This article is adapted from Ted's podcast episode 358: The Future Begins with Z: A Conversation with Author Dr. Tim Elmore.

There's a moment that happened to my friend Tim Elmore that perfectly captures the generational divide we're navigating right now. Colin Webb, fresh out of MIT, walked into General Motors brimming with ideas. Within months, he'd identified systems that could work better, professional development that could be stronger, strategies that could be sharper. He was 22 years old, seeing things the veterans couldn't see.

So he did what any passionate young professional would do: he took his ideas to a supervisor. The response? "Keep your head to the grindstone, buddy. Be quiet. Just do your work."

But Colin wasn't done. He wrote directly to CEO Mary Barra. She loved his ideas. The executive team loved his ideas. And then, as these things often go, those brilliant insights died somewhere in middle management. Colin was told he'd need to stick around for eight years before he could lead anything. He left within a year. He's since started three companies and sold one of them. GM missed out on a remarkable young leader because they valued their policies over their progress.

The Sandpaper We Didn't Know We Needed

My friend Teresa said something that stopped me in my tracks: "Generation Z is the sandpaper on my leadership I did not know I needed."

And friends, they're not 220 grit. They're 80 grit. They're rough, they're direct, and they're reshaping everything we thought we knew about work, loyalty, and leadership. But here's what we're missing: they're not the problem. We are.

I've spent my career in education, watching generation after generation enter our schools and workplaces. And every single time, I hear the same chorus from older generations: "Kids today. They don't have what we had. They don't work like we worked. They don't value what we value." It's exhausting. And it's wrong.

What It's Really Like to Be Them

Let me paint you a picture of what Generation Z has lived through. They were born into or just before September 11th. Think about that for a moment. When my son was born, that same timespan was what separated me from Pearl Harbor. I wasn't thinking about Pearl Harbor as a kid, but you know who was? My grandparents and my parents. These kids were born into Pearl Harbor.

Then came the mortgage meltdown. Racial strife. A second recession that historians will likely call the second Great Depression. World conflicts with their friends, parents, aunts, and uncles deployed. And then COVID hit, transforming their entire educational experience into pixels on a screen. Now they're entering the workplace, and we're surprised they're not immediately loyal to our institutions? Friends, they've watched every major institution fail them. They were the first generation ever to be laid off in their teens during the pandemic. The first ones let go when companies needed to cut costs.

And we want to talk to them about loyalty?

The Beautiful Paradox

Here's what fascinates me about Generation Z: they're bringing back permanence.

My kids, millennials and Gen Z alike, are buying vinyl records. They're purchasing film cameras. They're choosing cassette tapes. Walk into a record store today, and you'll find it packed with young people holding Fleetwood Mac, Leonard Skinner, Aretha Franklin, Duran Duran, and Harry Styles all at once. Four decades of music in their hands simultaneously.

There's something intuitive happening here. Neil Howe and William Strauss discovered 25 years ago that every new generation breaks with the previous generation, corrects two generations ahead, and replaces three generations ahead. These kids are watching their grandparents leave this earth, and somewhere deep in their bones, they're replacing what once was. Not philosophically. Intuitively.

What We're Getting Wrong About Work Ethic

Tim Elmore shared a story that gutted me. He was in a focus group with Natalie, a 21-year-old in California. The conversation turned to work ethic, and Tim mentioned how supervisors complain that Gen Z leaves right at 5 PM. Natalie looked at him and said, "Do you know why I leave right at five? Because I have to rush to another job. This one doesn't pay me enough to cover my bills. And after that second job, I rush over to take care of my mother who has stage four cancer." Then she added, "I think I've got maybe a better work ethic than my supervisor does."

We need to swallow our stereotypes and start listening.

They're Not Asking for Much

When Tim surveyed over 2,000 people and held focus groups from California to Georgia, he discovered something powerful: Gen Z leaves organizations for four clear reasons. They get bored. They need more money. They don't fit. Or they have a bad boss.

Sound familiar? That's because it's the same for all of us. But here's the difference: they're not willing to suffer through it like previous generations did. And maybe, just maybe, that's not a character flaw. Maybe it's wisdom.

What they really want is growth and meaning. They want to learn new skills. They want professional development. They want to understand how even menial tasks connect to the bigger mission.

Here's the secret: what you lack in cash, you can make up for in culture. If it's a culture of growth, you'll keep them.

The Moon Shot We're Missing

In July 1969, we landed a man on the moon. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin stepped onto lunar soil, accomplishing something humanity had never done before. When John F. Kennedy made his famous speech in 1961 declaring we'd put a man on the moon by decade's end, we didn't even have the technology to do it. NASA had to completely upgrade everything.

All that new tech came flooding in, and the 57-year-olds weren't sure how to use it. So they turned to their young employees and interns from Purdue, MIT, and Georgia Tech. "Fellas, can you help us with this?" They could. And they did.

When we landed on the moon, the average age of the operators at the control center was 27 years old. The young man who actually gave the final "go" to land? Jack Garman, 23 years old, one year out of college. The older generation became sim-soups (simulator supervisors), mentoring these twentysomethings. And those kids put a man on the moon. They said later: "We didn't know what we didn't know. And it allowed us to have the guts to do it."

Friends, what if we could do that again?

A.L.E.G. to Stand On

Tim taught me an acronym that's changed how I lead: A.L.E.G. When you don't understand the behavior of a Gen Z employee or student, remember you've got to connect before you correct.

Ask, don't tell. When someone asks questions about your life or decisions, you feel valued. Start there.

Listen. They want to have a voice. They want to feel heard. Give them that gift.

Empathize. You don't have to fully understand their experience to say, "I'm beginning to get it." When you empathize, they feel understood.

Guide. Only after you've done the first three have you earned the right to guide them. You've built a bridge, not wielded a badge.

The Leadership Shift We Must Make

Stop thinking gatekeeper. Start thinking guide.

Stop thinking control. Start thinking connect.

Stop thinking "what." Start thinking "why."

Stop thinking manager. Start thinking mentor.

This isn't just about managing a new generation. It's about recognizing that the future belongs to them, and how we treat them now will determine what kind of leaders they become.

What Happens Next

I read something on social media that made my 23-year-old son literally stop and say "Yep" before walking away:

"Gen Z will drink one medium caramel latte, not eat a single meal until 4 PM, verbally abuse a racist, crack a joke about their mental health, and pick up a tear gas canister with their bare hands, but get nervous when they have to call to make a doctor's appointment."

They understand the macro parts of the world without having mastered the basics. That's our responsibility to teach. Not with judgment. With patience, empathy, and the recognition that they bring cognitive abilities and perspectives we desperately need. Margaret Mead saw this coming 50 years ago. She predicted we'd move into a pre-figurative society where young people would figure things out faster than older generations. With rapid technology and AI, that future is now. The young will lead us if we let them. If we listen. If we create space for their ideas instead of telling them to wait eight years.

Your Turn

This week, I want you to do something uncomfortable.

Think about the Gen Z people in your life. Your employees. Your students. Your kids. Your neighbors.

Now ask yourself: Am I a gatekeeper or a guide?

Make one change. Ask one question. Listen to one idea without immediately explaining why it won't work.

The future begins with Z. But whether they soar or stumble depends entirely on how we lead them today. Because friends, there's only one way they're going to charge into the storms they face: through the leadership and example of you. Let's be the kind of leaders they deserve. Let's be the kind of mentors who help them reach their moon. The control center is waiting. Are you ready to hand them the keys?

Lead forward. The future is watching.