations carry experience, institutional knowledge, and hard-won wisdom about human nature and social complexity. When generations engage in authentic conversation (listening to understand rather than to refute), they can forge hybrid visions that honor both continuity and change.

Such dialogue is difficult work, requiring patience and humility from all sides. But it is essential for creating a renewed sense of shared purpose.

Spiritual renewal in a pluralistic age looks different from religious revival in more homogeneous societies. It involves the emergence of new practices, new communities, and new ways of making meaning that address contemporary conditions while drawing on ancient wisdom. We see this in the proliferation of meditation practices, in grassroots community organizing, in the work search that feels purposeful, in renewed interest in indigenous wisdom, and in creative expressions of solidarity and resistance. These diverse forms of spiritual seeking and building represent society’s immune system responding to crisis, generating antibodies against nihilism and despair.

The spiritual crisis of a Fourth Turning is harrowing. It strips away comforting illusions and familiar certainties. It exposes the inadequacy of institutions we once trusted and values we once cherished. It forces us to confront fundamental questions we might prefer to avoid: What do we truly believe? What are we willing to sacrifice? What kind of world do we want to create?

But crisis also means threshold, a dangerous passage that leads somewhere new. The chaos of institutional collapse contains within it the seeds of renewal. The urgency of existential questions awakens creative energy. The breakdown of old forms makes space for new ones better suited to emerging realities. We cannot prevent the crisis, but we can choose how we meet it. We can descend into tribalism and violence, or we can rise to the challenge of conscious collective transformation. We can allow fear to drive us toward authoritarian simplicity, or we can embrace the difficult work of building genuinely responsive institutions.

It demands that we become more honest, more courageous, more creative, and more compassionate than we knew we could be. In responding to that demand, we discover resources within ourselves and within our communities that surprise us.