History Rhymes: Why the 2020s Feel Like the 1970s All Over Again — and What Comes Next

Five years ago, I wrote that we were heading back into a time like the 1970s — and that the 2010s had been our modern version of the 1960s. I wasn’t trying to be a prophet; I was just paying attention. The rhythms of history have a habit of looping back on themselves, and lately, the echo has been getting louder. 

Look around. Inflation, strikes, energy insecurity, cynical politics, culture wars, and a public mood caught between exhaustion and defiance. You can almost hear the whir of a tape recorder and smell the damp corduroy. It’s not nostalgia — it’s déjà vu with a data plan. 

But this isn’t coincidence. History rhymes because human nature doesn’t change as fast as technology does. Every few decades, we climb a mountain of optimism, overreach, lose our footing, and tumble down into realism again. Then we rebuild — often stronger, wiser, and a bit less smug. 

The 1960s were all about belief in progress. The 2010s, their digital twin, were much the same: open borders, open data, open minds. Both decades were times of optimism, experimentation, and social liberalisation. Then came the hangover. The 1970s brought inflation, strikes, oil shocks, and political paralysis. The 2020s are serving up their own version — cost of living crisis, energy insecurity, cultural fragmentation, and the slow decay of institutions that once felt eternal. 

So yes, the rhyme is real. But understanding why helps us see what comes next — because after the 1970s came the 1980s. A decade of re-ordering, of hard-edged pragmatism after idealistic drift. The same will happen again. The only question is who will be ready for it. 

Why history rhymes 

The past doesn’t repeat itself, but it does hum the same tune. The melody comes from five repeating instruments: 

1. The innovation cycle

Every major technological leap — railways, electricity, computing, the internet, AI — brings a burst of optimism and wealth. But it also concentrates power and destabilises the social contract. The early winners get rich, the middle gets squeezed, and the system strains. The next phase is always regulation, realism, and rediscovery of limits. 

We’re now at that stage with digital technology. The internet promised liberation; it delivered distraction and dependency. AI promises salvation; it will deliver both miracles and messes. 

2. The generational cycle

Every 25–30 years, a generation that didn’t live through the last crisis inherits power. They remember the good times, not the reasons the bad times ended. So they repeat the same mistakes — different language, same logic. It’s why financial bubbles, ideological zeal, and naïve idealism never die; they just change outfit. 

3. The political pendulum

Societies swing. Liberalisation brings creativity but also inequality. Inequality fuels resentment, and resentment fuels populism. Populism burns itself out, paving the way for competence to return. We’ve seen this film before, and we’re currently somewhere near the end of Act Two — the bit where the audience gets restless and just wants someone to fix the projector. 

4. The resource constraint

The 1970s had OPEC and oil shocks. We have energy transition bottlenecks, rare earth shortages, and supply-chain fragility. Different cause, same effect: inflation, insecurity, and the sense that we’re living beyond our means. 

5. Institutional decay

After long periods of peace and prosperity, institutions ossify. Bureaucracies forget their purpose and exist to protect themselves. Public trust erodes. Eventually, the public rebels — not always with pitchforks, but with apathy and avoidance. Sound familiar? 

Together, these forces explain the sense of decline many feel. But decline is often a prelude to correction. When systems break down, new ones emerge — leaner, smarter, more grounded. Which brings us to where we’re heading next. 

The coming 1980s — AI edition 

If the 2020s are the new 1970s, then the 2030s will be our 1980s: a decade of realism, re-industrialisation, and a return to competence. But this time, the battleground isn’t between socialism and capitalism; it’s between human and algorithmic decision-making. Between bureaucratic bloat and data precision. Between the comforting myth of fairness and the cold demand for results. 

Here’s how the new era is likely to unfold. 

1. From ideology to competence

Just as the 1980s buried the excesses of 1970s idealism, the next wave of leaders will focus less on gestures and more on results. Public patience for performative politics is running out. The next generation of politicians and business leaders will sound less like influencers and more like engineers: talking about systems, productivity, and outcomes. 

The question won’t be “what’s right?” but “what works?” — and that shift alone will change everything. 

2. Digital Thatcherism

AI will make states smaller but smarter. Bureaucracy will shrink as algorithms take over form-filling and compliance. Welfare and tax systems will become data-driven, not paper-based. The ideological argument will no longer be state versus market, but human versus machine. Who decides what’s fair? Who gets the final say — the civil servant, the minister, or the model? 

It will be unsettling at first, but efficiency is hard to resist once the results start showing. 

3. Re-industrialisation — this time automated

The West has realised that outsourcing everything was a mistake. The 2030s will see a return to local manufacturing — not with sweatshops, but with robotics, additive manufacturing, and small regional hubs. The new mantra will be “Made nearby”, not “Made cheap.” 

It’s the same supply-side revolution that defined the 1980s, but cleaner, more sustainable, and anchored in security rather than greed. 

4. Cultural realism

Every cultural movement overreaches before collapsing. The psychedelic 1960s gave way to punk and new wave — lean, angry, honest. The digital utopianism of the 2010s is already giving way to cynicism and truth-telling. Expect a new realism in art, media, and politics — fewer fantasies, more friction. 

The public will crave authenticity over performance. That’s healthy. 

5. Multipolar geopolitics

In the 1980s, it was America versus the Soviet Union. Now it’s America, China, Europe, India, and a resource-rich Global South. The world is breaking into spheres again, and power politics is back. 

That may sound grim, but it brings clarity. The West will rediscover that prosperity and security depend on energy, industry, and discipline — not slogans about values. It’s a humbling but necessary correction. 

6. The resilience revival

In the 1980s, self-help shelves were full of books about taking control of your destiny. Expect that mood again — only more practical, less narcissistic. After years of fragility, people are remembering that systems fail and that resilience starts at home. The next moral code will sound almost old-fashioned: work hard, stay grounded, get strong, help your neighbours. 

We might even rediscover community not as a talking point, but as a survival mechanism. 

7. Capital returning to the real

Money is already flowing back to tangible things — energy, housing, water, food, infrastructure. The speculative froth of the last twenty years will subside. Asset-light dreams will give way to asset-based realism. 

It’s a moral correction disguised as an investment trend. 

What this means for small business owners 

So, what does this all mean if you’re not running a government but a business — especially a small professional firm in a northern town? 

Quite a lot, actually. The 1980s were the decade when small entrepreneurs quietly rebuilt Britain. They didn’t have hashtags or venture capital; they had grit and ledgers. The same kind of people will rebuild the 2030s, just with cloud software and better coffee. 

1. Local trust will beat global noise

The next decade belongs to firms with roots — not remote call centres or faceless apps. In towns like Rochdale, Oldham, or Bury, personal relationships are currency again. When people are uncertain, they look for someone they can actually see. A handshake will once again be worth more than a hyperlink. 

2. Automation will replace routine, not relevance

AI will quietly strip out the repetitive 40% of work in most professions. But that’s not the end of human value — it’s the start of it. The winners will be those who act as translators: turning data into decisions, noise into clarity. 

In accountancy, for instance, the firms that position themselves as the human layer on top of automation will flourish. Those that cling to manual processes or pure compliance work will fade away. 

The clever ones will let machines do the heavy lifting — and charge for judgment. 

3. Specialism will replacegeneralism

Clients no longer want “an accountant.” They want a specialist who understands their world. 

That means every professional firm will eventually become a cluster of micro-niches under one brand: property, charities, contractors, digital start-ups. It’s the same logic that separated manufacturing into lean supply chains — focus beats breadth. 

4. Staff are your strategic asset

Good people are already harder to find than good clients. That trend will only intensify. Automation will reduce admin, but not the need for thinkers. 

The firms that invest in developing judgment, communication, and adaptability — not just technical skills — will have the only real competitive edge left. 

The future isn’t about hiring more people; it’s about building better ones. 

5. Education as marketing

In an age of confusion, the calm voice that explains wins. Firms that educate their audience — through newsletters, posts, webinars, or just plain English conversations — will attract loyalty that no advertising can buy. 

Clarity is now a service. Empathy is now a differentiator. 

6. Emotional steadiness

Clients no longer just want compliance; they want confidence. They want someone who has seen storms before and isn’t panicked by them. 

The professional of the 2030s will be part technician, part therapist — a steady hand in a digital tempest. Calm will be billable. 

7. Legacy over exit

For many owners with 10–20 years left, the question isn’t just “how do I retire?” but “what do I leave behind?” 

Building systems, culture, and leadership that can outlive you is the new succession plan. Firms with institutionalised knowledge and clean digital infrastructure will sell for higher multiples — and more importantly, endure. 

The real goal is stewardship, not cash-out. 

The road ahead 

If this all sounds like hard work — it is. But so was the 1980s. The people who thrived then weren’t necessarily the smartest; they were the ones who adapted fastest when the world changed shape. 

The same is true now. The next decade will reward clarity, resilience, and quiet competence. It will punish noise, sentimentality, and wishful thinking. It will demand we get serious again — about work, energy, money, and meaning. 

And that’s no bad thing. Because beneath all the turbulence, something honest is returning. We’re rediscovering limits, discipline, and purpose — the things that made progress possible in the first place. 

History rhymes because it’s a feedback loop. Every period of excess creates the conditions for correction. Every disillusioned generation grows up and rebuilds. Every apparent decline carries the seeds of renewal. 

The trick, as always, is not to fight the rhythm — but to keep time with it. 

Final thought 

If you’re running a small business right now, especially in the North, you’re living through the hinge point. The world is untangling itself from two decades of illusions. What comes next will be harsher, fairer, and more opportunity-rich for those who can stay calm and stay useful. 

The 2020s may feel like the 1970s — but remember what came after. 

The 2030s will belong to the builders again.