Kindness isn’t extinct—Gen Z simply measures it with impact

It has been reported that in 2025, people are kinder than ever. Charity drives trend, donations spike, and #BeKind floods Instagram featuring 14.6 million posts. On the big screen, kindness in India is aspirational—Anand Saigal in Anand (1971), Munna Bhai in Munna Bhai M.B.B.S. (2003), Ram Shankar Nikumbh in Taare Zameen Par(2007), and Rizwan Khan in My Name Is Khan (2010). But try telling that to the waiter waved away without a glance, or the watchman who might as well be invisible.

India ranks 93rd out of 147 countries for overall benevolence according to the World Happiness Report 2025, despite being 10th in volunteering, 118th in helping strangers, and 115th in having trust in strangers. Organised acts of kindness thrive; small, everyday gestures barely exist. 

Why is kindness disappearing in daily life?

Kindness is simple in theory but harder to practise when attention and energy are stretched thin. The importance of kindness—listening without interrupting or pausing before reacting—has never been greater. “Kindness is a pro-social behaviour that stems from perspective-taking, emotional control, and empathy,” says Yesha Mehta, a counselling psychologist at The Mood Space “It’s the instant we choose compassion over judgement, listen without interrupting, or stop before responding harshly.” 

Being kind involves presence and there is little of it to spare. Work culture demands more hours for less return. Indian employees average 46.7 hours per week at $8 per hour in productivity, compared to the UK’s $56.9 or Germany’s $73.05. Add rising inflation and a culture that glorifies hustle culture and simply getting through the day, leaves little room for gestures of patience or empathy. Downtime isn’t free of noise either. India has 241 million active users on social media, constantly exposed to curated feeds and rolling crises, in one endless scroll.  

“EVERYONE IS ENCOURAGED TO PRIORITISE THEIR ARC, AND KINDNESS STARTS TO FEEL LIKE BACKGROUND NOISE” — Dr Chandni Tugnait

“It’s a symptom of the velocity at which we are moving coupled with tools of mass distraction (like social apps, 9-to-5s, and rating-based news) we are constantly being force fed,” says Jovanny Ferreyra, also known as @theartidote on Instagram, a mental health advocate and founder of the world's largest online art-for-mental-health platform, The Artidote. “Even children today have no unstructured time—every free hour is packed with classes or lost to distractions. There’s no space to simply live kindness, to absorb it naturally the way we once did,” says Mumbai-based Shraddha Dalal. “Kindness requires presence, attentive listening or a kind gesture—to others or oneself—that cannot be achieved when we are rushing,” adds Ferreyra. 

Psychologist Sanam Devidasani agrees that kindness hasn’t completely disappeared; it has been buried under a lot of overwhelm. “We’re more connected digitally than ever before, and yet more emotionally isolated. I see it in therapy rooms all the time—people are exhausted, overstimulated, and constantly comparing themselves to highly curated online versions of others. That drains our emotional bandwidth.” Kindness requires attunement—being able to notice and respond to someone else’s emotional state. “If we’re running on empty, it becomes harder to do that. It’s not that people don’t care. It’s that many are struggling to even hold space for themselves, let alone others.” 

Dr Chandni Tuganit, a psychotherapist and founder of The Gateway of Healing, points out the rise of the ‘main character energy’ syndrome too: “Everyone is encouraged to prioritise their arc, and kindness starts to feel like background noise.” 

“I would not want to exist in a world where there is no kindness,” says Ananya Panday, actor and founder of So+, a digital social responsibility initiative. “If we remove kindness from the equation, we’d all be operating from a place of fear or survival. Kindness allows space for growth, safety, and joy.” 

Panday launched So+ in 2019 to address the gap between online culture and empathy. The digital social initiative links kindness and mental health and encourages people to speak up, offers tools to handle online hostility, and works with creators and policymakers to tackle cyberbullying. 

This mirrors a larger shift. Young Indians, particularly Gen Z, are reshaping how kindness is practised, amplifying it through technology, digital giving, and organised action.

How Gen Z is redefining kindness 

Psychologist Sara Konrath’s updated research at Indiana University reveals Gen Z scores higher in perspective-taking and empathic concern than late millennials, bringing empathy back to levels last seen in the 1970s. Growing up as digital natives, they have been constantly exposed to global crises and first-hand accounts of conflict, climate disasters, and genocide on social media. Seeing these struggles unfold in real time makes those experiences feel closer, which strengthens and makes responsibility feel instinctive.

A joint survey by Boston Consulting Group and Snapchat from October 2024 corroborated that Gen Z is 1.6 times more likely than millennials to take actions on causes that matter to them. “There are so many humanitarian crises going on in the world right now. If we are not kind, what are we? We would crumble in an instant without kindness. I think we’d feel more disconnected than ever,” notes Panday. 

However, for Gen Z, kindness looks different. They volunteer and donate more than any previous generation, and globally, 57 per cent prefer direct digital giving for its transparency and scale. It makes kindness easier to organise, but harder to feel in the small ordinary ways of daily life. Impactful as it is, it can feel emotionally distant, compared to the personal gestures of the older generations: a thank you to the waiter, a neighbourly check-in.

This generation isn’t better or worse—just different, thinks Dalal. “We were conditioned to value courtesies like greeting elders; they act only when it feels necessary… When I asked my son why he doesn’t greet people, he said, ‘Mumma, you’re too sensitive. Why should it matter what others think of us?’ It made me realise how much of our own self-worth has always been tied to other people’s opinions.” She furthers, “My generation is far more judgmental—we wear kindness on the surface but scrutinise constantly. What I see in my 15-year-old is different: he’s instinctively empathetic, accepts people’s flaws, and doesn’t expect everyone to be the same.” 

“We are also a generation that was educated through unkindness (punishment and shame),” says Ferreyra. “So we have to unlearn that form of education ourselves, otherwise we’ll keep repeating the cycle.” This kind of upbringing turned kindness into social conditioning for most Gen X and millennials. Politeness was performed to meet expectations or avoid punishment, not born out of empathy.

The commodification of kindness in the digital age

Whether seen as philanthropy or a status symbol, kindness in India has largely been defined by big-ticket charities and donations. While Gen Z excels in volunteering for NGOs, joining protest marches and offering online support to causes, millennials still lead when it comes to monetary donations. One donation was made every 15 seconds in India alone, according to Ketto’s 2024 Kindness Report. 

“While charity, donations, and grand gestures are valuable, they’re not the only, most impactful, forms of kindness,” says Tuganit. “True kindness is in the unnoticed—the way we respond when someone makes a mistake, how we hold space for someone’s silence, or the decision to not lash out when we easily could. It’s not about what we give from abundance, but how we show up in the ordinary.” 

“Kindness is not hierarchical, or measured through how much you can give monetarily,” adds Mehta. “It is more about your intent and your capacity because there is no one way to be kind.” 

“KINDNESS COMPOUNDS IF YOU DO IT WITH AN HONEST INTENT. IF WE MAKE KINDNESS A FLEX RATHER THAN A FAVOUR FOR OTHERS, WE CAN NORMALISE IT” — Siddhesh Lokare

Mumbai-based content creator Siddhesh Lokare (@sidisouly) embodies this tension between intent and visibility. His Reels, which regularly go viral, focus on helping the needy. “Jo dikhta hai, vo bikta hai,” he says. “Scalability can only be attained with the help of distribution. You cannot create a sustainable ecosystem if there’s no audience for it.” Lokare’s work, however, goes beyond social clout. One of his initiatives helped 60-year old Malan Sonawane, an animal feeder, to establish the Animal Mom Foundation, which now feeds over 400 stray animals daily across the city. He believes he only empowered her with a tool to kickstart, and she used it to repair the damaged aspects, underlining the ripple effect that such initiatives can generate.

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A post shared by Siddhesh Lokare🙋🏻‍♂️ (@sidiously_)

Tugnait believes this commodification of kindness reflects something deeper. “People are hungry for softness. Amid chaos and cynicism, kindness-first content offers emotional relief and a sense of hope.” Ferreyra concurs, framing kindness as a human need: “Notice how when someone is well-loved, their best version comes forward? Kindness is one of our core needs. Without it, we fall into the illusion of fear, uncertainty, doubt, and scarcity.”  

Science reinforces this. “Acts of kindness releases oxytocin, which lowers cortisol, reduces inflammation, and even supports cardiovascular health and wellness,” says mental health coach Anandita Vaghani. “A 2021 study found that not only performing, but even recalling acts of kindness, significantly increased well-being. Harvard’s Human Flourishing Program highlights kindness as a central axis of well-being that boosts happiness, reduces anxiety, and deepens life satisfaction.” As loneliness creeps up on everyone, kindness could be a potential antidote.

“Even if some of this kindness is performative, its impact isn’t hollow. “Seeing kindness, even when staged, can activate empathy, inspire action, or shift mood. If someone decides to donate, listen more attentively, or pause before judging, that ripple matters.” 

Mumbai-based Dharmil Shah, 28, believes it starts at home. “When I was in school, I would see my father go out of his way to help people out. I didn’t think much of it, but when he passed away, that was what people remembered him for. That became his legacy,” he says. Now, Shah says relationships feel more transactional and children need to see kindness practised. 

“The smallest things that have the power to stay with someone is what kindness is about,” says Panday. “Smiling at a stranger, listening without interrupting, and not being judgmental. It also starts from being kind when no one is watching, without any social media moral police—picking up after yourself, being honest, and apologising if you have hurt someone” she says. “Kindness to myself has been a learning curve. I’ve had to teach myself that rest isn’t laziness, that it’s okay to not have all the answers, and that setting boundaries is also an act of kindness,” she adds. 

“A lack of kindness doesn’t just hurt, it teaches people they must harden to survive,” adds Tuganit. When kindness is no longer instinctive, it can’t be left to chance. 

Can kindness be taught in schools?

Can kindness be taught? The rise of a ‘kindness curriculum’ shows a shift, where it is now treated with the same seriousness as any other life skill.. “Bringing change and inculcating kindness isn’t impossible,” says Manasi Mehan, co-founder of Saturday Art Class, a non-profit organisation for underprivileged children in Mumbai. She believes teaching kindness to children through art can shape empathy early.  “Innately, children are kind-hearted, and various aspects of kindness and other emotional values can be taught, albeit they are missing from a school’s typical curriculum.” Volunteers often find themselves on the receiving end of that kindness, “sharing their lunchboxes and crayons with us comes so naturally to them,” she adds. 

Panday echoes this belief through her initiative So+. “I was navigating social media at a young age, where there was so much noise and judgment, and very little room to just be,” she says. “I saw not just myself, but so many young people struggling with online negativity, comparison, and the pressure to constantly be ‘on’. So+ was less about fixing something, and more about reminding people (and myself) to lead with kindness.” Her collaboration with Slam Out Loud, a New Delhi-based non-profit organisation, led to the co-creation of a ‘kindness curriculum’ for schools. “We wanted to co-create something joyful, expressive, and honest. It’s filled with storytelling, art, and poetry,” she says. “Even if it sparks one small shift in how they treat someone—or themself—I think we’ve done something worthwhile.”

Treating kindness as a subject, as crucial as mathematics or history, introduces children to the concept early on in life—but that may not be enough. Research shows that children absorb social and emotional behaviours most between the ages of 3 and 8, which means modelling kindness matters as much as teaching it. The small, daily courtesies older generations once learned by simply watching others—thanking your cab driver, a no-agenda check-in with your neighbour—no longer flow as naturally. 

“Being kind to someone without expecting anything in return isn’t the easiest thing to do, but surely the kindest thing to do,” says Shah. According to a 2024 research by the Blackbud Institute, while the number of Gen Z individuals engaging in philanthropic behaviour is on the rise, factors like career advancements and resume goals also drive their choices—it’s not always just altruistic motives.

Kindness in school curricula is just a job half done; a more lasting effect comes through real-life observations. “It’s important to create an environment fuelled by kindness, for children to pick that up. They also need to see actions, and not just learn about kindness theoretically,” adds Shah. “Kindness and empathy are now part of school curricula—my son has an hour of it every week. But parents need these lessons more. Schools can teach empathy, but if home life doesn’t reinforce it, it remains theoretical,” agrees Dalal. 

Children don’t learn kindness by being told to “be kind”—the most effective way is to model it, concurs Devidasani. “If a child is met with empathy when they’re having a hard time, they learn how to offer empathy to others. If a child is allowed to make mistakes without shame, they learn how to be forgiving,” she says. 

“I realised there are more people who care and fewer people who take genuine actions,” adds Lokare. “Just like money or relationships, kindness also compounds if you do it regularly with an honest intent. I feel if we make kindness a flex rather than a favour for others, we can normalise it.”

Every act of kindness, Ferreyra notes, is already a manifestation of that better world. “Being kind is being able to make the world a better place, and we don’t even need a reward for it, because the reward is a better world.” 

What was once instinct or habit, is now something deliberate. From how it’s practiced online to how it’s passed on in classrooms, it is what takes for kindness to endure: less passivity, more intent.