Raising a generation without patience?
By: NARAYANAN KIZHUMUNDAYUR
In the vast unfolding saga of human civilization, every generation inherits a unique set of challenges, values, and experiences from its predecessors. The rhythm of life, the pace of change, and the very expectations from existence have undergone tremendous transformation, especially in the last few decades.
If the twentieth century was marked by the slow transition from tradition to technology, the twenty-first century has witnessed a whirlwind acceleration into the digital age.
In this new era of hyper-connectivity and instantaneous access, a deep and subtle question arises—a question that doesn’t just touch the edges of our educational or parenting methods but penetrates into the very heart of human development: Are we raising a generation without patience?
This is not merely a rhetorical concern; it is a psychological, cultural, and moral inquiry. Patience is not just the ability to wait—it is the art of enduring with grace, the strength to delay gratification, the wisdom to believe that time itself has a role to play in the unfolding of all things.
It is an internal compass that helps a child endure difficulties, persevere in long tasks, and understand that not all pleasures are immediate, nor should they be. Yet, all around us, the signs are evident that this essential human virtue is being corroded—not deliberately, but systemically, as a side-effect of the very environment we are shaping for our children.
In earlier times, life naturally offered opportunities to develop patience. A letter took days or weeks to arrive. A favorite song had to be recorded off the radio or purchased after saving up. Conversations required face-to-face presence or waiting by the landline telephone.
Every small pleasure came with a wait, and in that waiting, children learned the value of effort and anticipation. Today, however, the story is drastically different. Digital platforms have made almost everything accessible now. A child can listen to any song, play any game, watch any show, or even ask a question to an AI and receive a near-instant answer.
This shift towards instant gratification is not a coincidence—it is a commercial and psychological design. Algorithms on social media, advertisements, mobile games, and even educational platforms are created to engage the brain’s reward centers.
Likes, comments, virtual rewards, and digital applause are showered within seconds, forming a loop where the mind begins to expect pleasure without delay. In this loop, the very concept of waiting becomes an irritant rather than a natural pause. A child who is used to ten-second rewards may find it intolerable to wait five minutes for food or ten minutes for an answer from a teacher. Delayed gratification, once a developmental milestone, is now perceived almost as a flaw.
Layered upon the culture of instant gratification is the increasingly alarming trend of digital addiction. Children, adolescents, and even toddlers are growing up with screens as their primary companions. While technology has its undeniable benefits in education, communication, and information, its overuse has a dark side that affects the brain’s cognitive wiring and emotional resilience.
Digital addiction doesn’t simply mean spending more time on gadgets—it means the development of psychological dependence on digital stimuli. Many children today find it difficult to remain idle without reaching for a device. The ability to sit quietly, to reflect, to engage in free play, or to even feel bored is being lost.
Boredom, once seen as the seedbed of creativity, is now a void that must be filled instantly, lest the mind becomes restless or anxious. But it is precisely through boredom that children once learned patience. They learned to imagine, to wait, to observe. Today, in the absence of such moments, they grow up overstimulated but underprepared for the slower, subtler demands of real life.
Studies have shown that digital addiction contributes to shortened attention spans, poor emotional regulation, and increased impulsivity. When children are used to changing videos with a single swipe, how can we expect them to endure a slow-paced classroom lecture? When video games offer continuous rewards, how can they see the value in months of hard work for a school project? These habits are not forming in a vacuum—they are forming in a society that increasingly values speed over depth, efficiency over patience.
Adding to this digital whirlpool is the broader fast-paced lifestyle that defines modern urban life. Parents today are often part of the same race—rushing to meet deadlines, balancing professional pressures with personal responsibilities, trying to make time for parenting in a schedule that scarcely allows for rest.
As a result, parenting, too, has become hurried. Instead of storytelling, there is a video. Instead of a quiet walk, there is a rushed trip to the mall. Instead of a patient conversation, there is a text message.
Moreover, convenience has become the supreme value. Food is ordered, not cooked. Entertainment is streamed, not waited for. Interaction is virtual, not physical. In such an environment, it becomes difficult to teach children the virtues of waiting, working slowly, or persisting without immediate rewards. They are rarely exposed to activities that require gradual skill-building, such as gardening, painting, crafting, or playing a musical instrument—all of which are time-rich and reward-poor in the short run but immensely fulfilling in the long term.
What’s more, modern education systems, though aware of the challenge, often unintentionally contribute to it. Pressure to perform, constant evaluations, competition, and information overload mean that children are learning to chase results rather than appreciate journeys. Grades, certificates, and applause become the new rewards, and anything that doesn’t yield quick recognition is abandoned.
The erosion of patience does not simply create fidgety or restless children—it alters the emotional landscape of the next generation. Children who cannot wait become teenagers who cannot endure. Emotional outbursts, intolerance of frustration, anxiety when results are delayed—these are not character flaws, but symptoms of an upbringing that never taught the art of perseverance. Emotional maturity requires the ability to withstand disappointment, to control impulses, to see beyond the present moment—all of which are cultivated in the soil of patience.
Socially, too, a lack of patience has ripple effects. True relationships require time—time to listen, to understand, to forgive, to adjust. But when children grow up expecting everything to conform to their instant desires, they may find real human relationships disappointing or difficult. The rise in social media-based validation further compounds this issue, creating superficial connections over meaningful ones. And when conflicts arise, they often lack the patience to resolve them constructively, opting instead for withdrawal or hostility.
If this seems like a gloomy picture, let it be remembered that human nature is not fixed—it is molded by environment, by experience, and above all, by example. Patience is not a genetic trait but a learned virtue, and it is possible to reclaim it for the next generation. The first step lies in recognizing the issue—not as a generational complaint, but as a psychological concern that needs conscious correction.
Parents, educators, and society at large must make deliberate efforts to slow down. Set digital boundaries. Encourage activities that require time—like reading long stories, solving puzzles, growing plants, learning classical arts, or volunteering. Children must be taught, not told, that some things are worth waiting for, and that immediate pleasure is not the same as lasting joy.
Adults themselves must model patience—in how they speak, in how they drive, in how they deal with others, and in how they handle children’s questions. Schools must reward effort and persistence, not just speed and correctness. Workplaces must stop glorifying multitasking and start valuing focused attention. Media must begin to tell stories that don’t just dazzle, but also deepen. In short, we must collectively build a culture that allows slowness to coexist with success.
The question “Are we raising a generation without patience?” is not a critique of children—it is a reflection of the environment we have created around them. The forces of technology, convenience, and speed are powerful, but not invincible. If we can recognize the value of patience not just as an old-world virtue but as a necessary tool for surviving and thriving in the complexities of modern life, we can begin to restore it—one moment of waiting, one story of perseverance, one delayed reward at a time. For in teaching a child to wait, we are not depriving them—we are preparing them for a life where true fulfilment does not come instantly, but grows slowly, like a tree planted with love and watered with time.
(The author is an accountant based in Kerala. He writes for several publications including ‘Kashmir Vision’)
