In my country, this isn’t a trend limited to Gen Z. Across generations, there’s been a persistent tendency to demand self-disclosure—often at the cost of one’s privacy—as a condition for closeness or trust within social groups.
For example, about 20 years ago, in certain university clubs or insular workplaces, newcomers were expected to participate in “initiation rituals” or “party tricks” that involved nudity or invasive physical contact. In some serious cases, these crossed the line into sexual harassment or assault. Refusing to comply often meant risking one’s place in the community. These practices were long tolerated before they were finally recognized as social problems.
Even about 10 years ago, it was still common in some circles to pressure others to drink excessively at social gatherings, or to use intoxication as a way to extract unwanted confessions or enforce coerced intimacy. Such behaviors were often justified as being “part of the atmosphere” or “just how things are,” and those who resisted were criticized for “not reading the room.”
Legally, regulations against sexual and power harassment have gradually been introduced, and overtly abusive behavior has become less common, at least on the surface. But this is often because “the law prohibits it,” not because the underlying values have changed. As a result, the same power dynamics and rights violations continue in subtler, harder-to-see forms.
Take location sharing, for example. When the act of sharing or not sharing your real-time location starts to function as an implicit measure of trust or closeness, it ceases to be a truly voluntary choice. There’s a significant difference between choosing to share your location and feeling socially pressured to do so. And this pressure, as in many past examples, tends to arrive wrapped in the logic of the group—before the individual has a chance to think.
The act of sharing itself isn’t the issue. But once it becomes a social default, people who choose not to share are seen as unusual, or even suspicious. They may be expected to explain themselves. And because the pressure often comes cloaked in ideas like “safety” or “trust,” it becomes even harder to resist—especially for younger people, who are most immersed in always-on digital relationships.
In my own circles, I often see situations where location sharing is treated as normal, even expected. Refusing to share can be perceived as cold, uncooperative, or evasive. And when privacy-conscious behavior is viewed not as a neutral choice but as a breach of social norms, that reveals a deeper misunderstanding—one not unique to my country, I suspect.