At the end of the day, most of us want the same things—good food, good work, good people, and enough time to enjoy them. If we can stop criticizing long enough to collaborate, we’ll get there faster.
Let’s be honest: every generation thinks the next one is doing it wrong.
I grew up in the first wave of kids who had dial-up internet in the house and Nokia bricks in our pockets. Now I work in food and write about personal growth, so I see generational friction play out at tables, in kitchens, and online. The truth? A lot of what we criticize younger people for are adaptations to a different world. Not moral failings. Just new tools, new constraints, new norms.
Here are ten things I think we should retire from the criticism menu.
1) Phones at the table
I’ve run enough dining rooms to know the phone isn’t going anywhere. Is it rude when someone scrolls through dinner? Sure. But most of what I see isn’t disrespect. It’s note-taking, bill-splitting, checking the train schedule, snapping a quick photo so they can remember a dish or recommend the restaurant later.
In hospitality, we used to say, “Meet the guest where they are.” If the phone helps them engage—looking up an ingredient, confirming a friend’s arrival—that’s connection, not disconnection. We can model boundaries without scolding. “Let’s do five phone-free minutes while we taste these oysters” lands better than “Put that thing away.”
2) Job-hopping
I used to think staying put was the gold standard. Stick it out. Climb the ladder. But the ladder has fewer rungs now. Companies reorg. Teams pivot. Whole industries shift in a quarter. Younger professionals collect skills like chefs collect knives: each move adds a blade that does something specific.
When I worked in luxury F&B, the best sous-chefs weren’t the ones who spent a decade in one kitchen. They staged around the city, learned different systems, and came back sharper. Job-hopping with intention isn’t flakiness. It’s portfolio building. If we see a résumé with six roles in seven years, the question isn’t “What’s wrong with them?” It’s “What did they learn, and how quickly do they contribute?”
3) Wanting flexible work
This one gets framed as entitlement. I think it’s evidence of focus. Most deep work—writing, analysis, coding, design—happens when you can control your environment. Offices were designed for coordination, not concentration.
Younger folks want hybrid schedules, not because they hate teams, but because they understand their own attention. They’ll do the meetings in person, then go home to grind in a quiet space. When I stopped judging and started measuring outcomes, I ate my words. Fewer hours in chairs. Better results on paper.
4) Caring about mental health
“Back in my day we just dealt with it” is a badge that often hides bruises. The younger generations talk openly about therapy, medication, boundaries, and burnout. That’s not weakness. That’s skill. We didn’t have the language, or we didn’t feel allowed to use it.
As someone who’s watched dining-room stress turn into short tempers and sleepless nights, I’m grateful for the upgrade. A line cook who can say, “I need a breather so I don’t blow up at table 14” is a pro. A young manager who blocks a no-meeting hour daily? Also a pro. If anything, this is a place where we can learn from them.
5) Eating “weird” or “overly curated” food
Yes, there’s a lot of food content. Yes, some of it is ridiculous. But the curiosity underneath is real. Younger diners care about sourcing, seasonality, and how their food choices affect the world. That’s not pretension. That’s literacy.
I’ve stood behind a pass watching a table of twenty-somethings ask smart questions about the provenance of a cheese or the sustainability of a fish. They tipped well, treated staff kindly, and posted a thoughtful review. If anything, they raised the bar for all diners.
As someone who still loves a perfectly grilled steak and a bowl of buttered pasta, I’m not threatened by oat milk or gochujang on weeknights. It’s all part of a bigger, more interesting pantry.
6) Posting everything
It’s popular to sneer at “doing it for the ’gram.” But I’ve also seen social posts fill a dining room, fund a local bakery’s expansion, and get a farmer’s peaches sold out before noon. Documentation is marketing. It’s community. It’s memory.
We can nudge toward presence—some experiences really are better unfilmed—without mocking the instinct to share. I’ve found a simple practice helps: take the photo, then put the phone down and actually taste the thing. The younger folks at the table usually do this naturally. They snap quick, then tune back in.
Maybe the real critique should go to the older guy who spends three minutes trying to find the perfect angle under a pendant light. (Guilty.)
7) Refusing to tolerate bad managers
When I was coming up, you absorbed a certain amount of nonsense because “that’s the industry.” Screaming chef? Normal. 70-hour weeks? Earn your stripes. Younger people are pushing back. They leave toxic environments faster. They document. They talk. They find places where respect isn’t a perk—it’s policy.
That’s not fragility. That’s standards. Kitchens that adopted fair scheduling, clear training paths, and zero-tolerance policies for harassment didn’t get softer. They got better. Lower turnover. Fewer costly mistakes. Higher morale. The old way wasn’t efficient; it was expensive in ways we didn’t measure.
8) Expecting transparency about money
This one stings because we were taught money was private. Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Meanwhile, secrecy benefited the people writing the checks. Younger workers swap salary info, post ranges publicly, and ask about equity, benefits, and pay bands in the first interview.
If you’ve ever costed a menu, you know transparency is the only way to hit your numbers. The same is true for careers. When people have real data, they make better decisions. I’ve watched juniors negotiate politely and get more because they came prepared. We can either be offended that they asked, or impressed that they did the math. I choose the latter.
9) Prioritizing values over “the deal”
A lot of criticism boils down to “Why won’t they just take the win?” Because the definition of a win changed. Younger consumers and employees will pass on cheap if the company treats people badly or the product trashes the planet. They’ll skip an offer if the culture doesn’t align. They’ll pay more for quality and ethics.
Is every boycott coherent? No. Is public pressure messy? Absolutely. But the operating system underneath is better than the one we ran: conscience counts. If your brand, restaurant, or team leads with integrity, this generation will show up and bring friends. If not, they’ll walk. That’s not cancel culture. That’s market feedback.
10) Talking about boundaries
And finally, boundaries. We learned to prove commitment by being always available. Answer the email at 10 p.m. Take the call on a Sunday. Say yes to the extra shift even if you’re wrecked. Younger people do it differently. They protect sleep. They name limits. They turn off. Then they turn on and actually deliver.
As the last point to land this, I’ll add: boundaries aren’t walls against love or loyalty. They’re the rails that keep a train from jumping the track. When I started protecting my own time—no meetings before coffee, workouts treated like appointments—my output improved. If we stop criticizing and start copying, we might feel better and get more done.
The bottom line
Every generation inherits a different kitchen to cook in. The tools change. The heat changes. The ticket times get shorter. It’s easy to stand in the pass and yell that the new crew is ruining the soup. It’s harder—and more useful—to taste what they’re making and figure out what we can learn.
Younger people aren’t lazy for wanting flexibility. They’re optimizing for focus. They aren’t fragile for caring about mental health. They’re building resilience on purpose. They aren’t disloyal for job-hopping. They’re assembling a skill set that fits a volatile world. They aren’t shallow for posting. They’re building networks that keep small businesses alive.
If you’re worried tradition is dying, start a new one: mentor without condescension. Offer context instead of lectures. Ask questions instead of assuming. “What would make this role sustainable for you?” is a better conversation than “When I was your age…” And if you want respect from younger generations, give it first. People rise to the expectations baked into the room.
At the end of the day, most of us want the same things—good food, good work, good people, and enough time to enjoy them. If we can stop criticizing long enough to collaborate, we’ll get there faster. The menu is bigger now. Let’s order widely. Let’s share. And let’s leave a better tip—for the folks coming up behind us and for the ones who taught us how to carry the tray in the first place.
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