Every workplace is built on our origin story – you just don’t call it that. It shows up in the way someone reacts to feedback, their tolerance for change, their relationship with technology, and what they quietly expect work to give back.
Think about Batman: shaped by loss, driven by justice. Or Spiderman: an ordinary kid, one moment of disruption, suddenly carrying responsibility he didn’t ask for. We don’t wear capes to work, but we do carry the imprint of the world we grew up in. And when you’re sitting in a meeting wondering why one employee wants structure, another wants flexibility, and another wants purpose yesterday, it can feel exhausting trying to reconcile it all.
The tension isn’t poor attitude or a lack of commitment – it’s context. According to McCrindle’s research, the age at which we’re exposed to major events and technologies deeply embeds itself in how we think, work, and lead. Once you see work this way, the friction starts to make sense.
The real question is what happens when you stop managing behaviours and start understanding origin stories.
We don’t react to work as it is. We react to work as we learned it
We rarely stop to ask whether the story we’re carrying about work is still helping us.
Most of us absorbed our beliefs early. What “hard work” looks like. How visible effort should be. Whether loyalty is rewarded. Whether technology is a threat or a tool. Whether work is something you endure, something you optimise, or something you want to align with your life.
Those beliefs didn’t appear out of nowhere. They were shaped by the conditions we entered work in. The tools available at the time. The leaders we observed. The social and economic events playing out in the background. As McCrindle points out, the age at which we’re exposed to major technological shifts and formative events determines how deeply they embed into our thinking. That context matters.
But here’s the harder question.
Just because a story made sense once, does it still serve you now?
Just because a story made sense once doesn’t mean it still serves you
For some leaders, the story is effort equals commitment. Being seen matters. Long hours signal value. For others, it’s flexibility equals trust. Output matters more than presence. For others still, work must mean something or it isn’t worth the energy. None of these positions are wrong in isolation. The problem arises when we treat them as fixed truths rather than inherited perspectives.
This is where friction creeps in.
You might feel frustrated that someone younger questions systems you fought hard to navigate. Or uneasy when someone more experienced resists a new way of working that feels obvious to you. You might label it entitlement, rigidity, or a poor work ethic. But more often than not, you’re looking at two different origin stories colliding.
Each person is responding rationally to the world that shaped them.
The real risk isn’t generational difference. It’s unexamined loyalty to our own narrative.
Because when we don’t pause to interrogate our story, we start defending it. We build policies, performance expectations, and leadership habits around it. We reward people who mirror it. And we quietly penalise those who don’t.
That’s when work stops being a place of contribution and starts becoming a place of quiet resistance.
So it’s worth asking, honestly, how your story shows up at work.
Does it help you adapt, or does it keep you anchored to how things used to be?
Does it create clarity for others, or does it rely on assumptions they were never taught?
Does it support the life you want now, or the one you were told to want back then?
And then there’s the bigger question.
As we interact with different generations at work, is it time to let some of our stories go and make new ones?
Not by erasing experience or dismissing what came before. But by loosening our grip on the parts that no longer fit the environment we’re operating in. By recognising that what once kept us safe, relevant, or successful might now be limiting connection, trust, or progress.
Most generational tension isn’t resistance. It’s context colliding
This is where generational intelligence moves from concept to practice.
It’s not about memorising traits or managing people by birth year. It’s about recognising that everyone is bringing context to the table, including you. It’s about curiosity instead of judgement. Listening before labelling. And being willing to update your own thinking as readily as you expect others to update theirs.
The most effective leaders I work with aren’t the ones who abandon their story. They’re the ones who’ve examined it, kept what still works, and consciously rewritten the rest.
Because leadership today isn’t about whose version of work wins.
It’s about creating space for new stories to be built – ones that reflect the reality of the world we’re working in now, not the one we entered years ago.