Not Your CEO's Leadership: Gen Z's Turn Now

She's 25 and already leading a cross-functional project team. Not because she lobbied for it, but because she stepped up. He's 25, managing a digital campaign that reaches three million people, yet he doesn’t think of himself as a leader.

And in a corner of the internet where memes meet meaning, a 25-year-old in her third semester is organising fundraisers, moderating discussions on identity and climate, and shaping worldviews with a few hundred thousand followers. Ask them if they want to be future CXOs, and they might laugh — not with derision, but because it’s simply not their vocabulary.

There is a quiet, unspoken shift in how leadership is seen, sought, and shaped. And at the heart of it is a generation that has grown up in full view of fractured systems, half-truths, and headline fatigue. Gen Z is stepping into the world not just as employees or consumers.

They are, in many ways, the first generation raised by both the algorithm and the activist. Their worldview has been built on climate anxiety, pandemic scars, hyperconnectivity, and a mounting distrust of legacy institutions. But they aren’t paralysed by this worldview but fuelled by it.

Leadership, to them, is not a reward. It’s not a corner office. And it’s definitely not a title. It is often invisible, distributed, and situational. It shows up in the quiet courage to call out microaggressions. It shows up in refusing to work weekends in a culture that glorifies burnout. It shows up in choosing values over virality. It shows up in their unwillingness to be led by anything or anyone that lacks authenticity.

This is not a rejection of leadership. It’s a rejection of leadership as it has long been packaged, so far.

What we’re witnessing isn’t a “leadership vacuum” as some commentators worry — it’s a leadership recalibration. Gen Z are refusing to lead your way. And that should prompt both reflection and responsibility from those currently in power.

Let’s pause and ask — why would a generation that values speed, visibility, and voice wait 30 years to become “eligible” for top roles? Especially when they already have platforms that offer them more reach, more agency, and arguably, more impact? If influence can be built in 280 characters, if change can be crowdsourced from dorm rooms, why would they aspire to legacy ladders that seem painfully slow, politically murky, and emotionally unrewarding?

Many senior leaders reading this might feel conflicted. After all, leadership wasn’t always this complicated. You rose through the ranks, learnt hard lessons, faced down downturns, built trust through consistency. You didn’t expect applause at every milestone. But here’s the truth — this generation isn’t dismissing that journey. They are questioning the silence that often came with it. They are not calling you obsolete. They are inviting you to be more visible, more human, and yes, more vulnerable.

Many senior leaders look at this impatience and mistake it for entitlement. But this is not a cohort demanding fast-tracks without merit. It is a cohort that refuses to perform respectability just to be seen. They don’t believe in paying their dues silently. They believe in contributing meaningfully and being acknowledged in real-time. Their language isn’t laced with jargon or deference. It’s candid, sometimes uncomfortable, often raw. And if we’re being honest, that’s what real leadership ought to be — a presence.

But this confidence can sometimes curdle into cynicism, especially when met with institutional inertia. The challenge for Gen Z is not just to critique structures, but to learn how to navigate, reshape, and where necessary, reimagine them. Leadership doesn’t only mean breaking moulds — it also means building something sturdier in its place. That takes time, allies, and the patience to pick your battles.

Herein lies the leadership gap that organisations are quietly struggling with. Their future leaders are not in waiting. They are walking out.

They are opting out.

Not because they lack aspiration, but because they cannot find alignment.

They’re not against ambition. They’re just redefining what ambition looks like.

It may not be a 10-year roadmap or a quarterly EBITDA. It might be the freedom to speak up, the courage to disagree, the right to take a mental health break, or the chance to lead without having to “act older".

What makes this especially complicated is that Gen Z isn’t just seeking leaders.

They are watching who gets protected.

Who gets promoted.

And most importantly, who gets heard. When they don’t see women, queer individuals, persons with disability, or anyone outside the mainstream narrative in the rooms where decisions are made, they see it as erasure. And they do not forget easily.

They are not cynical, but they are cautious.

They want mentors, not managers.

Coaches, not controllers.

They want to be led by those who have faced failure, not just flaunted success. They are suspicious of perfection, wary of charisma, and immune to performative purpose.

For them, leadership must be earned anew, in every action. Every value claimed must be demonstrated. And every title must come with transparency.

So what does this mean for organisations, institutions, and yes, families too?

It means we must stop waiting for “leadership readiness” to emerge in neat, linear formats. Gen Z doesn’t arrive with polished PowerPoints. They arrive with questions, with sharp eyes, with contradictory truths. The best thing we can do is not to mould them into miniature versions of ourselves. It is to create space for them to shape a leadership that makes sense for their times — not ours.

One of the most underutilised ways to bridge this generational distance is reverse mentorship. In India Inc., this doesn’t need to be a formal deck-driven programme. It could be a CXO committing one hour a week, or one day a month to shadow a Gen Z employee — to observe how they solve, collaborate, and communicate. It could be rotating ‘culture capsules’, where younger colleagues present trends, tools, or behaviours from their digital-first worlds to leadership teams.

The key lies in flipping the assumption that wisdom only flows one way. A 23-year-old might not have grey hair, but they may know what your next customer cohort is already thinking. They might not understand the legacy systems yet, but they could tell you how your brand sounds on social media. When reverse mentorship is done with mutual respect, it can be transformative.

So the real question is not whether Gen Z is ready to lead. It’s whether we are all — young, old, and in between — ready to lead together, without needing to look the same while doing it. Because the future of leadership isn’t a handover. It’s a handshake.