I renamed and redrew all 78 cards, first for Millennials like me, then (with help) for Gen Z. I wanted each one to be:
The Original
When it looks like this,
you look it up.
These, you just get.
Said how
you’d say itThe original name
is still on it
Shining looks
different now.
The Original
When it looks like this,
you look it up.
Said how
you’d say itThe original name
is still on it
Shown with Gen Z Tarot, its other half in the bundle: its own 78 cards, 136-page guidebook and box.
Most people end up with both — save $11 when you get both.





About the Creator
Scott Bergman is a Millennial. He was a painter, then an Apple designer, lived in Buddhist monasteries, did van life and met his wife on Hinge. He still can’t buy a house. He wants to be happy, like everyone. Buddhism and psychology taught him a lot. Using it was the hard part: in the moment, recognizing which pattern you’re in and what wisdom applies. He wanted to make it easier without watering it down. Tarot already maps 78 of those patterns. His hope was to show each pattern the way we live it now, and make timeless wisdom so accessible to grasp.
In San Francisco I kept seeing the same thing in my generation: we’d moved away from traditional religion but hadn’t lost the desire. Burning Man, meditation apps, epiphanies at EDM shows, finding your tribe at CrossFit. Same timeless patterns and need for ritual and community, different characters, venues and lingo. Tarot held the same patterns; its old language just hid them.
After a publishing deal, a Gen Z version felt obvious. I drafted cards myself, showed them to my wife Nicole’s Gen Z sister and her friends, and realized I was very, very off. Hailey Alt came on and everything unlocked: her timing and cultural ear, my structure and symbolism. Months of spreadsheets and re-votes later: 78 names, funny, sharp and still real tarot.
My great-grandfather started a printing business in New York. My dad printed the first Millennial Tarot decks himself, and during COVID my mom (aka “The Mothership”) shipped them from a spare bedroom. When demand outgrew the bedroom, Running Press, a Hachette imprint, took over.
Occasional emails when new decks drop or a card wants to find you. Unsubscribe whenever.

