“The promise of modern democratic capitalism is that every generation is better off than the previous generation,” says David Willetts, former Tory minister and president of the progressive Resolution Foundation, and author of The Pinch. “If modern capitalism is not delivering that promise, we shouldn’t be surprised that young people get pretty sceptical about it and look at radical alternatives.”
Modern democratic capitalism, it seems, has failed. The scepticism Willetts notes is increasingly reflected in political choices that break from the traditional age-determined left-right divide. In the US, more than half of men aged 18 to 29 (56%) voted for Donald Trump in last year’s election, while his support among young women grew to 40%.
While this trend surprised some commentators, it has already been well-established in Europe, where youth support for progressive parties has been shrinking over the past decade. In last June’s European elections, Germany saw 16% of its under-25 voters back the far right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), propelling the party to second, ahead of Olaf Scholz’s Social Democrats.
In France, 30% of young voters cast their ballots for Marine Le Pen’s National Rally, while in Italy, more than one-fifth threw their support behind prime minister Giorgia Meloni’s Brothers of Italy. This surge in support for far right parties is evident across Europe, from Spain to Hungary, capitalising on the disillusionment fostered by deep generational inequality.
A broken system
The gap between generations is stark and growing. Baby boomers hold an unparalleled share of economic power, having benefited from decades of rising property values and relatively stable job markets.
In contrast, Millennials and Generation Z are navigating a very different reality. In the UK, over 78% of privately held housing wealth is owned by those aged 50 and older, highlighting the vast disparity in property ownership between older and younger adults. This trend is mirrored across Europe, with homeownership rates among those under 35 plummeting by over 10 percentage points in the last 20 years.
The job market offers little relief. While older generations enjoy steady employment and secure career paths, younger people face the double blow of high unemployment rates and job insecurity.
Youth unemployment in Spain and Greece is around 20% to 25%, leaving a significant portion of young people without stable work. Those who do manage to find jobs often contend with precarious employment; by 2022, 23% of workers aged 15-29 in the EU were employed on temporary contracts, compared with just 12% of the general workforce.
On top of economic challenges, young people are burdened by the ageing populations of their societies. As birth rates decline, healthcare systems and pensions come under immense pressure, shifting an unsustainable economic load to younger generations. The younger demographic is left grappling with the reality of funding an ageing population’s needs while facing job scarcity and wage stagnation.
Political power mirrors this generational imbalance. Across Europe, the average age of national leaders remains in the low 50s, and the European Parliament seats held by young people are disproportionately low compared with their share of the population.
Despite making up 25% of the European population, those under 30 hold only 10% of seats in the parliament. Lord Willetts underscores this imbalance, explaining: “Markets serve consumers, especially when there are lots of them. Being part of the big postwar Boomer generation gives you the power to shape markets and win elections for the people who back you. For smaller subsequent cohorts, they have less market power and less electoral power.”
This loss of power, and the broken promises of modern capitalism, have not gone unnoticed. Young people are becoming increasingly less satisfied than older generations across Europe and the US, citing their fears of being unable to live, work, and buy a house with the same economic stability as their parents. Lynn Perry, chief executive of Barnardo’s, said the trend was “a sign the social contract is broken and we’re at risk of failing the next generation.”
Perhaps it is not too much of a surprise that 52% of 13- to 27-year-olds in Britain have given up on democracy, instead preferring to be ruled by a dictator with no elections, according to a recent poll by Channel 4, which also found 33% of Gen Z agreeing that the UK would be better off “if the army was in charge”.
It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it
While it may be easy to attribute the rise in support for nationalist parties to concerns over immigration, Prof Daphne Halikiopoulou, chair in comparative politics at the University of York, explains that there are many different reasons for voters supporting the far right, “some even reporting they don’t have immigration concerns”, she explains, “but they face significant socio-economic issues, such as access to housing, health services, and other state services.”
Her view is shared by other academics who note the role of dissatisfaction and anger in growing youth support for the far right. Following the European elections, Ngaire Woods, dean of the Blavatnik School of Government at Oxford University, wrote: “Young voters’ growing support for xenophobic, anti-EU, and ultra-conservative parties is driven less by anti-immigrant sentiment than by a powerful sense of betrayal by establishment politicians. Far right politicians, while wrongly blaming immigration, at least recognise that there is a problem, and they are doing so in ways that resonate with younger voters.” Willetts concurs: “Generational inequality is one of the drivers of the far right.”
Much of the far right’s recent success across Europe comes from their willingness to confront systemic injustices head-on, offering quick fixes that appeal to angry voter groups. For the young – who are particularly dissatisfied – this is a winning strategy.
Hungary’s prime minister, Viktor Orbán, introduced tax exemptions for workers under 25 and subsidies for young families to boost birth rates and youth employment, while Marine Le Pen’s National Rally in France proposed measures that targeted young French workers, such as welfare benefits and job guarantees for native-born citizens under the “national preference” framework.
In contrast, centrist parties across Europe have tended to prioritise long-term reforms for acute problems such as housing, unemployment and the cost of living, choosing tweaks to the Labour market, investment in renewable energy, planning reforms, and industrial strategies over the tax breaks, hand-outs and protectionism offered by the far right. Young people, who feel the immediacy of these issues, seem increasingly drawn to solutions that promise instant relief.
But while economic factors often drive individuals towards the far right, cultural motivations also play a significant role. “There are two different sets of reasons: the economic or material ones, and the perception, and you need to look at these separately,” Halikiopoulou explains.
Dr Catherine Fieschi, founder and director of research company Counterpoint and author of Populocracy: The Tyranny of Authenticity and the Rise of Populism, agrees, explaining that far right actors have crafted a compelling narrative around the “reconquering of lost rights” that appeals to young people: “[it’s this] idea that we have a right to certain things and a right to a good life. That means housing and jobs, but also it’s about consideration.”
This is particularly evident in Portugal, where the far right party Chega (“Enough”) is the most popular among the 18-34 age group. Its leader, André Ventura, frequently criticises the Portuguese government for failing to create adequate opportunities for young people, suggesting that high levels of youth emigration – where nearly one-third of 15- to 39-year-olds now live abroad – are symptomatic of economic stagnation and mismanagement.
There is also a particularly masculinised dimension to this appeal, as far right actors link intergenerational grievances to the emancipation of women, drawing in young men specifically. “There is a massive divergence between male and female attitudes,” Fieschi explains, noting the growing ideological gap between men and women that has been observed around the world.
This, in part, is due to the success of the narrative deployed by far right actors, where “older folk and women” have “robbed you of your chances”, Fieschi says.
This trend is evident across Europe, where far right parties have mobilised young male voters by appealing to these gendered cultural grievances. In Finland’s 2023 parliamentary elections, nearly 30% of working-age men supported the Finns Party, which emphasised “family policy” over gender equality and opposed progressive welfare and childcare reforms.
Similarly, in Poland’s 2023 elections, the far right Confederation drew its strongest support from 18- to 29-year-old men. After the election, party leader Janusz Korwin-Mikke infamously stated that he believed women should not have the right to vote.
In some cases, the narrative is more subtle. In Italy, Giorgia Meloni’s 2022 election success was built on traditionalist, pro-natalist policies. While Meloni doesn’t target feminist movements as directly as some of her European counterparts, her emphasis on motherhood and family as pillars of national identity resonates with those nostalgic for traditional gender roles.
In 2019, Meloni declared: “I am Giorgia, I am a woman, I am a mother, I am Italian, and I am Christian, and you cannot take that away from me!” Lavinia Mennuni, a senator in Meloni’s party, went perhaps even further, stating that a woman’s “first aspiration” should be motherhood: “My mother always used to tell me… you must always remember that you have the opportunity to do whatever you want, but you must never forget that your first aspiration must be to be a mother yourself.”
Among far right parties, feminism is portrayed as a zero-sum game that appeals to the resentment of young men. “It’s this perfect storm,” Fieschi explains, “this feeling that they’re being frozen out of the goods that the older generations got, but also that they’re being frozen out of the spoils of society because of women.”
The role of social media
A crucial factor in the far right’s increasing popularity is its adept use of social media, particularly platforms like TikTok, to connect with younger voters. By tailoring messages to resonate with the grievances of young people while avoiding alienating older demographics, these politicians have broadened their appeal. Figures such as Rita Matias in Portugal and Jordan Bardella in France exemplify this strategy.
Bardella, the youthful face of France’s National Rally with more than two million TikTok followers, emphasises themes of French sovereignty and cultural identity, blending economic discontent with national pride. Meanwhile, Matias incorporates nationalist rhetoric into popular TikTok trends, seamlessly embedding her messaging into the platform’s culture.
As Fieschi explains, this approach allows far right actors to “compartmentalise issues”, delivering messages about intergenerational unfairness on TikTok without alienating older audiences. “Far right parties have been very good at reaching out on these issues to younger generations. Not necessarily in a very direct way – they very rarely say ‘your grandparents are screwing you over’ – but they are obviously saying you’re not going to get the same shot at a decent life, a decent job, and so on.”
Social media also serves as a distorting lens, amplifying perceptions of generational and societal injustice, Fieschi notes, making individuals more susceptible to far right messaging. A 2023 Pew Research Center study found that nearly a quarter of young people report feeling worse about their lives due to social media. “Comparison is now so easy, and it breeds not only resentment but also suspicion,” Fieschi observes. “What did this person do to get there that I didn’t? Is it fair? And then, ‘How real is this?’ that erodes trust in any of the images you’re seeing, and you want to tear the whole edifice down.”
Lessons from Europe
Should the UK government be alarmed about the rise in far right support among young people? While the recent general election showed British youth have broadly retained their progressive credentials, the far right is slowly gaining traction with younger voters.
In the recent election, the centre-left Labour Party secured 40% of the vote among 18- to 24-year-olds, while the Green Party followed at 18%. But a more recent poll has shown a surge in support for Reform UK among young men, a trend that is causing concern among liberal commentators and academics. As similar economic inequalities that persist across Europe also exist here in the UK, some fear that if Nigel Farage’s party were to adopt the generational strategies used by Europe’s far right – exploiting economic stagnation, cultural alienation, and a sense of exclusion – Keir Starmer could face a formidable challenge. Halikiopoulou warns against the UK government being drawn into right wing talking points, particularly adopting policies that echo the far right’s rhetoric, such as immigration or pro-natalism.
“Research shows that when you increase the salience of these issues, voters don’t opt for the copycat; they go for the original,” she explains. Instead, she argues that progressive governments should push forward “socio-economic policies that help young people deal with social issues […] It’s not that immigration isn’t important, but we need solutions to other pressing problems.” She adds: “The approach should be to belittle the far right’s influence by showing that other issues matter more.”
Willetts argues that the Labour government should focus specifically on targeted measures to reduce generational inequality, such as reforming the pension system. “Imagine linking pensions to earnings, and with the savings, building a fund for young people,” he explains, suggesting the money saved could go towards a “£10,000 capital grant at age 30”. This, he argues, would help young people invest in education, housing, or pensions, redistributing wealth between generations – as well as sending a cultural message of value to younger people. For Fieschi, it is the growing cultural divide between young men and women that should concern the government most. She suggests a focus on education policies that “valorise young men’s contributions without disadvantaging young women”. She asks, “What can be done at the school level to reward young men and ensure they don’t feel locked out of society? Is it creating programmes where their aspirations and skills are valued?”
While Labour has been cautious about tackling intergenerational inequality directly, their policies hint at awareness: reforming planning laws, building more homes, adjusting inheritance tax, and changing pensioner-only benefits. But both Halikiopoulou and Willetts stress that bold action is needed, particularly in the form of a coherent vision that the left can articulate.
“The left is known for offering economic solutions,” Halikiopoulou notes. “We often get caught up in cultural narratives, but people need to pay their bills, have a house, and food to eat. The economy can’t be irrelevant… we need competitor parties to develop their own vision that doesn’t mimic the far right.”
Meanwhile, Willetts remains optimistic: “The older generation does care about the younger generation. The trouble is we think we can best support them solely within the family. But beyond being good parents, we should be good citizens.
“We have an obligation to the younger generation as a group, not just our own children. That’s not an impossible political appeal.”
Zoë Grünewald is a political journalist and broadcaster
