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Is Gen Z the rejection generation?

From job applications to dating apps, rejection has become a defining experience of modern young adulthood – but is it shaping resilience, or just burning us out? 

Whether it’s delivered by a cold recruiter email, a reluctant date in a dimly lit bar, or the ‘seen’ label beneath an unanswered text message, rejection has always been one of the tougher inevitabilities of the human experience.

But for many members of Gen Z, the concept of ‘no’ feels more like a relentless pummelling than an occasional bruise. At least, that’s what was ascertained from David Brooks’ viral opinion piece for The New York Times. 

Brooks used the rise in university applications as the crux of his wide-ranging piece, citing sobering statistics like the 54,000 students who applied to be part of the Harvard class of 2028 (of which only 1,950 were accepted).

‘Now you meet students who feel they have to apply to 20 or 30 colleges in the hopes that there will be one or two that won’t reject them,’ Brooks writes. ‘In the past two decades, the number of students applying to the 67 most selective colleges has tripled, to nearly two million a year, while that number of places at those schools hasn’t come close to keeping up.’

And it’s not just exclusive higher education applications that Gen Z are facing. Today’s twenty-somethings are also navigating competitive student clubs, unpaid internships, and a job market where 400 applications might yield not even a single interview.

This sense of rejection also veers off of the career path and into everyday life. As Juno Kelly recently discussed for Dazed, ‘apps like Tinder and Hinge have expanded our dating pools and simultaneously opened us up to rejection from people we will never even meet.’

The instant gratification of social media has also turned out to be far from gratifying, in the sense that it opens us up to a limitless pool of people with whom we feel the need to stay in touch and keep up with. This makes for a hamster wheel of social admin that inevitably leads to feelings and fear of rejection.

‘Perceived rejection sends our minds into chaos. Thanks to our survival instincts, we’re biologically averse to it, while studies have found that it activates the same regions in the brain as physical pain,’ writes Kelly.

On Reddit, one user captured this pain succinctly: ‘I internalized a lot of apathy from this pattern of rejection. Why waste my time applying for a job or swiping through Tinder if the chance for rejection is 99%?’ It’s a sentiment that reflects the grinding psychological toll of the modern rejection economy.

But it’s also important to note that while Gen Z might favour themselves as rejection connoisseurs, they’re not the only ones feeling its sting. As Sarabeth Bickerton argues, ‘we are all [gen X, millennials, etc] part of the Rejection Generation now.’

AI is icing middle-aged workers out of long-held jobs, financial strain is pushing more and more of us into unemployment and unstable freelance work, and the impacts of social media reach us all.

Though I’d still argue that Gen Z’s experience is unique if not for their coming of age during such a period of unease. I’m sure everyone felt society was on the brink of collapse when they were in their twenties – it’s a time of deep personal unrest and a sense of misdirection – but all roads point to utter chaos when it comes to our current socio-economic landscape.

Unlike their predecessors, Gen Z grew up in a digital economy that multiples rejection while simultaneously displaying it in real time. Many young people also lived through the most freeing and life-building periods of life (like university and moving away from home for the first time) in the midst of a global pandemic.

So what happens to a generation marinated in rejection? On one hand, psychologists might argue that constant exposure could breed resilience, toughening people against the inevitable knocks of adult life. After all, if rejection is omnipresent, perhaps its sting dulls with time.

On the other, the constant low-level hum of ‘not good enough’ can feed burnout, apathy, and even depression.

Humour is one coping mechanism – one ironically fuelled by the same social media spaces that make rejection feel so pertinent. Many young people turn their pain into shareable punchlines and memes. If resilience can be found in irony, then perhaps rejection is also creating new forms of solidarity. In group chats and subreddits, rejection stories become both communal therapy and entertainment.

Perhaps this is the most sobering truth – rejection is no longer episodic. It’s built into how we apply for jobs, flirt, and socialise. And while no generation has ever been immune to it, the sheer volume and visibility facing Gen Z is unprecedented. The challenge is not eliminating rejection (an impossible task), but rethinking how we design systems that don’t amplify its sting.

In the meantime, Juno Kelly cites advice from psychological experts like Tila Pronk to soften the blow.

‘We are group animals, so at the moment that we are rejected, there’s this panic button being pushed in our brain. We are getting a very clear signal that we are not included, and that is threatening our need to belong’ says Pronk.

For this reason, it’s important to remain open and vulnerable no matter how hostile our landscape might feel. By doing so, and ensuring we treat others with respect, will always help in so much as it gives us peace of mind that we aren’t a part of the problem.

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