The mild, abstract depression that ensues upon reading news of the world's problems and wondering, "Have we learned nothing? Why are we still so primitive that this is still an issue?"
This condition is often the result of reading far too much science fiction and, despite living in a world full of wonders, social progress (Of a sort.) and commonplace technological miracles, still not being satisfied. It lurks behind the common laments, "If we can send explorers to the Moon, surely we can...," or "Where is the [jet pack/hover board/psychohistory/robot butler/widespread metric adoption/calendar reform/cancer cure/etc.] I was promised?"
It can be considered the overhyped flipside of the equally overhyped coinage of Alvin Toffler: "future shock."
I experience this all the time when I read stories about lingering sexism, lingering homophobia, lingering racism, etc. I was born a billion years too soon.