Gen Z stereotypes are wrong, every generation shares the same human needs

Like many people of my generation, I have spent the last few years being told what is wrong with Gen Z. They have no attention span, don't want to work hard, are addicted to their phones, are too sensitive. Apparently, there are now more experts on Gen Z than there are members of Gen Z.

I decided to investigate. Not through a podcast, LinkedIn carousel, or 47-slide presentation titled 'Understanding the Gen Z Mindset,' but by doing something slightly more radical. I went and listened to them.

I started my first class as visiting faculty at a university with a question: 'Imagine this course finishes 3 months from now. You walk out thinking, 'That was one of the best electives I've ever taken.' What would have needed to happen?' The answers surprised me.


Some wanted practical skills they could use immediately. Others wanted to become better communicators, think more creatively, make better decisions, or become better storytellers. Several wanted the course to be fun. One student wanted to leave with 'a change in outlook.'

Nobody asked me how to become an influencer, start a podcast, or make ₹50 lakh from a personal brand in 30 days. Which was awkward, because I had spent the previous week preparing for a room full of social media addicts with the attention span of a goldfish on a double espresso. Instead, I found 60 young people who wanted to learn, question, grow, and be taken seriously.

What struck me most was how familiar their answers sounded. These were exactly the things my generation wanted at that age. And, I suspect, the generation before us.

Every generation complains about being stereotyped. Then, almost immediately, it stereotypes the generation that follows. My parents' generation thought we were lazy, entitled, and distracted. We were apparently going to ruin society. Society somehow staggered on despite our best efforts. Now we seem to have decided that Gen Z will be the generation that ruins it. I suspect society will survive them too.

The more time I spent with my students, the more I realised how strange the whole exercise of labelling generations is. We talk about Gen Z as though it's a single organism with one personality and a shared Netflix subscription. And we largely prefer analysing them from a safe distance, like wildlife documentaries.

Reality is far more interesting. The students challenged assumptions, questioned ideas, and disagreed respectfully. They wanted explanations, rather than instructions. And they were exceptionally good at detecting BS. Which makes sense. If you have grown up on the internet, spotting BS is a survival mechanism.

That taught me something important. You can no longer rely on authority alone. A title might get you into the room. But it does not guarantee that anyone will want to listen once you're there. Whether they are students, employees, or customers, people increasingly expect credibility before they grant attention. They want to know whether you understand them, respect them, and have something worth hearing. That applies in a classroom, a boardroom, and at the dinner table when your teenager is explaining something you are certain you invented 20 years ago.

The classroom reminded me of something that is remarkably easy to forget: people want to be heard, understood, respected, and to grow. None of those needs are unique to Gen Z. They are human needs.

Behind every generational label sits an individual trying to figure things out. Some are ambitious, some anxious, some confident, some confused. Often all before lunch.

The same could be said of many senior executives I know.

I left that classroom feeling optimistic. Not because I had discovered what Gen Z wants. But because I hadn't. I discovered 60 different people with 60 different hopes, fears, ambitions and aspirations.

And, perhaps, that's the lesson. Whether we are leading a company, teaching a class, or raising a family, the job is not to understand a category.

It's to understand the person sitting in front of you. Don't read the label. Read the human.