Gen Z’s Complex Relationship with Work (it isn’t just about mental health 😒)
I remember landing my first job and feeling that fleeting sense of pride — the promise of growth, purpose, and a chance to prove myself. That optimism didn’t last long. Behind the polished veneer of corporate culture, I found a system that seemed designed for a different era, operated by different rules, and built on assumptions that no longer hold true.
As a generation that entered adulthood amid layoffs, climate disasters, the rise of AI, and a pandemic- you start to realize that a university degree that once guaranteed success is now merely a baseline qualification. It is barely sufficient to get you in the door. I don’t know about you, but I started networking in my freshman year while juggling a part-time job, internship, leadership positions, and starting a small business.
Coveted jobs are oversaturated, internships are hyper-competitive, and the career ladder often feels like a rigged game where the rules keep shifting. To stand out, you need to show you can add value, and when everyone has a degree, sometimes you need to get a little creative.
While older generations criticize Gen Z’s apparent lack of workplace loyalty or “unrealistic” expectations, they miss a crucial point: We’re not choosing to reject traditional employment structures — we’re being forced to create alternatives because the conventional path no longer delivers on its promises.
The workplace feels fundamentally dishonest. Take the now-common practice of “quiet firing,” where companies implement 6-month-long probation periods with no promise of conversion; they keep you there just enough to ship a product that they are testing- and if it doesn’t take off? Sorry, you didn’t pass your probation.
Or making an employee leave on their own accord to avoid paying severance fees by denying them opportunities, budget cuts, having a lousy manager, lack of transparency over why we seem to be pretending to do work when there is no work to do. Or stretching employees into new roles without additional compensation under the guise of career development.
While previous generations might have viewed this as “paying your dues,” we see it for what it often is: exploitation wrapped in corporate jargon.
My own experience with technically skilled but emotionally distant managers highlighted a growing trend: as faith in corporate structures diminishes, fewer people are willing to invest in nurturing the next generation of talent. So, why am I being questioned about my loyalty when I have no guarantee my hard work will even see the light of day?
This erosion of trust manifests in every aspect of work life. Job descriptions overpromise, touting “flexibility” and “growth opportunities” only to reveal inflexible structures and stagnant roles. “Mentorship”, when it exists at all, often feels perfunctory. Those who manage to succeed often have to be generalists who are willing to do what it takes. How do you decide how to expand your energy? Where do you draw the line?
We’re often labeled as entitled or difficult, yet we’re arguably the most entrepreneurial generation in recent history. Yes, making money is more accessible now and because of that, we have more options. But not everyone can make it as a gig worker because it takes a lot to do it full-time with no safety net. We may not be the first generation to do this, but we are more empowered to innovate and think of new ways to create a life that we want to lead thanks to information becoming more accessible.
But, there is a cost to walking an alternative path. The lines between work and life may sometimes blur even further than traditional employment. Whether it is starting a business, side hustle, or investing, there seems to be no excuse but to do more, to live up to your “potential”.
Content creation transforms every moment into a potential business opportunity. Freelancing offers freedom from office politics but demands constant hustling. We’re trading one form of constraint for another, all while being criticized for not embracing the very system that failed to accommodate us.
It is confusing and sometimes, we feel lost because we cannot seem to pick a struggle and thus lack the focus to “succeed”.
The self-help industry has long preached the gospel of singular focus. From Gary Keller’s “The ONE Thing” to Cal Newport’s “Deep Work,” from Tim Ferriss’s “The 4-Hour Work Week” to James Clear’s “Atomic Habits,” the message seems clear: success comes from channeling all your energy into one direction. As Keller famously asks, “What’s the ONE Thing you can do such that by doing it everything else will be easier or unnecessary?”
While previous generations could often bet their careers on a single industry or company, we’ve watched entire sectors transform overnight. The pandemic proved that “stable” industries can crumble. AI threatens to reshape professions we once considered future-proof. In this context, the idea of going “all in” feels less like focus and more like gambling.
So, we hedge our bets. The software engineer maintains a YouTube channel. The marketing manager runs a dropshipping business on the side. The graphic designer dabbles in crypto trading. We’re not lacking focus — we’re adapting to an environment where diversification isn’t just smart, it’s survival. Each side hustle isn’t just about extra income; it’s an insurance policy against obsolescence.
This creates a peculiar form of anxiety. We know that true mastery requires deep focus, yet we can’t shake the feeling that specialization is increasingly risky. The result? A generation caught between conflicting wisdom: go all in versus don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Every hour spent deepening our expertise in one area feels like an hour we’re not spending building a safety net in another.
Personally, I’m learning to unwind years of conditioning that equate job security with self-worth. It’s a daily practice of reminding myself that my value isn’t tied to having multiple backup plans. The real journey isn’t about accumulating various income streams or padding my resume with diverse skills — it’s about building enough trust in myself to commit fully to one path, knowing that failure isn’t fatal.
My skills, adaptability, and resilience will carry me wherever I choose to go next. The challenge isn’t learning to focus; it’s learning to quiet the voice that says focusing on one thing is naive. But first, I need to acknowledge and release the fear that’s been driving me to spread myself thin — the fear that’s been masquerading as a practical career strategy.
What we crave most is authenticity — a value that seems fundamentally at odds with traditional corporate culture. We demand transparency from employers while navigating systems that often punish honesty and reward performance. The irony isn’t lost on us: many still pursue prestigious company names for their resumes while simultaneously critiquing these companies’ cultures.
This contradiction reflects a broader tension in our relationship with work. We want meaningful engagement but face environments designed for compliance. We seek work-life balance but often end up in roles that demand constant connectivity. We value authenticity but operate in systems that incentivize conformity.
The reality is that the workplace isn’t just failing Gen Z — it’s failing everyone. The difference is that we’re the first generation to enter the workforce with both the technological literacy and the collective skepticism to challenge these structures openly.
Our generation’s approach to work isn’t about entitlement or laziness — it’s about adaptation. When traditional paths fail to provide stability or fulfillment, we create alternatives. When corporate cultures prove toxic, we build communities elsewhere. When conventional success metrics feel hollow, we define new ones.
The workplace must change, not just for Gen Z’s sake, but because the current model is unsustainable for everyone. We need environments that foster genuine connection, value authentic contribution, and recognize that work should enhance life, not consume it.
As someone who has navigated both conventional and non-conventional roles, I’ve learned that there’s no perfect solution. The key isn’t to completely reject traditional structures or blindly embrace alternatives — it’s to advocate for meaningful change while creating new possibilities.
Gen Z has always been adapting, the real question is whether traditional workplace structures will adapt to the future we’re creating. Because while we may be the ones challenging the status quo, the changes we’re pushing for would benefit workers of all generations.