I have journeyed over two decades as a human resources leader, currently CHRO at Arvind Ltd, a USD 2 billion conglomerate, and most recently as CHRO at Ather Energy, a new-age start-up that pioneered electric mobility in India. At Ather, I was often the oldest person in the room; today, at Arvind, I still carry that “older” identity into rooms full of much younger colleagues. The story I want to explore is not just about multi-generational intersectionality in Indian workplaces, but about how my own identity as a CHRO—and as a person has had to evolve from looking for “star performers” to “collective weavers”. This I believe is necessary to truly work with different generations and their aspirations.

When I look around the workplace today, see one question asked in two very different ways. While the older generation asks, “How do I prove myself here?”, the younger generation asks, “Why should this place matter to me?” In between there’s a generation which asks, “Do I have a space here?” In India’s multigenerational workplaces—where Baby Boomers, Gen X, Millennials, and Gen Z now work together—these questions collide every day.

The Baby Boomers, Gen X, and to some extent, Millennials grew up in a world where proving ourselves meant "standing ahead of the group."

We talked about teams, but the subtext of our work life was always individual performance with an underpinning of “survival of the fittest”. “How do I show up?”, “How am I recognized?” 

Evolution of Individuality and Collectivism

The idea of individuality as we know it took root in the 18th and 19th centuries, gathering force through the Industrial Revolution. It arrived as a kind of liberation—a breaking free from rigid social constraints, from inherited roles, from the idea that you were simply a product of the group you were born into. And in many ways, it was necessary. It gave people permission to think, to question, to become.

Individualism became not just a philosophy but a value system. We celebrated it and nurtured it. Over time, individuality did not just describe who you were—it became who you were.

But there was a quiet cost. In liberating ourselves from the constraints of the collective, we lost our ability to truly appreciate the power of the collective. And so, the collective came to feel dangerous. A collective would mean that we would become faceless, one among the crowd, not ahead of ‘a crowd’. Thus, the collective was viewed with suspicion—or honestly, fear. We would lose track of our individual performance, which is consciously and unconsciously tied to our identity. 

This is the older generations’ mindset: structured, individualistic in practice even if collective in speech, and deeply driven by the need to be the "star." But today, we hire generations that arrives with a completely different relationship to identity, authority, and the collective. And this collision is reshaping what work means.

Older generations like mine built identity around the “How.” We took pride in method, process, and delivery. We respected authority that gave (hopefully) clear direction. Many younger employees build identity around the “Why.” They want context, not just tasks. “Why are we doing this?” and, “How does this add value to me and to us?”

This is not defiance. It is a different way of locating the self in the world. They have grown up with open information and fast communication. Authority is closer and more human to them, not distant and untouchable or unquestionable.

Data from recent surveys in India reflects this shift. A 2025 Randstad report notes that only 16% of Gen Z in India want a traditional full-time job, while 43% prefer a job plus a side hustle, seeking flexibility and autonomy. Other studies show they place work-life balance, psychological safety, and meaningful work above title or tenure.

When leaders cannot answer this generation’s “Why,” they switch off. If our goals are narrow, ego‑driven, or purely about looking successful, they sense it. Their identity rejects work without a larger frame.

The mirror of difference

We claim we want diversity; we also yearn for collaboration. Yet most organizations still reward sameness and super-stars. Leaders tend to hire in their own image. It feels safe. It affirms who we already believe we are.

When we keep looking at the same type of people, our “capacity to realize the realities of others” goes further away as individuals, teams and as organisations. We don’t just shape teams in our own image; we shape products in our own image too. The products we create are then “embraced by customers who are very different,” yet we designed them while surrounded by people who look, think, and live like us. So, when we say we want diversity but keep rewarding sameness, we are not just being hypocritical—we are weakening our institutions.

True diversity demands that we become “comfortable with differences”: different thought leadership, different viewpoints, different genders, sexualities, and languages. It demands leaders who can create spaces where these differences are not merely present but truly allowed to shape what we build together. 

The leaders who got us through COVID were not the ones we traditionally celebrated—the data-certain, guarantee-promising heroes—but those who came from the woodworks, were “listening,” “nurturing,” and willing to stay with uncertainty. They did not fit the old mould, but they were exactly what the moment required. They were willing to “figure it out together” than be seen as the one who figured it out and sorted.

The speed trap

The biggest threat to this new identity is our obsession with speed. “I need this now. I need this yesterday.” Urgency becomes a shield. We say we have no time for culture or purpose because the market is moving too fast. Sometimes speed is survival - a regulatory deadline, a first‑mover advantage, a cash‑flow cliff, etc. When that is the case, we need to say it plainly. We have to share the stakes. Then speed becomes part of the shared purpose, not a weapon.

Often, though, our speed is performative. It protects our control. It keeps us from facing hard questions. In those moments, younger colleagues feel used. They ask, “What am I really doing here?”

Surveys on Indian Gen Z show high sensitivity to burnout and “empty busyness.” Many are willing to quit roles that harm their mental health, sometimes within a year. If we keep choosing optics over meaning, we lose them. 

Sustainable speed needs two things: clarity and psychological safety. People move fast when they know why it matters and feel safe enough to ask for help.

The new collective

The future belongs to leaders who can bridge identities, not pick sides. We need to honour the “systems thinking” many older leaders bring—their understanding of institutions, power, and long games. We also need to honour the younger generation’s insistence on purpose, flexibility, and dignity.  In India, we already see early forms of this. Cross-functional squads that own shared outcomes, startups experimenting with flat structures and shared OKRs, Large firms piloting reverse mentoring, self-managed groups, listening circles, and much more. 

In my experience, these spaces must have teeth in influencing - performance management framework, reward and recognition framework, policies and processes in an organization. If not, people will see through the facade. 

In my own journey, the most important spaces have been the reflective ones, where there possibility of a young voice asking, ‘Where are the women leaders?’ and an experienced voice talking about, ‘Here is how we got here.’ and willing to stay in uncomfortable conversations and loud silences, long enough for policies and frameworks to emerge, not just posters.

These are small steps away from the ”star culture”. These forms exemplify that no one person can lift an organisation or weave the culture that holds it together.  No one person can make change durable. It takes a group of people, aware of their differences, working with them rather than around them.

As our workforce becomes more multigenerational, collective will matter the most. It is already shifting from “What is my title?” to “What problems do we solve together?”, and “How do we treat each other while doing it?”

We need to move from the fear of being faceless to the courage of being a true collective. My own identity has had to shift alongside that question—from being the one who proves herself, to being the one who holds space for others to belong and lead. From Me ahead of the group, to Us moving the world.