Explaining the conflict by generations
Generational vocabulary — «Gen Z», «the old guard» — supplies an explanation that forbids action. Neither side can change age; both can change how they work.
A so-called generational conflict almost always covers a concrete disagreement about methods, decision speed or recognition. Treating it as an age problem makes it unsolvable. The lever is to bring each side back to precise operational questions, then create a real working dependency between them.
Adrien VasseurUpdated
Antoine, twenty-two, an intern, says in a meeting: «honestly, you’re doing this the way people did fifteen years ago.» The seniors do not answer; they exchange a look. Over the following days he stops being asked to things, his suggestions go unanswered, and he concludes the team is closed. The seniors, for their part, describe someone lecturing them before having shipped anything. Both are partly right, and each finds in the other’s behaviour confirmation of their own diagnosis.
The generational register hands everyone a ready-made explanation that spares them from examining the substance: «they’re stuck», «he has no perspective». Those labels make the disagreement non-negotiable, since nobody can negotiate their age. The difficulty is also asymmetric: the junior is isolated and feels illegitimate, the seniors are the majority and feel their expertise is under attack. A manager who over-protects the first isolates him further; a manager who corrects him publicly simply teaches him to stay quiet.
Generational vocabulary — «Gen Z», «the old guard» — supplies an explanation that forbids action. Neither side can change age; both can change how they work.
Pulling the intern up in front of the team restores apparent order at a real cost: you lose the outside perspective you hired for, and the message sent is that suggestions get punished.
«Antoine will show us the new tools» puts an intern in the position of correcting seniors. You have turned a method disagreement into a status question, and guaranteed rejection of both the tool and the person.
A team lunch does not settle a disagreement about how decisions get validated. The conflict returns on Monday, now with the added belief that the subject has already been dealt with.
Move from register to specifics: «When you say “the way people did fifteen years ago”, what exactly do you mean — the code review, the approval delay, the channel?» A criticism translated into a precise object becomes discussable; a criticism of style never does.
Ask them, with the junior in the room: «Why do we validate in two steps here?» There is usually a good reason, born of an incident nobody ever told. Once the reason is on the table, the junior stops reading it as inertia — and the seniors sometimes re-examine the rule themselves.
Prejudice does not yield to statements; it yields to a shared deliverable where each needs the other to succeed. Assign a bounded piece of work with a shared objective and two genuinely complementary skills. That is the only mechanism that produces mutual credit.
A symmetrical rule, stated to the team: «Criticism of our methods is welcome, with a proposal and the problem it solves. That goes for everyone, whatever their seniority.» The symmetry is what stops the rule being read as a disguised sanction.