Concluding thoughts. You can find the previous two parts of this series here: first part, second part.
In debates about the demographic crisis, we too often ask why young people are not having children. We far less often ask them what kind of world they are expected to start a family in.
Author: Olga Nádra
Economic Insecurity, Repeated Crises, and the Loss of Stability
In social debates about childbirth and family formation, the same question returns again and again: why do today’s young people not want to have children? The question itself is understandable. Across many European countries, birth rates are falling, societies are ageing, and increasing pressure is being placed on pension, healthcare and social systems. The demographic crisis is real. The problem, however, is that the debate surrounding it often begins from the wrong premise.
In previous parts of this series, I discussed economic uncertainty, inflation, the housing crisis, changes in relationships, social expectations and the weakening of future prospects. All of these are important factors. But there may be an even more fundamental question that we rarely ask with sufficient honesty.
Do today’s young people really live in the same world as those who make decisions about them?

A different generation, a different world
A significant share of today’s decision-makers grew up in a fundamentally offline world. It was an era in which relationships were built primarily in person, jobs appeared more predictable, and the promise of a relatively linear life path still existed: education, work, housing, family, stability.
For many young people today, this life model is no longer a natural reality, but a distant historical memory. The current young generation was socialised in an entirely different environment. They learned to communicate, build relationships, present themselves, and often even to love in the online space. They grew up in a world where uncertainty is not a temporary state of crisis, but a constant background noise.
For them, the digital sphere is not simply a new communication channel. It has become one of the basic environments of social existence. In this world, opportunities appear almost endless, but the feeling of stability is often more fragile than ever. The number of choices has increased, while the sense of security has declined.
What do young people see in front of them?
While the younger generation is constantly criticised, it also sees the lives of its parents very clearly. It sees a generation that studied, worked, adapted, took responsibility and performed, yet in many cases lives under exhaustion, burnout and constant financial pressure.
They see overtime, multiple shifts, permanent stress and postponed lives. They see that in many families, the price of housing has become decades of debt. Loan upon loan, just to have somewhere to live, while life itself is often pushed into the background. Less rest, fewer shared experiences, less genuine security.
This is why some young people are not postponing family formation simply because they “do not want to take responsibility”. Perhaps they are cautious precisely because they can see too clearly what consequences may follow from a life strategy built on unstable foundations and poor timing.
This is where one of the most uncomfortable questions should be asked: is this really the life model they are expected to follow?
A system that was not designed for them
While society expects young people to solve the demographic crisis, we speak far less about the system we expect them to sustain. A pension and social system designed for entirely different demographic conditions, a different labour market and different life paths.
In Hungary, this question is particularly sharp. Because of the demographic effects of the Ratkó era, earlier generations were significantly larger than today’s younger cohorts. As a result, a smaller generation is expected to support a larger ageing population, while its own existential security is not necessarily in place.
This is not merely a financial or demographic technicality. It is a question of the social contract. What do we expect from a generation that is simultaneously asked to keep the economy functioning, finance an ageing society, have children, adapt to labour-market changes, and build its own housing and mental stability?
The answer often appears in the same repeated phrases:
- work more,
- have children,
- take out a loan,
- plan for the long term,
- take care of old age,
- manage as a sandwich generation.
But in a world where economic crises, waves of inflation, wars, geopolitical tensions and social uncertainties follow one another, the future is no longer a stable promise. It has become a risk.
The future does not mean the same thing to everyone
For previous generations, long-term planning often meant the language of advancement. Work, savings, home ownership, family formation. For young people today, the same words often appear as risk management. How much debt is safe to take on? How stable is the job? Will housing be accessible? Can a family be sustained on two salaries? What happens in the case of illness, divorce, job loss or another crisis?
These are not cynical questions. They are rational questions.
Perhaps it is time to say a difficult truth out loud: a significant part of our current social and economic systems was not designed for the lives of today’s young people. They were created in an era of different demographic ratios, a labour market that seemed more predictable, and a stronger promise of linear life paths.
Every generation naturally clings to the world in which it grew up. But just because a model once worked does not mean it can still function unchanged today.
Young people should not be forced to fit the old system
Today’s young people are expected to sustain the economy, support an ageing society, have children and constantly adapt, all at the same time. Meanwhile, in many cases, the foundations of their own stable lives are not in place. Housing is expensive, the labour market is unpredictable, mental burdens are high, and social trust is low in many places.
Perhaps this is why we should not constantly try to adjust young people to the old system. Instead, we should finally ask whether the system itself has adapted to the world in which they live.
Young people today do not necessarily reject the institution of the family. Rather, they question the life model they have seen before them. They are not lazy, selfish or irresponsible. Perhaps they are simply responding more honestly to the reality in which they live.
This distinction matters. Because if we misinterpret the decisions of young people, we will give the wrong answers to them. If we treat as a moral problem what is partly structural uncertainty, we will produce more campaigns, slogans and expectations while failing to address the real causes.
Demography is not just statistics
The demographic debate often revolves around numbers: fertility rates, age pyramids, pension sustainability and labour shortages. These indicators are indispensable. But the future of a generation cannot be understood from statistics, birth data or economic indicators alone.
Having children is not only a financial decision. It is also a decision based on trust in life. It is about whether someone can imagine a future in which there is room for a child. It is about whether there is a stable relationship, secure housing, predictable work, a supportive environment, mental reserves and social trust.
When these are missing, having children is not simply postponed. For many, it becomes an incalculable risk.
That is why it is not enough to persuade young people to have more children. Social conditions must be created under which starting a family does not feel like self-sacrifice, a financial leap into the unknown or an existential risk, but a viable life path.
Talk with them, not only about them
To get there, however, we must first recognise another mistake. We constantly talk about young people. We write analyses about them, hold them accountable, turn them into subjects of political debate and attach generational labels to them.
But how often do we genuinely ask them?
How often do we sit down to talk with them not in order to lecture them, but to understand them? How often do we listen to what they think about housing, work, relationships, mental burdens, family and the future? How often do we allow them to appear not merely as a demographic target group, but as political and social actors?
Perhaps the biggest problem is not that young people today think differently about the future. It is that we still mostly try to decide that future without them.
A generation cannot be expected to sustain the economy, finance an ageing society and solve the demographic crisis while its own housing, mental security and sense of future remain uncertain.
To understand the demographic crisis, it is therefore not enough to talk about young people. It is not enough to analyse them, blame them or build campaigns around them.
We should not only talk about them.
We should finally talk with them too.
Cover photo credit: ChatGPT

Olga Nádra is a social worker and a specialist in gerontology and mental health. She completed her studies at Kodolányi János University. She has more than fifteen years of practical experience in elderly care as well as in supporting people with psychiatric conditions. Her work is grounded in empirical insights gained in the field, through which she engages with questions related to mental health, care systems and the social welfare system. She believes strongly in lifelong learning and therefore continues to deepen her professional knowledge through ongoing training and research.
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Your writing has a way of resonating with me on a deep level. I appreciate the honesty and authenticity you bring to every post. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.