I watched a video of a college professor who was frustrated with a student. He was wearing headphones and doing homework for a different class during her lecture. When she called him out, he said, “I’m paying you. You do your job.”
She called it entitlement. I understand why. The comment is blunt, and it lands like disrespect. But if we stop there, we miss what’s actually happening, and we make it harder to help the student.
I’m not going to pretend entitlement doesn’t exist. I’ve seen it. Some young people do expect the world to bend around them, and they’ve rarely been asked to flex. But if entitlement is the only explanation we reach for, we lose the ability to tell one problem from another. And those problems need different responses.
Something real is shifting. Parents, teachers, professors, and employers are noticing it. Here is what the data show. According to NCES data cited in a 2024 analysis, only about 60 percent of undergraduates complete their degrees within six years. A 2024 survey of companies found that 94 percent had hired recent college graduates, but only 25 percent said all of those hires worked out well. Another analysis reported in Psychology Today, found that only a small share of Gen Z holds the values employers most want in new hires, such as achievement, learning, and a strong drive to work. These numbers don’t prove why students struggle. They do show that the gap is widespread and measurable.
So what’s underneath it? I find it helpful to look through four lenses. They can overlap, and a single student may be dealing with more than one. But each one suggests a different response.
Lens 1: The hidden curriculum
Schools teach the content: algebra, reading comprehension, chemistry. Most of them don’t explicitly teach the unwritten rules that sit underneath it. Eye contact during a conversation. Tone when you disagree. Knowing when a lecture is still “on” even if the professor isn’t talking. Understanding that “any questions?” is rhetorical in some rooms and a real invitation in others. Recognizing sarcasm, and knowing when it’s safe to use it.
When a student misses these “rules”, the adults around them often read the miss as a character flaw. But a student who was never shown the rule can’t follow it, no matter how much they care.
What this looks like: A teenager rolls their eyes during a family conversation. The parent hears disrespect. The teen has no idea that an eye roll sends a message. Neither person is wrong about what they felt. They just don’t share the rulebook.
Lens 2: Executive function
Here the student knows the rule. They may even want to follow it. But executive function - the set of mental skills that help us plan, start, sustain attention, hold information in mind, and stop ourselves from acting on impulse - is still developing. Executive function development varies widely from person to person, and classroom expectations can easily exceed what a student can manage without support.
From the outside, this can look like a student who doesn’t try. From the inside, the student may be trying hard and still getting lost. They start the assignment, lose track of the steps, and feel like they’ve failed before the deadline arrives.
What this looks like: A student genuinely wants to turn in assignments on time. They understand the expectation. But planning, organizing, and starting the task don’t come together without support, so the work keeps slipping, and the adults conclude the student doesn’t care.
Lens 3: Generational values
This is the lens people struggle with most, and it’s where the word entitlement often comes up. Some students have not rejected the rules because they can’t follow them. They have questioned the premise.
Why show up to a lecture if the slides are online? Why be loyal to an employer if loyalty doesn’t lead to better pay? Why follow a rule nobody explained? Many young people grew up with information everywhere, flexible schedules, and the ability to switch tools or jobs quickly. Their sense of what a fair exchange looks like may be different from the one their teachers or managers learned.
I don’t think this is a simple value to dismiss, and it isn’t an excuse for poor behavior either. It’s a different understanding of the social contract. Our job is to make the older contract visible and explain why people still rely on it, even if the student decides to disagree.
What this looks like: A student asks, “Why do I have to come to class if the professor just reads the slides?” They aren’t being difficult. They’re running on a different model of what education is for.
Lens 4: Developmental readiness
The brain doesn’t finish building its management systems on a timeline that matches school or work. The prefrontal cortex - which supports planning, impulse control, and anticipating consequences - continues to mature into the mid-twenties. A seventeen-year-old or a twenty-year-old may have strong skills in one area and still be developing in another.
This is why a student can handle a math problem or a social disagreement on their own, but fall apart when both show up in the same week alongside a job or a heavy course load. The issue isn’t that they lack ability. It’s that the load exceeds what the brain is currently equipped to hold.
What this looks like: A high schooler can finish their homework and handle a friend conflict. Ask them to do both while also managing a part-time job and a family schedule, and they start missing deadlines, snapping at people, and shutting down. That’s a capacity problem, and it responds to support, not to lectures about responsibility.
So which one is it?
This is the question I keep coming back to. If you can see which lens fits, you can choose a response that matches. A student who doesn’t know the rule needs the rule explained. A student who knows the rule but can’t execute it needs scaffolding and skill-building. A student who has rejected the premise needs to understand the expectation and why others still care about it, and then they can make a real choice. A student who is developmentally stretched needs a lighter load and time.
Often, more than one lens applies at once. That’s why labeling a young person as entitled too quickly can shut down the very conversation that would help.
Where coaching fits
Most families come to coaching thinking they need help with organization, time management, or getting homework done. And those things matter. But much of the work involves something that rarely gets named: teaching the hidden curriculum directly.
In a coaching session, that can look like practicing how to read a room, naming the cue a student keeps missing, working on nonverbal communication, talking through sarcasm and when it lands badly, and helping a student see what a teacher or employer actually expects, even when nobody says it out loud. It can also mean helping a student think through the expectation they’re pushing against, so they can decide what they want to do about it.
That’s not about making students conform. It’s about giving them the full picture so the choices they make are informed, and so they’re not punished for rules nobody ever taught them.
The questions to ask instead of the label
If you’re a parent, teacher, or coach trying to figure out what’s happening with a young person, these questions can help you sort it out:
Does this student know the rule exists? If not, can I show it to them?
Can they follow the rule when they know it, or does it fall apart under load?
Do they understand the expectation and reject it, and if so, what do they believe about it?
Is their brain carrying more than it can manage right now?
Entitlement is real, and it deserves a direct response. But when we reach for the label first, we skip the diagnosis. And without the diagnosis, we’re guessing.
What I’d love to hear from you
This is what I’ve been thinking about lately, but I’m curious about your perspective. What are you seeing with your own kid, your students, or your team? Where do you see the hidden curriculum showing up most, and what has helped? Tell me in the comments or reply to the newsletter. I read every response.
Executive function coaching at CPC
At Connected Pathways Coaching, we start with the foundation. We look at the whole picture of how your child’s unique brain works, then build the skills underneath through consistent practice and support. I would love to talk with you about where your child is right now and how we can help them going forward.
