Latest news with #GeneralSocialSurvey
Japan Today
16-05-2025
- Politics
- Japan Today
From defenders to skeptics: The sharp decline in young Americans' support for free speech
By Jacob Mchangama For much of the 20th century, young Americans were seen as free speech's fiercest defenders. But now, young Americans are growing more skeptical of free speech. According to a March report by The Future of Free Speech, a nonpartisan think tank where I am executive director, support among 18- to 34-year-olds for allowing controversial or offensive speech has dropped sharply in recent years. In 2021, 71% of young Americans said people should be allowed to insult the U.S. flag, which is a key indicator of support for free speech, no matter how distasteful. By 2024, that number had fallen to just 43% – a 28-point drop. Support for pro‑LGBTQ+ speech declined by 20 percentage points, and tolerance for speech that offends religious beliefs fell by 14 points. This drop contributed to the U.S. having the third-largest decline in free speech support among the 33 countries that The Future of Free Speech surveyed – behind only Japan and Israel. Why has this support diminished so dramatically? Shift from past generations In the 1960s, college students led what was called the free speech movement, demanding the right to speak freely about political matters on campus, often clashing with older, more censorious generations. Sociologist Jean Twenge has tracked changes in attitudes using data from the General Social Survey, a biennial survey conducted by the University of Chicago's National Opinion Research Center. Since the 1970s, this survey has asked Americans whether controversial figures – racists, communists and anti-religionists – should be allowed to speak. Support for such rights generally increased from the Greatest Generation, born between 1900-1924, to Gen X, born between 1965-1979. But Gen Z, those born between 1995-2004, has reversed that trend. Despite the fact that the Cold War, which pitted the communist Soviet Union and its allies against the democratic West, ended more than three decades ago, even support for the free speech rights of communists has declined. Political drift and cultural realignment At the same time, some data suggests that young Americans may be drifting rightward politically. A Harvard Institute of Politics poll in late 2024 found that men ages 18–24 now identify as slightly more conservative than those ages 25–29. Another Gallup survey showed that Gen Z teens are twice as likely as millennials to describe themselves as more conservative than their parents were at the same age. This shift may help explain changes in speech attitudes. Today's young Americans may be less likely to instinctively defend speech aligned with liberal or progressive causes. For example, support among 18- to 29-year-olds for same-sex marriage, generally considered a liberal or progressive cause, fell from 79% in 2018 to 71% in 2022, according to Pew Research. Attitudes toward hate speech The Future of Free Speech study found that younger Americans are especially hesitant to defend speech that offends minority groups. Only 47% of those ages 18 to 34 said such speech should be allowed, compared with 70% of those over 55. Similarly, tolerance for religiously offensive speech was 57% among younger respondents, down from 71% in 2021. This concern over harmful or bigoted speech is not new. A 2015 Pew survey found that 40% of millennials believed the government should be able to prevent offensive speech about minorities. More recently, a 2024 report by the nonpartisan free speech advocacy group FIRE found that 70% of U.S. college students supported disinviting speakers perceived as bigoted. Over a quarter said violence could be acceptable to stop campus speech in some cases. Broader implications Why does this matter? The First Amendment protects unpopular speech. It does not just shield offensive ideas, but it safeguards movements that once seemed fringe. Whether it's civil rights, LGBTQ+ rights or anti-war protests, history shows that ideas seen as dangerous or radical in one era often become widely accepted in another. Today's younger Americans will soon shape policies in universities, media, government, tech and the public square. If a growing share believes speech should be regulated to prevent offense, that could signal a shift in how free speech is interpreted and enforced in American institutions. To be sure, support for free speech in principle remains strong. The Future of Free Speech report found that 89% of Americans said people should be allowed to criticize government policy. But tolerance for more provocative or offensive speech appears to be eroding, especially among young people. This raises questions about whether these changes reflect a life-stage effect − will today's young people become more speech-tolerant as they age? Or are we seeing a deeper generational shift? The data suggests Americans across all generations still value free speech. But for younger Americans, especially, that support seems increasingly conditional. Jacob Mchangama is Research Professor of Political Science and Executive Director of The Future of Free Speech, Vanderbilt University. The Conversation is an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. External Link © The Conversation
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Young Americans' support for free speech declines sharply
For much of the 20th century, young Americans were seen as free speech's fiercest defenders. But now, young Americans are growing more skeptical of free speech. According to a March 2025 report by The Future of Free Speech, a nonpartisan think tank at at which I am executive director, support among 18- to 34-year-olds for allowing controversial or offensive speech has dropped sharply in recent years. In 2021, 71% of young Americans said people should be allowed to insult the U.S. flag, which is a key indicator of support for free speech, no matter how distasteful. By 2024, that number had fallen to just 43% -- a 28-point drop. Support for pro‑LGBTQ+ speech declined by 20 percentage points, and tolerance for speech that offends religious beliefs fell by 14 points. This drop contributed to the United States having the third-largest decline in free speech support among the 33 countries that The Future of Free Speech surveyed -- behind only Japan and Israel. Why has this support diminished so dramatically? Shift from past generations In the 1960s, college students led what was called the free speech movement, demanding the right to speak freely about political matters on campus, often clashing with older, more censorious generations. Sociologist Jean Twenge has tracked changes in attitudes using data from the General Social Survey, a biennial survey conducted by the University of Chicago's National Opinion Research Center. Since the 1970s, this survey has asked Americans whether controversial figures -- racists, communists and anti-religionists -- should be allowed to speak. Support for such rights generally increased from the Greatest Generation, born between 1900 and1924, to Gen X, born between 1965 and 1979. But Gen Z, those born between 1995 and 2004, has reversed that trend. Despite the fact that the Cold War, which pitted the communist Soviet Union and its allies against the democratic West, ended more than three decades ago, even support for the free speech rights of communists has declined. Political drift and cultural realignment At the same time, some data suggests that young Americans may be drifting rightward politically. A Harvard Institute of Politics poll in late 2024 found that men ages 18 to 24 now identify as slightly more conservative than those ages 25 to 29. Another Gallup survey showed that Gen Z teens are twice as likely as millennials to describe themselves as more conservative than their parents were at the same age. This shift may help explain changes in speech attitudes. Today's young Americans may be less likely to instinctively defend speech aligned with liberal or progressive causes. For example, support among 18- to 29-year-olds for same-sex marriage, generally considered a liberal or progressive cause, fell from 79% in 2018 to 71% in 2022, according to Pew Research. Attitudes toward hate speech The Future of Free Speech study found that younger Americans are especially hesitant to defend speech that offends minority groups. Only 47% of those ages 18 to 34 said such speech should be allowed, compared with 70% of those over 55. Similarly, tolerance for religiously offensive speech was 57% among younger respondents, down from 71% in 2021. This concern over harmful or bigoted speech is not new. A 2015 Pew survey found that 40% of millennials believed the government should be able to prevent offensive speech about minorities. More recently, a 2024 report by the nonpartisan free speech advocacy group FIRE found that 70% of U.S. college students supported disinviting speakers perceived as bigoted. Over a quarter said violence could be acceptable to stop campus speech in some cases. Broader implications Why does this matter? The First Amendment protects unpopular speech. It does not just shield offensive ideas, but it safeguards movements that once seemed fringe. Whether it's civil rights, LGBTQ+ rights or anti-war protests, history shows that ideas seen as dangerous or radical in one era often become widely accepted in another. Today's younger Americans will soon shape policies in universities, media, government, tech and the public square. If a growing share believes speech should be regulated to prevent offense, that could signal a shift in how free speech is interpreted and enforced in American institutions. To be sure, support for free speech in principle remains strong. The Future of Free Speech report found that 89% of Americans said people should be allowed to criticize government policy. But tolerance for more provocative or offensive speech appears to be eroding, especially among young people. This raises questions about whether these changes reflect a life-stage effect -- will today's young people become more speech-tolerant as they age? Or are we seeing a deeper generational shift? The data suggests Americans across all generations still value free speech. But for younger Americans, especially, that support seems increasingly conditional. Jacob Mchangama is a research professor of political science and executive director of The Future of Free Speech at Vanderbilt University. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. The views and opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of the author.
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
From defenders to skeptics: The sharp decline in young Americans' support for free speech
For much of the 20th century, young Americans were seen as free speech's fiercest defenders. But now, young Americans are growing more skeptical of free speech. According to a March 2025 report by The Future of Free Speech, a nonpartisan think tank where I am executive director, support among 18- to 34-year-olds for allowing controversial or offensive speech has dropped sharply in recent years. In 2021, 71% of young Americans said people should be allowed to insult the U.S. flag, which is a key indicator of support for free speech, no matter how distasteful. By 2024, that number had fallen to just 43% – a 28-point drop. Support for pro‑LGBTQ+ speech declined by 20 percentage points, and tolerance for speech that offends religious beliefs fell by 14 points. This drop contributed to the U.S. having the third-largest decline in free speech support among the 33 countries that The Future of Free Speech surveyed – behind only Japan and Israel. Why has this support diminished so dramatically? In the 1960s, college students led what was called the free speech movement, demanding the right to speak freely about political matters on campus, often clashing with older, more censorious generations. Sociologist Jean Twenge has tracked changes in attitudes using data from the General Social Survey, a biennial survey conducted by the University of Chicago's National Opinion Research Center. Since the 1970s, this survey has asked Americans whether controversial figures – racists, communists and anti-religionists – should be allowed to speak. Support for such rights generally increased from the Greatest Generation, born between 1900-1924, to Gen X, born between 1965-1979. But Gen Z, those born between 1995-2004, has reversed that trend. Despite the fact that the Cold War, which pitted the communist Soviet Union and its allies against the democratic West, ended more than three decades ago, even support for the free speech rights of communists has declined. At the same time, some data suggests that young Americans may be drifting rightward politically. A Harvard Institute of Politics poll in late 2024 found that men ages 18–24 now identify as slightly more conservative than those ages 25–29. Another Gallup survey showed that Gen Z teens are twice as likely as millennials to describe themselves as more conservative than their parents were at the same age. This shift may help explain changes in speech attitudes. Today's young Americans may be less likely to instinctively defend speech aligned with liberal or progressive causes. For example, support among 18- to 29-year-olds for same-sex marriage, generally considered a liberal or progressive cause, fell from 79% in 2018 to 71% in 2022, according to Pew Research. The Future of Free Speech study found that younger Americans are especially hesitant to defend speech that offends minority groups. Only 47% of those ages 18 to 34 said such speech should be allowed, compared with 70% of those over 55. Similarly, tolerance for religiously offensive speech was 57% among younger respondents, down from 71% in 2021. This concern over harmful or bigoted speech is not new. A 2015 Pew survey found that 40% of millennials believed the government should be able to prevent offensive speech about minorities. More recently, a 2024 report by the nonpartisan free speech advocacy group FIRE found that 70% of U.S. college students supported disinviting speakers perceived as bigoted. Over a quarter said violence could be acceptable to stop campus speech in some cases. Why does this matter? The First Amendment protects unpopular speech. It does not just shield offensive ideas, but it safeguards movements that once seemed fringe. Whether it's civil rights, LGBTQ+ rights or anti-war protests, history shows that ideas seen as dangerous or radical in one era often become widely accepted in another. Today's younger Americans will soon shape policies in universities, media, government, tech and the public square. If a growing share believes speech should be regulated to prevent offense, that could signal a shift in how free speech is interpreted and enforced in American institutions. To be sure, support for free speech in principle remains strong. The Future of Free Speech report found that 89% of Americans said people should be allowed to criticize government policy. But tolerance for more provocative or offensive speech appears to be eroding, especially among young people. This raises questions about whether these changes reflect a life-stage effect − will today's young people become more speech-tolerant as they age? Or are we seeing a deeper generational shift? The data suggests Americans across all generations still value free speech. But for younger Americans, especially, that support seems increasingly conditional. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Jacob Mchangama, Vanderbilt University Read more: Americans love free speech, survey finds − until they realize everyone else has it, too Trump's aggressive actions against free speech speak a lot louder than his words defending it What the First Amendment really says – 4 basic principles of free speech in the US Jacob Mchangama receives funding from The John Templeton Foundation. He is affiliated with the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression.
Yahoo
08-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Even with Pope Leo XIV in place, US Catholics stand ‘at a crossroads'
Shortly after 6 P.M. in Rome, the longed-for sight appeared above the Sistine Chapel: white smoke. Over the course of a day and a half, the more than 130 members of the College of Cardinals had come to a decision on who should lead the world's 1.4 billion Catholics. On May 8, 2025, they elected Cardinal Robert Prevost, who chose the name Leo XIV – becoming the first pope from the United States. The Conversation U.S. asked Maureen Day, a researcher at the University of Southern California who has written several books about the contemporary church, to explain what Catholicism looks like in the U.S. at this high-stakes moment. How is Catholic identity and practice in the U.S. changing, compared with a generation ago? In 1987, the year of the first American Catholic Laity survey, nearly half of American Catholics said that faith was 'the most' or 'among the most' important parts of their life. Now, only 37% say the same. Others are leaving the Catholic Church completely. The General Social Survey, a national survey conducted every year or two since the 1970s, asks people about the faith they grew up with, as well as their present religious identity. According to our analysis of its data, in 1973 only 10% of Americans who grew up Catholic had changed religions, and another 7% had left religion altogether. By 2018, each of those percentages had increased to 18%. A Pew Research Center study conducted in 2024 found that for every American who converts to Catholicism, another 8.4 leave. The only reason that Catholicism is able to maintain a relatively steady share of the U.S. population – about 20% – is due to the high percentage of immigrants and migrants who are Catholic. So my co-authors and I chose the title of our 2025 book, 'Catholicism at a Crossroads,' quite intentionally. The church has been facing a variety of challenges for decades, both nationally and across the globe. It's not just about disaffiliation, but also issues such as the sexual abuse crises and bishops' decreasing influence on lay Catholics' personal decisions. In response, church leaders have mostly offered minor adjustments, such as encouraging parishes to become more family- or young adult-friendly. They have not yet made larger shifts that could substantially alter some of those trend lines. Some of your work focuses on what you call 'cultural Catholics' − defined as Catholics who attend Mass less than once per month. How would you describe cultural Catholicism in the U.S. today? A big concern of Catholic leaders right now is decreasing Mass attendance, as weekly Mass is an important precept of the Catholic Church. Sunday Mass is a place for Catholics to participate in the sacraments, strengthen their faith and build relationships with other Catholics. One of the things Catholic leaders tend to attribute this drop in attendance to is a broader trend of secularism. There might be some merit to this, but it can't be the whole story. In our analysis of General Social Survey data, for example, the percentage of Protestant Christians who say they attend worship services weekly was 35% in 1950 and 40% in 2023. Among Catholics, however, weekly Mass attendance has declined from 63% to 30% in these same years. 'Cultural Catholics' who say they attend Mass 'a few times a year' or 'seldom or never' account for 53% of U.S. Catholics. Many of them demonstrate strong ties to Catholic teachings in other ways. For example, around 70% to 80% of cultural Catholics say that it is 'essential' or 'somewhat essential' to Catholicism to help the poor, have a devotion to Mary and practice daily prayer. There are findings that can lend themselves to either a 'glass half empty' or 'glass half full' interpretation. For instance, it might be heartening to Catholic leaders to know that 62% of cultural Catholics say it is important that future generations of their family are Catholic – although this is much lower than the 89% among those who attend Mass frequently. And when these cultural Catholics imagine future generations of their family being Catholic, what does that mean? Perhaps it entails simply a few milestones, like receiving baptism, First Communion and possibly Confirmation – the three sacraments that initiate a person into the Catholic faith. The way many cultural Catholics are loosely tethered to the church, without much involvement in parish life, is a great concern for many Catholic leaders. What main challenges do you see for the American church under the next pope? I would argue that the American church's biggest challenge is how to heal the factionalism within itself. On the one hand, there is a great deal of common ground among the most active Catholics, even with the diversity still found here. According to our analysis, 20% of Catholics are 'high commitment': those who say they attend Mass weekly, are unlikely to leave the faith, and that the church is very important to them. These Catholics are more likely to depart from their political party's position on an issue if it does not align with Catholic teachings. For example, high-commitment Catholic Republicans are much more likely to support the bishops' position on making the immigration process easier for families. High-commitment Catholic Democrats, meanwhile, are more likely to be against abortion than are their moderate- or low-commitment counterparts. In other words, these high-commitment Catholics tend to be less polarized and could find common cause with one another. However, there are more extreme pockets – such as those who called into question the legitimacy of Francis' papacy – that are more militant about their vision of Catholicism. While these Catholics are few in number, they are very vocal. There are fringe groups that mobilized to try to change the direction of the Catholic Church after Francis' papacy, which they saw as a series of liberal reforms. Within more mainstream Catholicism, there are divides over styles of worship, with media attention on some young Americans flocking to more conservative or traditional parishes. However, sociologist Tim Clydesdale and religion scholar Kathleen Garces-Foley found that young adult Catholics are split: While some are attracted to churches with pastors who demonstrate 'orthodoxy,' a similar number prefer 'openness.' What do you wish more people understood about Catholicism in the U.S.? I think the 'missing piece' for many is the incredible diversity of U.S. Catholicism, from race and ethnicity to politics and practice. Many Americans tend to associate the religion with one or two issues, such as abortion and same-sex marriage, and assume that Catholics are fairly monolithic, both in their demographics and their politics. Catholics themselves can also forget – or never learn – that their small slice of Catholicism is not the whole of Catholicism. Recognizing and elevating what unites this vast family of Catholics, both personally and collectively, is going to be critical as the church moves forward. This article was updated on May 8, 2025 to include Pope Leo XIV's election. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Maureen K. Day, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences Read more: Francis, a pope of many firsts: 5 essential reads The Catholic Church is increasingly diverse – and so are its controversies Vatican synod is opening the door a bit wider for Catholic women − but they've been knocking for more than 100 years The work mentioned in this article was funded largely by the Louisville Institute. Her previous research has received funding from many sources, including the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops.
Yahoo
10-03-2025
- General
- Yahoo
What Happens When Teens Don't Date
Lisa A. Phillips has found herself in a strange position as of late: trying to convince her students that romantic love is worthwhile. They don't believe in overly idealizing partnership or in the clichés fed to them in rom-coms; some have declared that love is a concept created by the media. Phillips, a journalist who teaches a SUNY New Paltz course called 'Love and Heartbreak,' responds that of course relationships aren't all perfect passion, and we should question the tropes we're surrounded by. But also: Those tropes began somewhere. Across cultures, people describe the experience of falling for someone in quite similar ways, 'whether they grew up with a Disney-movie IV in their vein,' she told me, or 'in a remote area with no media whatsoever.' The sensation is big, she tells her students; it's overwhelming; it can feel utterly transcendent. They're skeptical. Maybe if Phillips had been teaching this class a decade ago, her students would already have learned some of this firsthand. Today, though, that's less likely: Research indicates that the number of teens experiencing romantic relationships has dropped. In a 2023 poll from the Survey Center on American Life, 56 percent of Gen Z adults said they'd been in a romantic relationship at any point in their teen years, compared with 76 percent of Gen Xers and 78 percent of Baby Boomers. And the General Social Survey, a long-running poll of about 3,000 Americans, found in 2021 that 54 percent of participants ages 18 to 34 reported not having a 'steady' partner; in 2004, only 33 percent said the same. As I've written, a whole lot of American adults are withdrawing from romance—not just young people. But the trend seems to be especially pronounced for Gen Z, or people born roughly between 1997 and 2012. Of course, you can grow into a perfectly mature and healthy adult without ever having had a romantic relationship; some research even suggests you might be better off that way. In the aggregate, though, this shift could be concerning: a sign, researchers told me, of a generation struggling with vulnerability. A first love, for so many, has been a milestone on the path to adulthood—a challenging, thrilling, world-expanding experience that can help people understand who they are and whom they're looking for. What's lost if that rite of passage disappears? You can experience so much without being in a defined relationship. You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance. You can have a crush so big it takes up all the space in your brain; you can care about someone deeply; you can get hurt—badly. Plenty of young people, then, could be having transformative romantic encounters and still reporting that they've never been in a relationship. It could be the label, not the emotional reality, that's changing, Thao Ha, a developmental psychologist at Arizona State University, told me. She's found that lots of high schoolers report having 'dated' before—a looser term that might better suit the realities of adolescent courtship today. (In a YouGov poll from last year, about 50 percent of respondents aged 18 to 34 said they'd been in a 'situationship,' or undefined relationship.) Some of that activity might not entail exclusivity or regularity, or any promise of long-term commitment. But it could still help young people with what researchers told me are some core rewards of early romantic exploration: gaining autonomy from parents, developing a sense of identity, what Phillips called an 'existential' benefit—the 'sometimes painful, sometimes amazing trial-and-error process of seeking closeness.' Becoming a well-rounded grown-up, in fact, doesn't really require romantic experience of any sort. Adolescence and emerging adulthood are times of uncertainty; what young people need most, Amy Rauer, a human-development professor at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville, told me, is often just a cheerleader: a peer, a grandparent, a coach, or someone else making them feel valued, which can set them up to feel secure in future relationships. Teens can also learn social skills—how to make small talk, resolve arguments, empathize across differences—in all kinds of platonic relationships. [Read: The slow, quiet demise of America romance] Some research, Phillips pointed out, actually suggests that young people might benefit from a lack of romantic activity. One study found that, compared with their dating peers, students who dated very infrequently or not at all over a seven-year period were seen by their teachers as having better leadership and social skills, and reported fewer symptoms of depression. After all, young love isn't always positive. It can be an emotional whirlwind; it can distract from schoolwork, or from friends, or from other interests. In the worst cases, it can be abusive. (Adolescent girls experience intimate-partner violence at particularly high rates.) And when it ends, teens—with little perspective and few learned coping mechanisms—can be absolutely wrecked. Despite how common a lack of relationship experience is now—especially but not only for teens—a lot of people still feel embarrassed by it. TikTok is filled with influencers declaring that they're 26 or 30 or 40 and have never been in a relationship, sharing how insecure that's made them feel; commenters stream in, by the hundreds of thousands, to divulge their own feelings of shame. Many of my friends, who are entering their 30s, constantly stress about this: They fear they won't know how to be a good partner if the opportunity arises. But all of a person's interactions, not just romantic ones, can shape how they'll show up in a relationship. One 2019 study, which followed 165 subjects ages 13 to 30, found that strong friendships in adolescence predicted romantic-life satisfaction in adulthood; early romantic experience, meanwhile, wasn't related to future satisfaction at all. (Teens commonly learn how to fight and make up with friends, Phillips told me, but they might be less likely to stick it out with a lover long enough for conflict resolution.) [Read: The dating-app diversity paradox] Overall, when it comes to who you are in a relationship, what matters most is simply who you are, period. And the traits that make you you are likely to remain fairly stable throughout your life. A 2022 study found, for instance, that subjects who were single during adolescence—but had their first relationship by age 26—reported no lower self-esteem than those who'd started dating earlier. Tita Gonzalez Avilés, a personality psychologist at Germany's Johannes Gutenberg University Mainz who has led some of this research, told me that although people often think their relationships will change them, the influence typically happens the other way around: Who you are shapes what kind of relationship you'll have. Research has even shown that people's satisfaction in a relationship tends to remain pretty consistent across their various partners. Given all that, you might think it a good thing that Gen Z has less going on in the romance department. Perhaps young people are busy with other pursuits, focusing on friendship and school and hobbies; maybe they no longer want to settle for a mediocre partner. The transition to adulthood tends to take longer today, pushing back lots of different milestones—steps such as financial independence, buying a home, and, notably, getting married—sometimes indefinitely. In that sense, young people have an eminently rational reason to hold off on seeking partnership: The deadline is extended. But researchers have pointed to other, more worrisome reasons for the romance dip. Phillips has heard a lot about situationships—and scenarios that aren't even well-defined enough to use that label. For her new book, First Love, she interviewed more than 100 young people and parents, and found, as Ha did, that early romance today tends to reside in a gray area. 'You have a long period of we're talking,' Phillips told me. 'You're kind of dancing around the idea of a sexual-romantic connection, maybe even having some of those experiences, but not really talking about what it is.' For some, the lack of strict relationship expectations can be freeing. But many, Phillips told me, find the ambiguity distressing, because they don't know what they have the right to feel—or the right to ask for. Some recounted how they ended up feeling invested in a fling—and described it not only as bad news, but as a personal failure: They said that they 'got caught' (as if red-handed), 'caught feelings' (like an illness), or succumbed to 'dumb-bitch hour' (when late at night, defenses down, they texted a crush and—God forbid—let themselves feel close to someone). 'Young people would be hard on themselves,' Phillips told me, 'because they would think, Okay, this person let me know this wasn't going to be a thing. And then my heart let it be a thing.' The young-love recession, in other words, might reflect a real shift in how comfortable Americans are, on the whole, with emotional intimacy. Generational researchers have described Gen Z as a cohort particularly concerned with security, averse to risk, and slow to trust—so it makes sense that a lot of teens today might be hesitant to throw themselves into a relationship, or even just to admit they care whether their dalliance will continue next week. In a 2023 Hinge survey of Gen Z daters, 90 percent of participants said they wanted to find love—but 56 percent said that fear of rejection had kept them from pursuing a potential relationship, and 57 percent said they'd refrained from confessing their feelings about someone because they worried it would 'be a turn-off.' Those reservations can create a self-fulfilling prophecy, Phillips said, in which young people keep a romantic prospect at arm's length—and then, when they feel confused or get hurt anyway, they become even more wary of relationships. 'Why would I want to go any further in this world,' she said many wonder, 'when I had this flirtation that seemed to be very close and very promising and went nowhere?' [Read: The people who quit dating] I heard something similar from Daniel A. Cox, the director of the Survey Center on American Life: People still badly want connection, but among Gen Z, 'there's a real sense of anxiety about how to go about it.' That social nervousness affects platonic and romantic relationships alike; he's found, in fact, that people who spend more time with friends are also more likely to have dated regularly during their teen years. 'Trying to forge romantic connections and be vulnerable—it's really difficult,' he said, 'when you're constantly worried about being hurt or being taken advantage of.' Some of that self-protective instinct has probably trickled down from older generations, especially when it comes to dynamics in heterosexual relationships. As Cox has found while reporting a forthcoming book on the gender divide, men and women seem to be growing ever further apart. Young men are shifting rightward, and many are feeling misunderstood. Women, meanwhile, have become more suspicious of men. Fear of sexual assault has increased significantly in recent years, and so has concern about dating-app safety. If so many grown women are feeling vigilant, imagine how girls and younger women feel: at a vulnerable age, still learning about the world and already surrounded by the message—and, in plenty of cases, the reality—that boys and men are dangerous. Imagine, too, how some boys and young men feel: just figuring out who they are and already getting the message that they're not trusted. Perhaps it's not surprising that people are trying to control their romantic feelings, whether by focusing on friendships or by keeping situationships allegedly emotion-free. Even under conditions of a gender cold war, many girls might get on fine—but boys could suffer more. When psychologists told me that young people can flourish in the absence of romance, that was assuming they have close friends to rely on and to teach them social graces (including one as simple as making conversation). Boys and young men, who aren't as likely to have such tight bonds, tend to learn those skills from women. Maybe they have a sister or a mother or female friends who can help with that—but if not, Cox told me, being single might put them at a real emotional and developmental disadvantage. That might make them less prepared to date. [Read: The golden age of dating doesn't exist] A rise in skepticism toward romance is a loss, not just for boys but for society as a whole. Romantic love isn't better or more important than platonic love, but it's different—and telling yourself you have no need for it doesn't necessarily make it true. Phillips talked to her students about an excerpt of Plato's Symposium, in which—at the beginning of time—Zeus splits each human in two in order to foil their plan to overthrow the gods. From then on, everyone wanders around yearning for their other half. Falling in love, according to the story, is when you finally find it. Alas: Her students hated the story. They didn't like the idea of only one other person being meant for each of us, or the suggestion that they'd be incomplete without such a reunion. They told her they wanted to be whole all by themselves—not dependent on a soulmate. They had a point. And yet, Phillips still felt there was something sad about their reaction. They didn't seem to understand that 'relationships are an interpersonal exchange,' she said: that 'they involve both feeling expanded by someone else and then some genuine sacrifices.' You are at least a little dependent on someone in a relationship; that's what the symbiosis of love requires. It's scary—but it can be interesting, and beautiful when it's good, and sometimes formative even when it doesn't stay good. You might want to find out for yourself. When you buy a book using a link on this page, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic. Article originally published at The Atlantic
