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by Randa Ali for The 44 North, Guest Writer 


Youth are increasingly faced with climate anxiety and strong opinions about wars they aren’t signing up for, yet will inherit. The environmental cost of war shows that these two issues are interconnected and that this data is not being provided to them.


Artwork by Logan Brewer
Artwork by Logan Brewer

"When it comes to the intersection of war and the environment, youth feel how heavily it has and will impact them. They expect more from world leaders."

Editor's Note:


This article is the first installment of a three-part series. The 44 North will release two more articles, the first delving into how Canadian policy allows the military to avoid climate accountability and the second discussing how the environments of countries experiencing conflict are hit the hardest. Youth will discuss how they feel about the climate impact of the bombings they witness from their phones, alongside Canada’s specific role in the environmental cost of war.



“Yesterday morning I woke up, and the sky was orange,” says Sylphia, who describes witnessing the effects of climate change in Toronto this summer. As a 24-year-old freelance journalist who writes on the Middle East and keeps up with news on climate change, she’s no stranger to how these two issues intersect. When she thought about speaking about the environmental cost of war with The 44 North, she said: “I think the environment, war, and capitalism are very interconnected webs.”


Youth are reporting feeling immense climate anxiety and frustration over wars they never subscribed to, but will inherit the consequences of. After witnessing the impacts of bombings via independent journalists documenting conflict zones on their social media feeds, they already know that wars harm the environment. Due to a lack of accountability and communication in reporting the impacts of militaries and war on climate, youth—and everyone, really—are left unaware of the full extent of these intersecting crises. Through interviews with three climate-conscious youth and one climate researcher, The 44 North explores what youth need to know about the environmental cost of war.


What the environmental cost of war means


Youth are painfully aware of how deeply war and conflict are affecting the world. “This has been going on for years and years and years and years,” says Ethan, a law student, recalling multiple global conflicts, particularly in Gaza. 


This is not just a feeling. Since records began being collected in 1946, there hasn’t been a single year without conflict. The global conflict tracker by the Council on Foreign Relations shows nearly 30 active conflicts are unfolding across the world as of 2026,  the environmental impacts of which aren’t being reported by the responsible parties, ranging from carbon emissions to environmental degradation. This doesn’t come as a surprise to Sylphia, especially given her line of work: “I do think that there’s a definite thread between the multiple ongoing wars, [...]the military industrial complex and how much the climate crisis seems to have accelerated.”


The full scope of the environmental cost of war is vast: The resource extraction, energy use, emissions from maintaining military weapons and personnel, war-fighting, physical destruction of the land, and reconstruction of the ruins. Ethan paints a picture of his understanding of this full process:  


“The environmental cost is not just the dropping of bombs, but the extracting of all the raw materials necessary to build them, and the oil being spent to ship them across international waters [between] where the raw materials are [excavated] to where bombs are constructed. And then, there’s the oil used to fly the fighter jets.”


Photo by Edgar Serrano via Unsplash
Photo by Edgar Serrano via Unsplash

The weight of military emissions


When we think of the world’s worst climate offenders, few people expect military emissions to top the list. The intersection between militarism and the environment is rarely discussed—whether in mainstream media, statistics released by global bodies, or advocacy through most environmental organizations. Meanwhile, researchers and advocates in this field say that the environmental impacts of the military are too vast to continue to overlook


Andrew Jorgenson is a professor of sociology at the University of British Columbia (UBC), and the founding director of UBC’s Climate & Society Lab. Jorgenson’s research examines how national militaries contribute to their respective country's economies and overall carbon emissions. When he teaches students about the environmental impacts of the military, he says,  "A common reaction [is]  'Wow, this really makes a lot of sense. I've never thought about this. It's never crossed my mind.'"


Military activity and its enormous global supply chains are estimated to account for approximately 5.5% of all global greenhouse gas emissions during relative peacetime post-World War II. The world’s militaries emit approximately 2.75 billion tonnes of CO₂ equivalent per year. These emissions are greater than the entire global shipping (3%) and aviation (2%) industries combined. In fact, if the world’s militaries were a country, they would have the fourth highest carbon footprint on the planet, higher than the entire nation of Russia.


Further, these numbers are an estimation: Military emissions are one of the largest unaccounted sources of carbon emissions in the world. Despite a drastic rise in conflict and war, the data remains concealed, optional to report, and consistently omitted from global climate accounting. Furthermore, if the full scope of destruction and reconstruction were added, researchers expect the true figure would be many times higher.


"If anything, we're all probably under-counting,” says Jorgenson. “What we're estimating is very conservative [compared to] the actual overall impacts."


A white cardboard sign reading “System not climate change” in black capital letters.
A white cardboard sign reading “System not climate change” in black capital letters.

The burning of fossil fuels is the main component fueling human-led climate change, and an essential part of running global militaries. The military runs on an enormous amount of fossil fuels, demonstrated most clearly by the U.S. military. The U.S. Department of War, formerly known as the Department of Defence, is the world’s largest institutional consumer of petroleum, accounting for 80% of all U.S. Federal government energy consumption since 2001. In 2024, the combined military emissions of NATO countries, China, and Russia reached a record high of 551 million metric tonnes of CO2 equivalent. This is the equivalent of driving over 300 million cars on the road every year. 


As Jorgenson researches this data to figure out what drives military energy consumption, he shares, “Part of it is largely [...] tied to the direct burning of fossil fuels by jets and other related machinery, because they're just so energy intensive."


In Canada, the Department of Defence accounts for 60% of its federal emissions. Sarah, an environmental engineering student who asked that her name be changed to protect her privacy, was surprised to hear this figure. “I didn't think the number was that large,” she says. “I thought it was more like 20%.” 


Why military emissions are not included 


The responsibility for the carbon footprint of militaries was deliberately left out of the climate equation almost 30 years ago, before most of today’s youth were even born. During the Kyoto Accords in 1997, the United States successfully lobbied to exclude military emissions from any global climate frameworks. The Paris Agreement partly addressed this issue, leaving reporting voluntary. Of the 70 largest militaries committed to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), only half submit any military emissions data. Even among those that do, no nation reports emissions on war-fighting activities. At best, experts estimate that militaries only report 10% of their carbon footprint


"A lot of governments, when they don't want to take accountability for something specific, either j don't report on it or don’t [collect] the data for it,” says Sarah. “Part of a functioning democracy is [making] that data available so that people can ask for what they want because they can see the whole picture [...] If you can't see what [the government is] doing, then how do you know what to ask for?"


Via Unsplash
Via Unsplash

Military emissions matter now


Researchers have been sounding the alarm about military emissions for decades and maintain that it’s a critical time for addressing the extent of this issue. As global military spending has risen every year for the past decade, setting a record $2.7 trillion in 2024, emissions have grown with them. Countries have released plans to expand their militaries even further, which implies an emissions-saturated future without any plans for climate accountability. As current wars stretch across months and even years, these active conflicts will continue to add unmeasured and devastating costs to the environment. Without including these costs, researchers say the picture of the environmental cost of war is still out of sight: plans to decarbonize cannot be made without these essential data points. 


When it comes to crafting decarbonization plans or reducing environmental impact, the targets militaries have set almost exclusively address buildings and administrative vehicles. The emissions associated with their operational fleets (fighter jets, tanks, warships, and more), alongside international operations, make up the majority of emissions. Jorgenson says his research found an important opportunity, where "Modest decreases in military spending for the U.S., such as a 6% decrease in their annual military spending budget, could lead to [meaningful reductions in energy consumption]."


Governments, global bodies, and militaries are aware of this significance and the environmental impacts of their operations and warfighting. In 2021, NATO Secretary General Stoltenberg said, “There is no way to reach net zero without also including emissions from the military.” 


Looking Ahead


The discussion on the environmental cost of war does not end here. To any students wondering what to do with this information, Jorgenson says: "Now [that] you actually know about it, and you're thinking about it [...] share this with your friends and your relatives and your colleagues."


When it comes to the intersection of war and the environment, youth feel how heavily it has and will impact them. They expect more from world leaders. Sarah shares her message to the government on how their actions are reflecting to youth:


"The government needs to start taking accountability for the emissions that occur from war. And not only that, but the social impact costs as well. Because this is not only affecting the environment, it's also affecting people." 


The 44 North will release two more articles, the first delving into how Canadian policy allows the military to avoid climate accountability and the second discussing how the environments of countries experiencing conflict are hit the hardest. Youth will discuss how they feel about the climate impact of the bombings they witness from their phones, alongside Canada’s specific role in the environmental cost of war. 


Randa Ali is a Toronto writer whose work focuses on sustainability, climate, arts & culture. She's interested in how intersections between people, planet, and profit shape politics, culture, and communities. She holds a Master of Science in Sustainability Management from the University of Toronto and is training in journalism. Randa’s work can be seen on Instagram @byrandaali.


by Temi Jolaawo for The 44 North, Guest Writer


"If smaller, digital forms of consumer-driven eugenics remain normalized and unchecked, the ideology of eugenics risks evolving from past atrocities such as forced sterilization, segregation, or genocide to a widespread belief system; a system so covert that it could become a harmful and pervasive belief entirely under the radar."

“Let the parents go on—we need 500 of these models,” was the first supposedly ‘harmless’ comment I saw under a viral lip-sync video. However, when I continued scrolling, the tone of these comments only grew more disturbing. Comments such as “Keep producing to better humanity,” “They have good genes,” and “Imagine a world with a billion Scandinavians instead of Indians” each received hundreds of likes. The four girls in the video—platinum hair and sapphire eyes—were undeniably gorgeous, but the comments had little to do with admiration. Instead, they revealed something far more troubling: The recent rebrand of an age-old ideology made new. This ideology is called eugenics, and it should not be resurrected. 


Eugenics isn’t a new word by any means. We’ve seen it in the Fitter Family Competitions that rated families based on physical traits and perceived social status, in the Nuremberg Laws of 1935, aiming to prevent “race defilement,” and in the forced sterilization of countless innocent women deemed unsuitable for reproduction. Eugenics has been admonished by most of the modern greater society, particularly after becoming synonymous with World War II. Nonetheless, eugenics, like any other damaging movement, has wound itself back into mainstream conversations. Eugenics never disappeared—it simply adapted.


Eugenics is a scientifically refuted worldview that aims to “improve a population’s genetic composition” through selective breeding (Merriam-Webster, n.d.). It misinterprets the Mendelian law of genetics, believing complex human characteristics can be passed down as simply as single-gene traits. Eugenics claims that human traits such as intelligence, criminality, and other social behaviours could simply be “bred out.”


Now, eugenics appears in more subtle ways: In pseudo-scientific articles that claim certain races face discrimination based on genetic differences, in groups of people who advocate for wealthy individuals to reproduce to “save the human race,” or via that one guy across the street who is against interracial relationships on the premise of ‘protecting racial purity.’ These examples all fall under the umbrella term ‘consumer-driven eugenics,’ the modern reinvention of a centuries-old doctrine. Although consumer-driven eugenics may not be as invasive or overt as previous forms of the ideology, this ‘soft’ or ‘social’ form of eugenics still reinforces the same dehumanizing notion that certain individuals are fundamentally superior to the people around them, and that humans exist in genetic tiers or hierarchies.


Many social hierarchies, such as caste systems, feudalism, white supremacy, and colonial structures, have unjustly held power throughout history. While none is inherently worse or more palatable than the other, eugenics differs slightly. Eugenics not only upholds existing hierarchies—particularly white supremacy—to rank the value of an individual’s genes based on racism, ableism, and misogyny, but it also seeks to enforce these views through physical and often coercive means. This is where I believe eugenics shifts from a hierarchy to an ideology, becoming a complex worldview. It aims to take tangible measures to reach its goal of human perfection.


Eugenics, then, became actionable in two ways: Positively and negatively. Positive eugenics aims to promote reproduction between people who are genetically sound, and negative eugenics discourages, or forcibly bars, reproduction between people deemed genetically inferior (NIH, n.d). For example, in 1933, the American Birth Control League wrote, “Birth Control is of importance when it advocates birth selection by encouraging reproduction of the mentally, physically, and socially adequate and the birth restriction of those not so equipped (Whitney, 1933, p. 85).”


In 1924, the Sterilization Act in Virginia was passed, allowing the state to sterilize anyone deemed “feeble-minded” by force (NIH, 2021). But what did ‘feebleminded’ really mean? It could mean “intellectually inferior,” “troublesome,” or simply “promiscuous” by the state—all ambiguous definitions allowing the state to dictate who had the right to reproduce—who got to be seen in future generations—at its discretion.


The terms ‘feebleminded’ and ‘promiscuous’ are what condemned 18-year-old Carrie Buck to forced sterilization in Virginia, for example. The state didn’t ask about her mother’s past, or the fact that Carrie herself had been unwillingly assaulted; rather, they wanted to sterilize her to “prevent her from passing her perceived feeblemindedness to future generations (Kalomiris, 2022)." The state of Virginia saw someone a notch below perfect on the genetic social hierarchy, a problem that needed to be fixed, erased, and barred from the possibility of future reproduction.


Although there are notable victims such as Carrie Buck, many victims worldwide remain unknown; victims who lost their right to autonomy because they were deemed “genetically inferior” by the state (Lira, 2018). There has been a steady decline in reports of state-supported eugenics, especially after its negative connotations to Nazi Germany when it “flourished during the three decades before the end of World War II (NHGRI, 2022).” Despite this, I believe that through our culture’s thought processes, laws, and opinions, consumer-driven eugenics persists. 


This form of eugenics manifests itself in smaller settings. Instead of state-led eugenics campaigns, this modern-day form of eugenics is often a personal choice—many individuals, small corporations, and even politicians seem to believe in worldviews similar to those of past eugenicists, such as anti-immigration sentiments and “great replacement” ideologies (Sear, n.d). People who believe in modern-day eugenics have found ways to sanitize certain terms. For example, instead of overtly claiming racial superiority, they speak in dog whistles, such as referencing “genetic differences.” This sanitization of eugenics has allowed its notions to be publicly shared, discussed, and normalized with little to no opposition. 


The normalization of eugenics becomes especially harmful when done through social media, given its efficiency and reach. Social media—although implicitly—has contributed to the recent rebranding of eugenics. Its algorithms often recommend personalized, polarizing content that can expose users to and amplify radical ideologies, including eugenics. While the process of radicalization may be complex, social media encourages divisive content and provides a platform for it to spread (Shaw, 2023). This is further exacerbated by social media’s global reach, which turns ideas that would otherwise be an individual’s ideology into a worldwide discussion. As a result, radical, eugenicist ideologies can gradually become more visible and even more normalized in mainstream media.


Although social media can’t be blamed as the sole driver of rebranding eugenics, it plays a critical role, even during our most recent wars. A clear example is the war in Sudan, where there was a stark difference in the way the media and society acknowledged the inhumane conditions Sudanese civilians endured (Booty et al., 2025). Russia’s war on Ukraine, for example, was met with greater sympathy and empathetic language toward refugees, showing that many still believe, even if implicitly, that some lives matter more than others. 


In smaller-scale online situations, comments praising only one kind of beauty or employing hate speech have risen. It doesn’t take much scrolling through Instagram reels, for example, to see negative comments under a video of an interracial couple, claiming they’re “traitors to their own race.” These negative comments—reflective of old, harmful ideologies—have seemed to increase in recent years, fueled in part by the counter-cultural push towards conservatism. 


Modern-day eugenics also relies on scientific misinformation and propaganda to sustain its influence and relevance. Health propaganda, widely spread online, fuels skepticism and distrust among different groups of people, promoting division and keeping the movement relevant. The “dying white race,” for example, is a narrative that ignites fear of an “imminent white genocide” (Levine-Rasky, 2014). These theories misrepresent demographic data and weaponize it against other groups without addressing the broader societal trends. This “data” is then used to justify eugenics and similar ideologies. 


“Genetic inferiority” is also an ideology commonly spread online. These ideologies, as noted by prominent individuals such as Elon Musk, hold that wealthy people have a responsibility to pass on their genes and to “better society” (Schmitz, 2025). These are only two instances of health misinformation seen online, but many remain. If smaller, digital forms of consumer-driven eugenics remain normalized and unchecked, the ideology of eugenics risks evolving from past atrocities such as forced sterilization, segregation, or genocide to a widespread belief system; a system so covert that it could become a harmful and pervasive belief entirely under the radar.


If the damaging social effects of eugenics aren’t frightening enough, research indicates that eugenics is scientifically misinformed. The essential ideals of eugenics are based on scientific racism or pseudoscience and are discredited by scientific findings (NHGRI, 2022). The basis of eugenics is to protect people with perceived ‘good genes’ from extinction, and to promote their genes to the future generation. Ironically, eugenics goes directly against its main objectives.


Eugenics discourages certain phenotypes from reproducing, promoting one kind of human. This is detrimental to genetic diversity, which does more harm than good for humanity. Gibson (2018) noted that, “Disease protection is among the most well-supported consequences of genetic diversity in populations.” With a lack of genetic variation, humanity is limited and cannot adapt to our ever-changing environment, ultimately making us more vulnerable to extinction and disease. In the words of Sear (n.d), “Eugenics really is ideology, not science.”


Modern-day eugenics is a concept with disturbing potential in today’s world. Every joke resembling eugenic ideals of the past threatens to normalize harm. Those portrayed as dangerous by modern-day eugenics are often the ones who live in constant fear of the society that targets them. 


Understanding the past is crucial to preventing the ever-present resurgence of eugenics. Although we’ve improved, we still have work to do. Eugenics hasn’t been removed from our laws, our systems, or our opinions. It’s “the very foundation of our current cultural mindset and our present modes of thinking, being, and doing” (“Historical Chronology”, 2021-2024, p. 3). We need to address the recent rise of eugenics, especially online, and tackle our obsession with “the ideal human.” Maybe our pursuit of human perfection has obscured our appreciation for humanity.


Editor's Note:


The following article reflects the views & analysis of the author. As with all opinion and essay submissions, the piece has been edited for clarity and reviewed carefully for factual accuracy, but the interpretations & arguments are the author’s own. The 44 North publishes an array of perspectives & voices to encourage and ensure thoughtful engagement with complex social, political, historical, and cultural issues.



References


Temi Jolaawo is a volunteer, community leader, and 11th-grade student who attends Nanaimo Christian School in BC, Canada. As a recent volunteer for Island Health, Temi Jolaawo is actively committed to nurturing her interests in public health and social issues/justice. Temi currently enjoys playing sports, listening to music, and making art. Through the art non-profit she founded, “CreationStationNanaimo,” she shares her love for art and creativity with various children in the community.


by Lillian Currie for The 44 North, Guest Writer


Youth activists at a protest holding yellow signs with red letters.
Youth activists at a protest holding yellow signs with red letters.
"If political institutions want greater youth participation, they must stop treating young people as future citizens and start treating them as citizens now." 

Young people are constantly criticized for being “too disconnected” from politics. Headlines often describe Generation Z as apathetic, distracted, or uninterested in civic engagement. Older generations frequently argue that young people spend more time scrolling through social media than paying attention to elections, policy, or democratic participation. Yet, this narrative ignores a much more important question: Why do so many young people feel disconnected from politics in the first place?


The issue is not that youth don’t care. In fact, young people are among the most vocal advocates for climate action, racial justice, affordability, education reform, mental health awareness, and human rights. Across the world, youth-led protests and online movements have demonstrated extraordinary passion and concern for social issues. What many young people struggle with isn’t not caring about politics, but believing politics genuinely cares about them in return. 


Increasingly, young people feel alienated from political systems that seem distant, performative, and unresponsive to their realities.


This growing divide between youth and politics has been shaped by several interconnected factors: Broken political promises, polarization, inaccessible political language, the overwhelming negativity of political discourse, and the influence of social media. Together, these forces have created a generation that often feels powerless rather than empowered. However, despite these challenges, youth disengagement isn’t inevitable. Young people consistently show that when they feel represented, informed, and valued, they’re willing to participate. Authentic leadership, civic education, grassroots activism, and meaningful representation can help rebuild trust between youth and political systems.


One of the largest misconceptions about young people is that they’re entirely uninterested in politics. In reality, many statistics show the opposite. According to Statistics Canada, 67% of Canadians aged 15 to 30 reported searching for information on a political issue online, while nearly half had signed an online petition related to social or political causes. Additionally, 37% reported boycotting or choosing products for ethical reasons. These numbers reveal that youth are not disconnected from issues affecting society. Instead, they’re engaging with politics in ways that often fall outside traditional systems like voting or party membership.


Young people have repeatedly been at the forefront of major social movements. The global climate movement, led in large part by youth activists, has pressured governments and corporations to take environmental concerns more seriously. Movements advocating for racial justice, Indigenous rights, LGBTQ+ equality, and mental health awareness have also been heavily driven by young organizers. According to a 2021 study from the Pew Research Centre, younger generations were significantly more likely than older adults to attend rallies, volunteer, donate, or contact officials regarding climate change. These actions demonstrate not apathy, but deep concern for the future.


However, while many youth care passionately about issues, they often feel ignored by political institutions themselves. One major reason for this disconnect is performative politics. Politicians frequently speak about supporting young people during campaigns, promising action on affordability, education, housing, or climate change. Yet many youth feel those promises rarely result in meaningful change. Rising tuition costs, increasingly unaffordable housing, and economic instability continue to impact younger generations. As a result, politics can begin to feel less like a system designed to represent people and more like a cycle of empty slogans repeated every election season.


This frustration is intensified by the fact that many young people feel their concerns are treated as secondary compared to the interests of older voters. Older generations historically vote at higher rates, making them a more reliable political demographic. Statistics Canada found that voter turnout among Canadians aged 18 to 30 was consistently lower than turnout among older adults, especially in municipal elections. Because political parties prioritize groups most likely to vote, young people may feel politically invisible. This creates a damaging cycle: Youth feel ignored, which discourages participation, and lower participation then leads politicians to focus even less on youth concerns.


Another major factor contributing to youth alienation is the increasingly polarised and hostile nature of political discourse. Politics today is often framed as constant conflict rather than collaborative problem-solving. On television and social media, political discussions frequently appear aggressive, divisive, and emotionally exhausting. Instead of encouraging participation, this environment can push young people away.


For many teenagers and young adults, politics is introduced not through meaningful civic education, but through online outrage. Social media platforms expose users to endless cycles of scandals, arguments, misinformation, and anger. Every day, young people encounter headlines predicting environmental collapse, threats to democracy, economic crisis, or attacks on human rights. While awareness is important, constant exposure to negativity can create emotional burnout. Politics begins to feel hopeless rather than empowering.


Growing up in the digital age has dramatically shaped how young people experience politics. Platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and X allow political information to spread rapidly, but they also reward emotional intensity and conflict. Algorithms often prioritize content that provokes anger, fear, or outrage because those emotions generate engagement. As a result, many youth are exposed to politics primarily through emotionally charged clips, arguments, or misinformation instead of thoughtful discussion or education.


This online environment can make politics feel performative rather than constructive. Politicians increasingly rely on viral moments and social media branding to connect with younger audiences. While some digital outreach can make politics more accessible, young people are often highly aware when attempts at relatability feel forced or insincere. Memes, trends, or simplified slogans cannot replace meaningful action. Young people want authenticity, not marketing strategies disguised as activism.


At the same time, schools often fail to provide strong civic education that explains how political systems actually function. Many students graduate with a limited understanding of how laws are passed, how local governments operate, or how ordinary citizens can influence change. Without this knowledge, politics can feel inaccessible and confusing. Complex political language, legal terminology, and institutional processes may seem intentionally designed to exclude ordinary people.


This educational gap leaves many young people feeling powerless. They are told voting matters, yet they’re rarely taught how broader civic engagement works beyond elections. Consequently, some youth conclude that individual participation cannot realistically create change. Feelings of powerlessness are especially common among marginalized youth who may already feel excluded from institutions due to race, class, gender identity, or economic barriers.


Personal lived experiences also shape how youth understand political and social systems. Throughout middle school, I often overheard predominantly white preteens casually calling their Black friends racist names such as “monkey” as a joke. At the time, I never had the courage to say anything, but those experiences stayed with me. They revealed how normalized prejudice and ignorance can become when people are not educated about the harm of their words. More importantly, it demonstrated why conversations about racial justice and political responsibility matter. Those preteens eventually enter high school, workplaces, and broader society, carrying those attitudes with them unless they are challenged. Silence around these issues only allows harmful behaviour to continue.


Experiences like these help explain why many young people care deeply about social justice issues while simultaneously feeling disconnected from formal politics. They see problems affecting their communities every day, yet political systems often appear slow, reactive, or unwilling to address them meaningfully. This disconnect creates frustration because youth are constantly told they are “the future,” while their present concerns are frequently dismissed.


Despite this alienation, there are many signs that young people are not giving up on democracy altogether. In fact, youth participation often increases when young people believe their voices genuinely matter. According to Elections Canada, voter turnout among Canadians aged 18 to 24 rose significantly in recent federal elections compared to earlier decades, showing that young people are more likely to participate when political issues feel urgent and personally relevant. Although youth turnout remains lower than that of older generations, the data suggest that engagement is possible when young people feel represented and believe their voices can create meaningful change.


Young people are also more likely to participate when leaders speak with them instead of talking down to them. Authentic representation matters deeply. Youth want leaders who understand the realities of student debt, housing insecurity, rising costs of living, discrimination, and online culture because they have experienced those challenges themselves. Younger candidates and grassroots organizers often generate excitement because they appear more relatable and connected to everyday concerns.


Community involvement and grassroots activism are especially powerful tools for rebuilding political engagement. Many youth feel more motivated to participate in local initiatives where they can directly see the impact of their actions. Volunteering, organizing community events, participating in protests, or advocating for local issues can make politics feel tangible rather than abstract. Research highlighted by organizations like Simon Fraser University’s Centre for Dialogue suggests that young people are often highly engaged civically, even if they don’t always participate through traditional political channels.


Improving civic education is another essential solution. Schools should teach not only how governments function, but also how students can participate in shaping their communities long before they’re old enough to vote. In Ontario, students take a “Civics and Careers” course in Grade 10, but civic engagement should be woven throughout a student's education rather than confined to a single class. Young people should learn how to contact elected officials, advocate for policy changes, evaluate sources critically, organize community initiatives, and contribute to local decision-making. These experiences help students develop a sense of belonging and show them that their voices matter before they reach voting age. As a teenager myself, I’ve seen and felt how empowering it can be when young people are given opportunities to contribute to conversations that affect their schools and communities. Civic education should encourage participation and confidence, rather than simply require students to memorize facts about political structures, history, and figures.


Additionally, political spaces themselves must become more accessible. Political discussions shouldn’t rely so heavily on complicated jargon or exclusionary language that alienates ordinary citizens. Young people should feel invited into conversations about policy rather than be made to feel uninformed for not already understanding every aspect of government. Democracy functions best when participation is encouraged, not gatekept.


Most importantly, young people need proof that participation can create real change. Trust cannot be rebuilt through slogans alone. Governments and political leaders must demonstrate accountability by following through on promises, listening to youth concerns, and creating opportunities for genuine participation. When young people see policies directly improving affordability, education, climate action, or mental health resources, political engagement begins to feel worthwhile.


Ultimately, the idea that young people are simply “too disconnected” from politics ignores the deeper reality of youth alienation. Young people are not apathetic because they’re lazy, uninformed, or incapable of caring. They are navigating political systems that often feel distant, performative, inaccessible, and overwhelmingly negative. They care deeply about the future, but many are still searching for evidence that their voices truly matter.


Rather than blaming youth for disengagement, society should ask why so many young people feel unheard in systems supposedly designed to represent them. If political institutions want greater youth participation, they must stop treating young people as future citizens and start treating them as citizens now. Through authentic leadership, stronger civic education, community engagement, and meaningful representation, politics can once again become something young people feel part of rather than excluded from. Only then can the emotional and social divide between youth and politics begin to close.


Bibliography & Further Reading


Lillian Currie is a creative and compassionate high-school student with a strong interest in helping others and making a positive impact in her community. She is passionate about pathways involving children and youth, including social work and pediatric healthcare, and enjoys studying topics such as criminal law, history, and sociology.


Outside of school, Lillian is highly involved in her community. She is an active Youth Steering Committee Member for the Women in Leadership Foundation and also serves on the youth council for Harmony Movement. In addition, she works closely with the Glocal Foundation of Canada, contributing to the writing and research of academic papers. Through all three volunteer opportunities, she has accumulated nearly 200 volunteer hours.


Beyond academics, Lillian is passionate about dance. She has been dancing recreationally for three years and competitively for two, already achieving notable success in her dance journey. She is known for being kind, hardworking, and dedicated to supporting the people around her while continuing to grow both personally and academically.


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