The Gen Z Stare: It’s Not About You, Karen
Have you ever been on the receiving end of the Gen Z stare?
That flat, unreadable, zombie-like expression that makes you suddenly wonder if you’ve done something wrong…
It can feel rude, unnerving, or downright hostile.
Definition of Gen Z stare
The Gen Z stare is a phrase coined on social platforms to describe a sort of vacant, unreadable look younger people give in response to simple questions — especially in customer service or workplace settings.
The Times described the stare as conveying a “complete lack of f*s**” noting that opinions on it vary widely across the generation.
Millennials see the stare as proof that Zoomers can’t function in polite society.
Gen Z insists it’s simply: “It’s not the lack of social skills. It’s just a survival mechanism in any unbearable situations.”
It’s a form of dissociation – a neutral face holding the weight of late-stage capitalism.
Millennials and older generations interpret the same expression as coldness or a lack of soft skills. They expect small talk, eye contact, and the performance of warmth—values they themselves were forced to cultivate before “service with a smile”.
COVID and the loss of soft skills
Researchers have suggested it may stem from post-pandemic social anxiety — young people lost opportunities to hone soft, conversational skills due to isolation, which now shows up as blank stares. It might also be a form of resistance to perform “forced positivity”.
So when a teenager blanks out in real life, it’s not always rudeness. Sometimes it’s buffering. Sometimes it’s anxiety. Sometimes it’s just the default setting of someone raised half-online.
The pandemic froze Gen Z during the exact years when “soft skills” (communication, small talk, social awareness) are normally developed. Older Gen Z, already teens in 2020, had years of practice. Younger Gen Z, still kids, didn’t. Their entire adolescence happened through screens.
Pandemic years stole their first jobs, internships, and the chance to practice “professional small talk.”
Digital culture trained them to be blunt and efficient, not chatty.
Workplace norms (hierarchies, hustle culture, performative cheerfulness) don’t hold the same weight for a generation raised on authenticity and burnout warnings.
What employers get wrong about Gen Z stare
The problem isn’t that Gen Z can’t communicate. The problem is that managers still cling to a 20th-century idea of what “professionalism” looks like: forced small talk, perpetual smiles, and the kind of performative enthusiasm that makes customer service feel like community theatre.
Gen Z doesn’t buy it. They’re not interested in being “on” all the time just to reassure middle management that they’re engaged.
What looks like indifference to a Boomer boss is often just Gen Z refusing to play a part they never auditioned for.
They grew up online, where blunt, concise, emoji-free communication is the default. They started jobs during a pandemic, on Zoom, without years of practice in face-to-face soft skills. And they’re entering a workplace already restructured by AI, gig work, and economic precarity.
The blank face is not a moral failing. It’s context.
Instead of asking, “Is this person disengaged?” employers should be asking:
✔️ Am I relying on outdated markers of attentiveness?
✔️ Have I created an environment where people feel comfortable expressing themselves authentically?
✔️ Am I confusing “different” with “bad”?
Here’s the danger: when managers interpret the stare as a personal affront, they create a feedback loop of resentment. “They’re unmotivated.” “They’re impossible to manage.” “They stress me out.”
But strip away the generational drama, and you’ll find something simple: people communicate differently.
Instead of treating the Gen Z stare as a crisis, treat it as data:
✔️ Authenticity over performance. They value honest exchanges. Don’t force pleasantries that feel fake.
✔️ Mentorship over micromanagement. They want guidance, not surveillance.
✔️ Collaboration over hierarchy. A title won’t impress them; involvement will.
✔️ Agility over rigidity. They’re impatient—but in the sense that they’d rather prototype and iterate than sit through endless approvals.
The psychology behind the Gen Z stare
While it has not yet been a major topic of peer-reviewed psychological research, related studies suggest it may reflect generational themes around identity, visibility, emotion regulation, and digital self-presentation.
Emotional self-protection
Research suggests that neutral facial expressions can serve as a form of emotional regulation (Verma et al, 2023). A flat neutral expression may serve as a shield against judgment or overexposure. A common Gen Z anxiety is appearing “cringe” or too eager. Emotional suppression in digital spaces may be used to signal that they are in control and not performing.
Rebellion against performative positivity
There’s a clear generational shift happening — we’ve gone from aspirational to relatable. Gen Z has little patience for the overly polished, “living-my-best-life” energy that once ruled social media. The blank stare feels like a quiet protest against the forced smiles of Millennial and Gen X culture — a refusal to perform happiness on demand. It’s a kind of anti-pose that embraces irony, realism, and even boredom as aesthetic choices.
The anti-beauty/glamour era
Forget the sculpted “Instagram face.” The Gen Z stare doesn’t try to please or seduce — it resists. There’s a rawness to it, an intentional shrug at traditional beauty standards and hyper-femininity. It’s messy, ambiguous, sometimes awkward — and that’s the point. It’s what beauty theorists would call an aesthetic of resistance — indifference as the new allure.
To other Gen Zers, the stare may signal a cool detachment, showing that they understand the irony, especially when selfies are paired with absurd captions or filters.
It’s not a new stare, it’s just rebranded
Every generation has had its version of the blank look.
Every generation accuses the one after it of bad manners. The Victorians thought Edwardians were lazy. Boomers thought Gen X were slackers. Gen X thought Millennials were entitled. Now it’s Gen Z’s turn: apparently, they’re “antisocial,” “snowflakey,” and giving off the world’s worst customer service vibes. The only difference between Millennials and Gen Z is that Gen Z turned theirs into a meme.
So let’s stop pretending this is some brand-new generational defect.
The Gen Z stare has nothing to do with you
When people complain about being on the receiving end of “that rude Zoomer look,” they’re assuming it’s personal. That every blank face in a Starbucks is secretly aimed at them.
Gen Z (born between 1997 and 2013, so aged roughly 13 to 28) inherited a world of student debt, unaffordable housing, and a climate countdown clock that ticks louder with every summer heatwave.
Their blank stare is not personal. It’s existential.
Sometimes a blank face just means:
✔️ They’re calculating how many hours at minimum wage equals rent this month.
✔️ They’re disassociating for survival.
✔️ They’re thinking about a TikTok dance.
✔️ They’re trying not to cry.
Haven’t we all done a thousand-yard stare in the middle of a conversation? Usually when pensions, credit scores, weird tooth pain, or existential dread pop into our heads uninvited.
The only difference between Millennials and Gen Z is that Gen Z turned theirs into a meme.
Gen Z stare – the most honest face in the room
To me, the Gen Z stare is less about etiquette and more about honesty.
It’s a refusal to mask exhaustion behind a fake smile. It’s a deadpan acknowledgment that the world is a mess, customer service is hell, and nobody gets paid enough to act like they’re delighted to be there.
If that makes older generations uncomfortable, maybe it should.
And if we’re honest, what we’re really seeing reflected in that stare is our own complicity. The mess older generations handed to them: unaffordable housing, and jobs that don’t pay enough to live on.
So next time you catch a Zoomer fixing you with that deadpan look, don’t take it personally. They’re not staring at you.
They’re staring at everything.
