Nurses Eat Their Young — But Why Are We Still Letting Them?

Nurses Eat Their Young — But Why Are We Still Letting Them?

Recently, my cousin graduated from nursing school. While I was extremely happy for her, I was reminded of an old saying in nursing: “Nurses eat their young.”

It’s one of those phrases people say with a half-laugh, as if it’s just part of the culture. As if every new nurse is supposed to be humiliated a little before they are accepted – the FNG if you will. As if surviving cruelty is some kind of rite of passage.

But the truth is, that way of thinking has never made sense.

New nurses aren’t the enemy. They’re not extra work sent to ruin someone’s shift. They’re not a burden placed on the unit for no reason. They are the future of the profession — and, more immediately, the people coming in to help.

Healthcare is already short-staffed, overworked, and stretched thin. So why would anyone treat a new nurse like garbage when that nurse is there to eventually make the situation better?

A new nurse may not be fast yet. They may not know where everything is. They may ask questions that seem obvious to someone who has been doing the job for twenty years. They may need reassurance, repetition, correction, and guidance.

That’s not weakness; it’s learning.

Every experienced nurse was once new. Every nurse has had the moment of standing in a supply room not knowing where something is, of second-guessing themselves, feeling overwhelmed, or trying to look calm while internally panicking. Every nurse has asked a question they later realized had an obvious answer.

The difference is that some nurses remember what that felt like; others seem to forget.

So what makes some older or experienced nurses treat new nurses badly?

I think sometimes it has a lot to do with burnout. A nurse who’s exhausted, unsupported, and emotionally drained may not have much patience left to give. When someone is barely surviving their own assignment, teaching another person can feel like one more demand.

Sometimes it’s fear. A preceptor may worry that a new nurse’s mistake will become their responsibility. They may feel pressure to keep patients safe, keep the shift moving, and somehow teach everything at the same time.

Sometimes it’s resentment. Some experienced nurses were treated badly when they were new, and instead of breaking the cycle, they repeat it. They think, “I had to learn the hard way, so should they.”

Sometimes it’s ego. There are nurses who use experience as a weapon instead of a tool. They confuse intimidation with leadership. They believe making someone feel small proves they are important.

And sometimes, it is simply poor culture. If a unit has allowed bullying, eye-rolling, gossip, humiliation, and public criticism to become normal, then new nurses will feel it immediately.

None of those reasons excuse it. They may explain the behavior, but they do not justify it.

When new nurses are treated badly, everyone loses. The new nurse loses confidence. The unit loses trust. Patients lose the benefit of open communication. The profession loses another person who may decide nursing is not worth the damage it does to their spirit.

A nurse who’s afraid to ask questions is not safer. A nurse who has been shamed into silence is not stronger. A nurse who is constantly belittled does not magically become competent. They become anxious, guarded, resentful, or burned out before their career has even had a chance to begin.

That is dangerous.

New nurses need accountability, yes. They need correction, structure, and to understand that nursing is serious and that patients depend on them. But correction and cruelty are not the same thing.

You can correct someone without humiliating them.

You can hold someone to a high standard without making them feel worthless.

You can be direct without being hateful.

You can teach without destroying someone’s confidence.

For new nurses, the first thing to remember is this: you are not stupid because you are new. You are supposed to have questions. You will be slower and need help. Nursing school doesn’t teach you how to be a nurse; it gives you facts. But the real world teaches you how to apply those facts under pressure, with real patients, real consequences, and real chaos.

When someone treats you badly, try not to absorb their behavior as a reflection of your worth. Sometimes the way people speak to you says more about their own exhaustion, insecurity, or lack of leadership than it says about your ability.

That doesn’t mean you should tolerate abuse. If a preceptor or coworker is rude, dismissive, or humiliating, stay professional but don’t disappear into yourself. Ask clear, calm questions.

You can say:

“I want to learn this correctly. Can you show me what you expect?”

Or:

“I understand I need to improve, but I learn better when feedback is direct and respectful.”

Or:

“I’m open to correction, but I don’t want to be spoken to that way.”

That is not disrespectful. That is setting a boundary.

New nurses should also document patterns if the behavior becomes repeated or abusive. Write down dates, times, what happened, who was present, and how it affected patient care or your ability to learn. If needed, speak with a manager, educator, or trusted mentor.

There’s a difference between a tough preceptor and a toxic one. A tough preceptor pushes you to think critically; a toxic preceptor makes you afraid to think out loud. A tough preceptor corrects your mistakes; a toxic preceptor makes you feel like you’re the mistake. A tough preceptor prepares you for reality; a toxic preceptor uses reality as an excuse to be cruel.

New nurses also have a responsibility in this process. Show up prepared. Take notes. Ask questions. Own mistakes. Be honest about what you don’t know; don’t pretend to understand something just because you’re embarrassed. Nursing isn’t the place to fake confidence.

The strongest new nurses aren’t the ones who know everything. They are the ones who are willing to learn, to ask, and to keep improving.

But experienced nurses and preceptors have an even greater responsibility.

A preceptor is not just someone with more years on the floor. A preceptor is a foundation builder. The way a new nurse is taught can shape the way they practice for the rest of their career.

A good preceptor explains the “why,” not just the task.

They don’t just say, “Do it this way.” They explain why it matters, what can go wrong, what to watch for, and how to think through the situation.

A good preceptor creates space for questions.

They don’t act annoyed every time the new nurse needs clarification. They understand questions are part of safe practice; they would rather answer a question than clean up a preventable mistake.

A good preceptor gives feedback privately when possible. No one learns well while being embarrassed in front of patients, families, or coworkers. Public humiliation may make someone comply in the moment, but it doesn’t build confidence or critical thinking.

A good preceptor balances honesty with encouragement. New nurses need to know where they are struggling, but they also need to know what they are doing right. Confidence doesn’t come from constant praise, but it also doesn’t grow in an environment where someone only hears criticism.

A good preceptor remembers the goal. The goal isn’t to prove that the new nurse knows less; of course, they know less - they’re new. The goal is to help them become safe, capable, confident, and independent.

That requires patience, emotional control, leadership; and it requires experienced nurses to understand that teaching is not an interruption to the profession, but rather part of protecting it.

If we want better nurses, we have to build them. We cannot insult them into excellence or shame them into confidence. We cannot bully them into critical thinking.

We build strong nurses by giving them structure, correction, standards, support, and respect.

That doesn’t mean nursing should be easy; it isn’t easy. It’s never been easy. New nurses need to learn how serious the job is. They need to understand prioritization, accountability, communication, and patient safety. They need to learn how to handle pressure without falling apart.

But there is already enough pressure in nursing. We, as experienced nurses, don’t need to become another source of harm.

The phrase “nurses eat their young” should not be accepted as tradition; it should be treated as a warning sign. A profession that destroys its beginners can’t complain when no one wants to stay.

New nurses are not weak because they need guidance.

Experienced nurses are not strong because they survived mistreatment.

The strongest nurses are the ones who use what they have learned to make the next nurse better.

Healthcare needs new nurses. Units need new nurses. Patients need new nurses. And someday, those new nurses will become the experienced ones — the ones teaching, leading, and setting the tone for whoever comes next.

So the question is not whether new nurses will struggle; they will.

The question is whether we will help them grow through that struggle or make them feel alone in it.

Nursing is hard enough. We shouldn’t make it harder on each other.

Good luck to you, Destiny, as you find your path!

At Code Coffee, we believe the people who care for others deserve care too — and that includes the nurse just starting out, trying to find their footing, trying to become the kind of nurse patients can trust.

They do not need to be eaten.

They need to be taught.

They need to be challenged.

They need to be supported.

And above all, they need to be reminded that they belong.