One of the assumptions that concerns me most when discussing the growing number of young people who are not in education, employment or training is the subtle belief that the trend is somehow inevitable. When a problem becomes large enough, visible enough and persistent enough, there is a tendency to begin treating it as a fact of life rather than as a signal that something deeper requires our attention. Rising anxiety among young people, increasing levels of social isolation, growing demand for mental health services and the expanding number of young people struggling to engage with education and employment can gradually come to feel like unavoidable consequences of modern society rather than symptoms of conditions that can be changed.
Yet history repeatedly demonstrates that societies are capable of extraordinary transformation when they understand the roots of a problem and commit themselves to addressing them. The most significant public health improvements of the past century did not occur because people became stronger or more resilient overnight. They occurred because we developed a deeper understanding of the factors that influence human behaviour and wellbeing, and because we were willing to act on that understanding. Smoking rates declined because culture changed. Road deaths reduced because systems changed. Entire communities have transformed outcomes around addiction, violence and health because they recognised that prevention is often more powerful than intervention after harm has occurred.
This perspective feels particularly relevant when considering the findings of Alan Milburn’s report. The discussion surrounding young people who are outside education, employment and training often centres on what happens after disengagement has already occurred. We focus on qualifications, employability, training pathways and economic participation. While these conversations are important, they can sometimes draw attention away from the developmental journey that precedes them. By the time a young person reaches the point of disengagement, there has often been a long period during which confidence has eroded, stress has accumulated and the gap between external expectations and internal capacity has gradually widened.
When I speak with teachers, youth workers, healthcare professionals and parents, I rarely encounter people who are surprised by the difficulties a young person is experiencing once they become formally disconnected from education or employment. More often, I hear stories of warning signs that were visible years earlier. There may have been anxiety that steadily intensified throughout adolescence, a growing reluctance to attend school, increasing social withdrawal, difficulties regulating emotions, poor sleep, low self-esteem or a pervasive sense of overwhelm. These experiences do not appear suddenly at the age of eighteen. They emerge gradually and often remain insufficiently addressed because the systems surrounding young people are stretched, fragmented and largely designed to respond once difficulties become acute.
This raises an important question about how we think about readiness. Readiness is frequently discussed in terms of qualifications, technical knowledge and employability skills, yet these qualities rest upon a deeper foundation. A young person who struggles to manage stress, who feels disconnected from themselves and others, or who has lost confidence in their ability to navigate challenge will find it difficult to make use of even the best educational and employment opportunities. Conversely, a young person who has developed emotional awareness, resilience, self-regulation and a sense of agency possesses capacities that support success across every area of life. The distinction matters because it suggests that the conversation about economic participation cannot be separated from the conversation about human development.
Perhaps the most hopeful aspect of this perspective is that the capacities underpinning wellbeing are not fixed traits that some people possess and others lack. Emotional literacy can be developed. Self-awareness can be cultivated. Resilience can grow through experience and support. The ability to regulate emotions, navigate relationships and maintain a sense of purpose can be strengthened over time. These are skills that can be taught, practised and embedded within communities, schools and healthcare systems when there is sufficient commitment to doing so.
The challenge facing the United Kingdom is therefore not simply one of repairing damage after it has occurred. It is one of creating environments that enable young people to flourish before serious difficulties take root. This requires a shift in perspective from asking how we respond to crises towards asking how we cultivate the conditions that make crises less likely to occur. It requires us to view emotional wellbeing, belonging and self-regulation as fundamental developmental needs rather than optional additions to an already crowded curriculum. Most importantly, it requires us to recognise that investment in the inner lives of young people is not a luxury but a necessity if we are serious about creating a healthier and more prosperous future.
What encourages me is that history suggests this kind of change is entirely possible. Every significant social transformation begins with a collective decision to see a problem differently. Once enough people recognise that what appears inevitable is actually the product of choices, priorities and environments, the possibility of change begins to emerge. The rise in young people who feel disconnected from education, employment and society is not evidence of a generation that lacks potential. It is evidence that too many young people are navigating extraordinary challenges without sufficient support. If we have the courage to address those challenges earlier, more compassionately and more intelligently, there is every reason to believe that the trends causing such concern today can become the success stories of tomorrow.