As a leader, do you speak Gen Z?
Let’s talk about Gen Z.
Not in the eye-roll, “kids these days” way. And not in the overly-sanitized, “they just need more empathy” way, either.
What I’m hearing from senior leaders right now requires guidance that’s more specific — because they’re dealing with real pain points:
Turnover that feels disproportionate
Communication that comes across as overconfident or overly direct
Feedback that’s acknowledged… and then seemingly ignored
Claims of exhaustion that don’t match the observable workload
Most of the executives I work with aren’t managing Gen Z day to day, but they are feeling the downstream effects — in execution, engagement, and leadership time.
And here’s the thing: This isn’t a Gen Z problem. It’s a leadership problem — showing up at a generational fault line.
Ask yourself: Which Gen Z behaviors frustrate me most, and what assumptions am I making about intent?
A quick reality check
Before we go any further, it’s worth remembering: every generation has said some version of this about the next one.
Aristotle complained about young people in the 4th century BC.
And if you’re a parent like I am, you already know we’ve raised kids very differently than we were raised — more choice, more voice, more explanation.
None of that is bad, but it does mean we’re raising people who learned process through explanation, not assumption.
And then we drop them into workplaces that run almost entirely on unspoken roles and wonder why they struggle.
I see this a lot, firsthand.
In my NYU master’s class, I recently had to reintroduce myself as Professor Landis, not Kathryn, because my students were getting a little too familiar.
I also had to enforce a firm policy for the first time: if you weren’t in the room by 10:01 a.m., you weren’t allowed in.
The usual late arrivals tested it. I held the line.
What surprised me most wasn’t that the behavior stopped (it did, immediately) — it was how many students thanked me afterward. The lateness hadn’t just affected me; it had been disruptive to them too.
Structure didn’t alienate them. It relieved them.
That’s where many leaders misread the moment: what feels like flexibility from the top often lands as uncertainty for everyone else.
Three pesky Gen Z “quirks” — and how to solve them
1. “They say thanks… and then nothing changes”
A senior leader noticed a pattern: early-career employees would respond to feedback with a quick “Got it — thanks!”
And then repeat the same behavior weeks later.
To her, it felt dismissive. Like the feedback hadn’t landed.
What was really happening wasn’t defiance — it was under-specified expectations.
Many Gen Z professionals were never taught:
How to reflect learning out loud
How to articulate behavior change
How to close the feedback loop
To them, “thank you” meant politeness — not integration.
The shift isn’t lowering the bar. It’s making reflection explicit.
She began asking one follow-up question every time: “What will you do differently moving forward?”
She also normalized this as a team standard, not a correction.
The result? Learning stuck — because clarity replaced guesswork.
If learning isn’t sticking, don’t soften the feedback. Make reflection visible, because clarity beats courtesy every time.
2. “They’re exhausted — but they work 40 hours and have no commute”
Another leader was baffled when a Gen Z employee rated their work-life balance poorly despite:
a strict 40-hour workweek
no commute
full remote flexibility
To senior leaders, it felt wildly out of touch. But it’s not entitlement — it’s a mismatch in mental models of work.
For many early-career professionals:
“Busy” feels like “always on”
Effort registers as emotional depletion, not pride
They haven’t yet learned what sustainable intensity looks like over time
They weren’t saying, “This is unfair.” They were saying, “I don’t yet know how to carry this.”
The coaching move wasn’t debating reality, it was anchoring expectations.
Language like: “This is what a full-time job feels like — and we can talk about how to manage your energy inside it.”
Leaders became the other adult in the room — not dismissing feelings, but providing context.
Don’t waste time arguing with feelings. Instead, teach perspective.
Early-career professionals don’t need less work, they just need a clearer frame for what work is.
Ask yourself: How do I personally define “sustainable effort,” and have I ever articulated that to my team?
3. “They don’t respond — and then stakeholders come to me”
One leader noticed a recurring pattern: when Gen Z employees didn’t respond quickly, stakeholders escalated directly to her.
She fixed it. Then she fixed it again.
And again.
And then she burned out.
This wasn’t laziness as we usually understand it. It was a missing rule of professional responsiveness.
No one had ever said:
You don’t need the answer — just acknowledgment
Silence damages trust faster than mistakes
Responsiveness is relationship-building
The shift was simple — and uncomfortable.
She stopped rescuing, and instead sent responsibility back in real time. She made employees repair the relationship themselves.
She also introduced a clear team norm: “Same-day acknowledgment is required — even if you don’t have an answer.”
If you keep fixing it, they never learn it. Stop being the safety net for habits you want to change.
Ask yourself: What “obvious” professional rules might actually be unspoken?
The bigger picture
Gen Z is entering the workforce at a precarious moment:
Entry-level roles are shrinking
AI is reshaping early career paths
Trust in institutions is fragile
They don’t need leaders who lower standards, they need leaders who name expectations clearly, model boundaries, and provide context without condescension.
And if we struggle to do that now, the next wave of talent will magnify — not solve — that problem.
Gen Alpha will have eight years of AI fluency before their first job. And they’ll make today’s challenges look quaint.
Leadership across generations isn’t about getting softer, it’s about getting clearer.
And clarity, especially right now, is a form of care.