The Entitlement Epidemic: Why It’s Everyone’s Problem

I’m writing this from a beach chair in Cabo. It’s just me and my wife, stealing a rare and much-needed moment of rest. The sun is hot. The drinks are cold. Life feels good right now. And maybe that’s what has me reflecting.

Because as I sit here, enjoying a privilege I absolutely do not take for granted, I can’t help but think about one of the most concerning things I see in our world today, entitlement.

If I’m being honest, I think entitlement is at the root of so many issues we’re dealing with. From customer service blowups to toxic work environments, from community disengagement to ultimately what has been the slow erosion of human decency, this quiet belief that we’re owed something is poisoning how we treat each other.

Entitlement doesn’t come from wealth or poverty. It doesn’t care about your job title, your upbringing, or your circumstances. It’s not about how much you have. It’s about believing that what you do have—or don’t—means the world owes you something in return.

Let me explain.

A wealthy person can fall into entitlement when they believe their money gives them the right to treat others poorly. But it goes deeper than that. Sometimes it’s not even about direct disrespect, it’s about assuming the rules don’t apply to them. It’s cutting the line because they think their time is more valuable. It’s expecting special treatment from public services because they “pay more in taxes.” It’s believing that wealth alone should equate to influence or importance. Sometimes it shows up as subtle arrogance, like being surprised when someone says “no” to them. Other times, it’s loud and obvious, demanding, belittling, or threatening when things don’t go their way. Their belief is: “I earned this, so I deserve more.” But earning something doesn’t entitle you to everything. That kind of mindset erodes humility and creates a disconnect from the shared human experience we all live in.

But here’s the kicker. A person with very little can fall into the same trap, just from the opposite direction. It’s not always loud or aggressive—it often shows up as quiet resentment. It’s the belief that because life has been unfair, the world owes them something to make up for it. It’s expecting exceptions instead of opportunities. It’s saying things like, “Must be nice,” or “They’ve always had it easier,” while refusing to take ownership of what can be controlled. Sometimes it looks like rejecting help unless it comes exactly the way they want it. Other times it’s anger toward systems that are imperfect but trying. Their belief is: “I’ve had less, so I deserve more.” But hardship doesn’t give us a free pass. Struggle can build character, but only if we let it. Entitlement, even when born from pain, is still entitlement. And left unchecked, it replaces growth with blame and blocks the very progress it claims to seek.

At the core, both perspectives are rooted in the same broken narrative. I deserve something just because of where I am.

I see it every day.

On a small scale, we have softball participants who play in our leagues every year.

And every year, like clockwork, they find a way to be disrespectful, loud, and flat-out rude to our officials. They argue every close call like it’s personal. They make snide comments under their breath and sometimes not under their breath. And when we confront them about it, the response is always some version of, “I pay to play, so I can say what I want.” That right there is the root of entitlement. Payment doesn’t buy you permission to be disrespectful. Your money covers your place in the league. It doesn’t cover your attitude.

On a larger scale, I see it playing out in local politics in ways that are visibly dividing our community.

On one side, we have folks who believe public services, and city government itself, are just entitlements that should exist without cost. They rally hard against any kind of taxation, convinced that they’re being wronged. But they’re also the first to speak up when those very services get cut, or when their street doesn’t get plowed after a snowstorm quick enough, or when the park down the street doesn’t meet their expectations. They criticize loudly, forgetting that you can’t demand services and oppose the systems that fund them.

On the other end, I see some community members so fiercely defensive of government operations that they dismiss legitimate questions and concerns outright. They treat anyone who challenges or misunderstands something as ignorant or naïve, sometimes responding in ways that feel more like scolding than listening. Their message, even if unintentional, can come across as: “We know best, and the rest of you need to catch up.” That kind of condescension is entitlement too, it just wears a different outfit.

Neither side is helping. Both are fueled by the same idea. I am right, and the world owes me something because of it.

Entitlement shows up when people stop being accountable. When gratitude disappears. When we start measuring life in terms of what’s missing instead of what’s possible. And we see it everywhere—schools, politics, workplaces, even within our own teams.

So what do we do about it?

If you’re a leader, this is where your role really matters. We cannot expect others to push back against entitlement if we are not modeling something different. Leadership is not about being served. It’s about serving. It’s about showing up, owning your role, and being someone others can count on—regardless of the recognition or reward.

As leaders, we fight entitlement by setting standards, not excuses. By praising effort, not expectation. By being honest, direct, and humble in how we engage with people, whether they are thriving or struggling. Leadership is a long game of lifting others without lowering the bar.

This doesn’t mean we ignore pain or pretend life is fair. It means we hold people capable. We empower rather than enable. We teach that accountability and compassion are not opposites, they are partners. And we recognize that true growth comes from responsibility, not reward.

It starts with us. With how we show up at work. How we raise our kids. How we carry ourselves in daily interactions.

If you’re waiting on life to give you what you think you deserve, you’re going to wait a long time. But if you believe in doing the work, giving your best, and treating others with respect regardless of what you get back, you’re already winning.

Let’s lead that way. Let’s expect that from others. And let’s be bold enough to push back on the entitlement epidemic with something far more powerful, ownership.

Not because we’re owed anything. But because that’s what good people do.