If your child were a new hire, would you let them “Google” their entire work plan — without training, mentorship, or guidance? Yet, many parents expect that at 18, their child should make a decision that will shape not just their education, but their entire trajectory — socially, psychologically, and professionally. “Do whatever makes you happy,” they say, believing that freedom and empathy are exactly what their child needs right now in career decision.

The truth is, at 18, they are biologically unprepared to decide. Why? Because at 17 or 18, a young adult’s brain is still under construction. The prefrontal cortex — the part responsible for decision-making, long-term planning, and evaluating consequences — isn’t fully developed. In other words, just when they’re asked to make one of the most important decisions of their life, they can’t even understand its weight.

Now, place that adolescent brain in today’s reality: more than 17,000 bachelor’s programs offered across European public universities alone. It’s no longer just about “law or business at home.” It’s about placing yourself on a global and professional map — without yet fully understanding the concept of yourself.

Lines like “It’s your decision. I just want you to be happy” might feel supportive, modern, and respectful. But why don’t we leave those to their peers to say, while we — the adults in the room — focus on offering something they actually need: clarity, perspective, and support systems that think two steps ahead?

From “Everything Is Possible” to Real-Life Commitments

Parents often think they must choose between being controlling or being hands-off. But in reality, effective parenting at this stage of life means being constructively involved. It’s not about making the decision for them, but certainly not leaving them to face this mess alone.

Because choice today doesn’t mean what it did twenty years ago.
The world they see is different — it’s filtered, literally. Our kids see “success” daily — curated, aesthetic, staged. They see people “winning” by 22. Influencers “making it” overnight, startup prodigies, tech innovators creating software and selling it for millions “by luck.” They get AI-generated, personalised and inspiring career predictions in seconds… The gap between what our children think adult life looks like and the reality of day-to-day commitment has never been so large. No one posts about the months of uncertainty, the struggles with no context of success. They rarely see quiet failures or slow, at times boring, unglamorous growth that actually defines professional success — because that content doesn’t go viral.

Our children choose their careers differently than we did. Their decisions don’t come from a lack of something, or from having nothing to loose. We raised them so comfortably that they don’t need to escape from our home to live their dream life — they travel with us, enjoy good food, have enough privacy in their rooms, and all of that without spending a cent.

So we can’t expect to inspire them to commit to a years-long career path just to earn money for travel, like we once did. This generation has been told they can “be anything,” and it’s our job to help them narrow that “anything” down. Because when everything feels possible, the brain tends to shut down. That’s called decision fatigue — and this is where we come in. Not to nag, not to preach, but to be the voice of common sense and introduce the long game. To help them separate illusion from reality. To explain that Grey’s Anatomy is more about relationships than medicine, or to point out that Shrinking has very little to do with real psychology. Choosing to study medicine means memorizing every bone and muscle, caring for the sick, and getting very little sleep; studying psychology means absorbing vast amounts of theory, anatomy, and research — long before you ever analyze a client.

Why “Let Them Figure It Out” Isn’t Love — It’s Escaping

When parents say, “It’s their life, they’ll figure it out,” it sounds reasonable — after all, we were told the same, and we managed. But in truth, it’s often an emotionally distant strategy dressed up as modern parenting. More often than not, it’s a subtle form of disengagement. Sometimes, it’s simply a way to avoid conflict.

Yes, they’ll grow. Yes, they’ll adapt. And even if they change their career path later on, the environment they enter now — and the transition into adulthood itself — can deeply shape their future. Beyond the knowledge they’ll gain, it’s the academic community they’ll be part of, the friends and peers they’ll connect with, the culture and values they’ll adopt as theirs— these years of study shape who they become. Not just specialists, but people. And while no path is perfect, preventable wrong turns are our business — because we are the ones with 25 more years of lived experience. We should know a bit better.

So What Should Parents Do to Help Their Children in Career Decisions?

• First, educate yourself. Learn about the programs your child is interested in, the realities of different job markets, and the real-life meaning behind the fields they mention. If they’re considering biomedicine in the Netherlands, for instance, make sure you understand what that actually entails — the coursework, the career paths, the commitment.
• Second, challenge them. If they want to drop chemistry, ask why. Not to interrogate, but to help them think it through. If they’re choosing a subject because it’s trending, help them consider its long-term use. Ask how it connects to where they want to be — and if they even know what that looks like yet.
• Third, bring in the right support. If you don’t have the time or expertise to guide them deeply, get someone who does. An educational advisor, a psychologist, a coach who understands adolescent transitions — these are investments, not indulgences. 
• Then, stay emotionally tuned in. When they shut down or act distant, don’t retreat. Offer a walk, not a lecture. Ask curious questions, not anxious ones. Show them that confusion is not a crisis — it’s a conversation waiting to happen.
• And finally, offer vision — not pressure. Help them imagine possibilities. Let them feel your optimism, not your expectations. Be steady, not pushy. Clear-eyed, but hopeful.

We don’t need to control. But we do need to care — actively, intelligently, and consistently. Be their fact-checkers. Their voice of reason. Their reminders to drink water, update the CV, and email that admissions office. Be the calm when emotions flood, and the steady hand when panic sets in during final exams. Be their cooks, their nutritionists, their sleep and self-care advisers. Be the coach in the corner of the ring.

And then, when everything settles, we step back. Let them feel the ownership. Let them believe they made every decision themselves. Don’t take the credit. Don’t hold the spotlight.

Because one day — not now, not soon — but one day, when they have their own child facing this decision, they’ll remember exactly what you did. Maybe they’ll do it a tiny bit smoother than you did.
And that will be your thank-you.