In an era where youth empowerment is widely discussed and actively promoted, a striking contradiction persists: many young people still feel unheard.
Across education, workplaces, families and governance, the importance of including young voices is repeatedly emphasised. Yet there remains a significant gap between the intention to empower and the lived experiences of young people. If opportunities to participate exist, why do so many still feel that their voices go unnoticed?
India, where nearly 60 per cent of the population is young, is simultaneously witnessing growing concerns around mental health. Reports, including those from the World Health Organisation (WHO), highlight rising levels of anxiety and depression among adolescents and young adults. While these challenges have multiple causes, one important factor is the inability to express oneself freely and feel genuinely heard.
One of the most common reasons behind this disconnect is the generational gap. In many Indian families, conversations often become one-sided.
One of my friends wanted to pursue a career in a creative field but was told, “There is no stability in that.” The discussion ended there. I have experienced something similar myself. When I tried to explain my preferred career path, I was simply advised to “think practically.” What followed was not a conversation but a pre-decided conclusion. At that moment, it was not only my choice that disappeared—it was also my confidence to express future opinions.
This pattern extends beyond homes into educational institutions.
Students are encouraged to participate, but when they question existing methods or offer alternative perspectives, they are sometimes viewed as disruptive rather than curious. I remember a classroom discussion where a classmate challenged a commonly accepted viewpoint, only to be told, “This is not in your syllabus. Don’t overcomplicate it.”
Moments like these quietly discourage critical thinking and intellectual curiosity.
While exploring this issue, I came across the concept of tokenism.
Many institutions invite young people to participate in discussions, surveys or feedback exercises, but their involvement often remains superficial. My college regularly circulates feedback forms asking for student suggestions, yet visible changes rarely follow. Similarly, youth panels and meetings are organised where students are encouraged to speak, but final decisions are often made without incorporating their inputs.
Participation without influence creates only the illusion of empowerment.
Silence surrounding mental health further deepens this problem.
A close friend of mine struggles with anxiety, yet her concerns are often dismissed at home with remarks such as, “Everyone feels stressed. Focus on your studies,” or “Don’t make a big issue out of it.” She once considered seeking professional help but hesitated because her family feared social judgement.
Such responses often leave young people feeling isolated rather than supported.
The same pattern appears in everyday decision-making.
Choosing a course, applying for internships or making career choices is frequently shaped more by family expectations than personal aspirations. I have often caught myself wondering, “Will this decision be accepted?” instead of asking, “Is this what I truly want?”
Guidance is essential. But when guidance consistently replaces individual thinking rather than nurturing it, personal growth suffers.
As the saying goes, guidance should shape voices, not replace them.
Digital platforms, often celebrated as spaces for free expression, present another contradiction.
Whenever I have expressed an unpopular opinion online, I have faced criticism that made me question whether I should have posted it at all. Sometimes I have even deleted my own posts.
Instead of encouraging dialogue, social media frequently rewards conformity. Many young people begin filtering their thoughts, sharing only opinions they believe will be widely accepted.
At a broader level, academic pressure, career uncertainty and societal expectations create an environment where speaking up often feels risky.
One of my relatives wanted to pursue a non-traditional course alongside her regular degree but abandoned the idea out of fear of rejection and conflict. Over time, repeated silence turns into self-doubt, reducing confidence and participation.
Governments and educational institutions are making genuine efforts to involve young people in innovation and decision-making. However, the real challenge lies in implementation.
Ideas are invited, but meaningful follow-up, mentorship and transparency often remain missing. When participation produces no visible outcome, engagement gradually loses its meaning.
The feeling of being unheard is rarely created by one dramatic incident.
It grows through countless everyday experiences—being interrupted mid-sentence, having opinions dismissed as “immature,” or participating in discussions where decisions have already been made.
These experiences exist in classrooms, homes, workplaces and public spaces alike.
Addressing this issue requires more than acknowledging young voices. It requires listening to them with sincerity.
Young people need spaces where they can express themselves, ask uncomfortable questions, make mistakes and still feel respected. They are already speaking—in conversations, classrooms, online platforms and within themselves.
The recent public mobilisation to protect the Aravalli Range demonstrated that young voices can influence national conversations when they are truly heard.
The challenge is not that young people are silent.
The challenge is that too often they are heard—but not genuinely listened to.
Until listening becomes as important as advising, the gap between empowerment and lived experience will continue to widen.
