Once upon a time, children were expected to be “seen and not heard”. They sat around like ornamental doilies that were decorative but not particularly useful. This rather problematic motto didn’t exactly encourage curiosity or independence, but children knew that they weren’t in charge.

But now? Oh, how the pendulum has swung! Children must always be heard. Self-expression is king, and kids are given megaphones, stages and fan clubs. And because of this, they’re using their platform to announce with the righteous certainty of the ill-informed, that adults must “earn” respect.

I was completely astonished the first time I heard a child utter this. A pupil declared, without so much as a twitch, that she was rude to her teacher because the teacher hadn’t earned her respect yet. Earned it! We’re talking about basic decency, not loyalty points on a punch card to earn a free coffee. Should teachers collect stamps for good behaviour before they’re entitled to a morning greeting? I tried to explain to the pupil that the teacher could have turned the tables and said exactly the same thing back: that she herself had yet to earn the teacher’s respect.

And where would we be then? If respect must always be earned before it is shown, there will be none. We’d all just stand around sullenly with our arms folded, like angry cats in a standoff, waiting to see who blinks first. Respect has become like the abandoned set of Uno cards in the cupboard (full of potential, but never used because we’re all too busy bickering about the rules).

Surely, surely, respect must be the default position. It should be the entry-level setting for human interaction. It’s not the deluxe upgrade you unlock after placating everyone around you. It doesn’t matter who the person is. It could be a parent, child, teacher or stranger in the supermarket, or someone on social media who holds opposing views. Respect is the minimum requirement for a functioning society.

And yet, here we stand, raising a generation of children who believe their own needs to be more important than the way they treat others. They’re constantly told how delightful and precious they are, and they must demand respect, which is perfectly true, as long as they’re not completely precocious. Children with underdeveloped frontal lobes are not yet ready for world domination, or, frankly, for determining the pecking order in the classroom.

Now, respect can certainly be lost. It can be squandered through cruelty and hypocrisy. If you’re arrogant enough, you will lose everyone’s respect. And once it’s lost, it must absolutely be earned back. But the starting point, the basic human posture, is respect. If teachers must prostrate themselves before the adolescent tribunal to prove their worthiness, we’ve upended that natural order. Who ends up in charge?

It should be the adults.

We don’t let children drive or consume alcohol or live alone because they’re not yet responsible enough. And yet, parents, when summoned by the school, nod along as if their darling children are just speaking truth to power. They agree that teachers must earn respect, as if classrooms are audition halls and teachers are performing for an adolescent Simon Cowell, waiting for him to push the buzzer. Have we lost our collective minds? Teachers cannot teach if they must first turn cartwheels to win a popularity contest.

We must be very careful here. If we raise children to believe that respect is optional or transactional, we’ll set them on an unsuspecting world with a warped sense of self-importance. They will struggle in workplaces and relationships, where one is expected to demonstrate courtesy, even when people haven’t dazzled them with their charm. Respect is the lubricant that keeps civilization's rusty gears turning. Without it, the machinery screeches, splutters and collapses.

And so, I beg (with a hint of hysteria) respect must be everyone’s default setting. Lose it if you must, claw it back if you can.  But for heaven’s sake, don’t let children think that adults must grovel for it. And that, dear reader, is how the world ends – not with a bang, but with a snivelling whimper of “you haven’t earned my respect”.