An interview room has never been a social space. It is not a living room, a family gathering or a group chat. It is a formal environment with an unspoken hierarchy, and earlier generations understood that instinctively.

For clarity, this applies to structured work environments, whether large corporates or smaller businesses with formal expectations, including online interviews where the same professional standards still apply. Creative and artistic fields often operate differently, with more informal norms, but this is not about those spaces. This is about interview rooms where structure, accountability and hierarchy still matter.

When Baby Boomers and Gen X walked into an interview, they knew exactly where they stood. They were the newcomers. The person across the table was someone who knew the industry, carried authority, and had real power over whether you walked out with a job or not. That awareness created a certain seriousness. Not fear, but respect for the pecking order within that organisation.

Preparation was not optional. You learned everything you could about the company before you arrived. You knew what they did, how they operated, and where you might fit. Walking in uninformed would have been embarrassing. You didn’t expect the interviewer to explain the basics of what the company stands for to you. That was your responsibility to do that homework beforehand.

There were nerves too. Butterflies in the stomach were normal. Even confident people felt anxious before an interview, especially when facing a CEO or senior manager. That anxiety wasn’t weakness. It came from understanding the moment mattered, and that you wanted the job, and you wanted to earn it.

Manners were expected, not discussed. You greeted properly. You waited to be invited to sit. You listened without interrupting. You answered questions clearly and respectfully. Familiarity was not assumed. You did not behave as though you were already part of the organisation, because you weren’t. That distance mattered.

If the interviewer was relaxed, you could take cues from them, but the responsibility to remain professional stayed with you. You didn’t joke your way into credibility. You didn’t overshare. You didn’t try to sound clever for the sake of it. You spoke carefully, knowing that every word carried weight.

What feels different today is not confidence, but entitlement. Many younger candidates walk into interview rooms expecting senior positions without experience, authority without time served, and flexibility without having proven themselves. There is an assumption that if this opportunity doesn’t work out, another one will. That mindset shows, often in very small ways.

Respect lives in the details. How you enter a room. How you sit. Whether you listen. Whether you speak clearly or trail off. Whether you treat the interview as something you deserve, or something you are asking to be considered for. These things are noticed.

An interview is not about showing personality first. It is about understanding that the job is not owed to you. Someone has to trust you with responsibility, with time, with money, with people. Earlier generations didn’t romanticise work. They understood that you start somewhere, learn, prove yourself and move up. That patience built credibility. That credibility built careers.

Interview rooms haven’t changed as much as people think. They are still places where respect, preparation and self-awareness matter. The rules were never written down, but they were always clear.

Ignoring these rules doesn’t make you modern. It makes you unappointable.