10 things millennials silently judge boomers for

Let’s be honest: most of us aren’t trying to start a generational war.

We’re just noticing patterns—little frictions that show up at work, at the dinner table, and in group chats.

Here are ten behaviors that quietly set our teeth on edge, plus what would make the gap a lot smaller.

1. Back-in-my-day monologues

A good story beats a lecture every time.

What stings is when nostalgia turns into a blunt instrument: “We did it this way, so you should too.”

Context matters. Rents are different. Career ladders are different. Attention spans (and the competition for them) are different. When the past is used to dismiss the present, it can feel like our realities are being graded on a curve we didn’t agree to.

I’m all for lessons from experience. The win is when those stories end with a question—“How does that land for you today?”—not a verdict.

2. Dismissal of mental health

Nothing ends a brave share faster than, “We just pushed through it.”

Yes, grit is valuable. But it’s not the only tool. Many of us grew up with language for anxiety, burnout, trauma, and therapy.

We’re not glamorizing stress; we’re trying to treat it. When panic attacks get framed as “just nerves,” it doesn’t make us tougher. It makes us quieter.

A better move: treat mental health like dental health—routine, preventive, and not a secret.

3. Phone calls at all hours

Marshall McLuhan said it decades ago: “The medium is the message.”

Drop-in phone calls at 10 p.m. or mid-workday feel like barging into a room without knocking. Text first is our version of courtesy. It’s not cold—it’s consent. It lets us finish a thought, wrap a task, or step into a quiet space before we switch modes.

If the relationship matters, the channel should, too.

4. Reply-all emails

You know the one: a 20-person chain, a congratulatory note, and then—boom—“Thanks!” x 19.

Email is a tool, not a trophy case. Reply-all drains time, floods inboxes, and buries the one message that actually needs action. What we notice most isn’t the extra noise; it’s the lack of consideration behind it.

Two fixes: use group chats or channels for chatter, and reserve email for decisions and docs.

5. Work equals time at desk

Some of us do our best thinking on a walk, at a standing desk, or after a midday workout.

When productivity gets measured by hours in a chair, we stop optimizing for output and start optimizing for optics. That’s how you get presenteeism—people staying late to look committed instead of moving the needle.

The internet decoupled place from output; clinging to “butts in seats” feels like grading with an abacus.

Judge the work, not the theater. Results > rituals.

6. Bootstraps money myths

“I bought my first house at 24” hits different when the math no longer works.

Wages, tuition, and housing diverged in ways that can’t be fixed with fewer lattes. I’ve mentioned this before but comparing eras without adjusting for costs and risk is like comparing a flip phone to a smartphone on battery life—it ignores the load.

When financial advice skips structural realities, it sounds like moral judgment.

We still want the wisdom—negotiation tips, investing basics, what you wish you knew. Just skip the shaming. Respect starts where assumptions end.

7. Climate blind spots at the table

Some of us went vegan or plant-forward because food is the lever we control every day.

When that gets mocked as a “phase,” it signals that comfort outranks consequence. I don’t expect everyone to change their plate overnight. I do hope for curiosity: ask why we care, not why we’re “so extreme.” You might hear about animals, air, allergies, or simply feeling better.

Even small shifts—meatless Mondays, less food waste, more seasonal produce—tell us you see the stakes.

8. Social media lectures

Social media didn’t break society; it amplified it.

We grew up decoding tone through emojis, reading subtext in a three-second Story, and spotting misinformation because we’ve been burned by it. When every platform gets written off as “narcissism,” it misses the relationships, communities, and activism that live there.

Try this: ask what we actually get from a platform before you grade it. I learned more about photography from Instagram reels than I did in a semester-long elective.

Tools are neutral; usage isn’t.

9. Refusal to upgrade skills

“As Marshall Goldsmith puts it, ‘What got you here won’t get you there.’”

That line isn’t a takedown; it’s a permission slip. The world pressures everyone to relearn, whether it’s cloud docs, AI-assist, or basic keyboard shortcuts that save hours a week. When new tools get dismissed as fads, it saddles teams with avoidable friction and hands competitors an advantage.

You don’t have to love every update. But showing you’re willing to learn is a leadership move that never goes out of style.

10. One-way respect for titles

We’re told to respect titles and tenure. Fair.

But respect that only flows up feels like a traffic law that applies to other people. When entry-level employees are talked over, when names get mispronounced after multiple corrections, when interns’ ideas get used without credit—that sticks.

Titles can organize a team, but they don’t determine who has good ideas.

Respect is a two-lane road. Everyone notices who yields, who signals, who merges.

So what do we actually want?

It’s not perfection. It’s presence. Listen before you advise. Ask before you call. Learn before you judge.

I say this as someone who has definitely overexplained TikTok to an uncle at Thanksgiving and watched his eyes glaze over. Empathy cuts both ways.

If we’re asking you to embrace password managers and pronouns in email signatures, we also owe you patience when you’re trying to find the unmute button on Zoom. Growth is a shared project.

A few olive branches that always land:

• Curiosity over certainty. “Tell me how you’re thinking about this” changes the whole room.

• Stories that end with questions. Advice hits better when invited.

• Micro-upgrades. One new shortcut, one new app, one new habit. Progress compounding quietly.

I’ll end with a line from Maya Angelou I come back to often: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

That’s the north star. For all of us.

If any of this stung, that might be the most hopeful part. It means you care. It means we’ve got something to work with—together.