Let 16-Year-Olds Vote? Oh, Why Not Let Them Run the Place While We’re at It

Well done, England. In the latest act of national self-sabotage masquerading as progress, it seems the voting age will be lowered to 16, because if there’s one thing this exhausted, incoherent era needs, it’s more opinions from people who still require parental permission to go on the school ski trip.

Of course, this will be breathlessly framed by the usual suspects as a “triumph for democracy” — as if the whole point of democracy is just handing out votes like party favours at a Year 10 formal. And yes, expect endless pious commentary about how this will “engage young people” and “make them feel heard”. Never mind that these same young people were recently judged too emotionally fragile to cope with competitive sport, exams without “special consideration”, or a teacher using the wrong pronoun.

Too Young to Fight a War, But Old Enough to Start One? Sure, That Tracks.

Let’s be clear: 16-year-olds aren’t allowed to join the army and fight in a war. Not because the government is mean, but because they are — rightly — deemed too immature to carry a rifle, too emotionally vulnerable to cope with combat, and frankly, too busy worrying about who fancies them in fourth period maths. And yet, in this latest feat of legislative genius, we are now expected to believe they are perfectly equipped to help elect the government that could start that war. Marvellous.

You can’t serve on the frontline, but you can help decide whether we send other people’s children to it. That’s the sort of ironclad logic that only passes for wisdom in modern politics.

The Teenage Brain Is Not Exactly Westminster-Ready

Neuroscientists — killjoys that they are — will tell you the human brain doesn’t finish developing until about 25, particularly the bit responsible for decision-making and impulse control. This is why teenagers do things like lick frozen poles and think it’s a laugh. But sure, let’s put them in charge of deciding national tax policy.

Have you seen a 16-year-old’s internet history? Have you observed their attention span when not tethered to a phone? Have you tried explaining to them how a mortgage works? We’re not talking about future policy wonks here; we’re talking about people whose chief experience of governance is having their phone confiscated for vaping in the school toilets.

No Skin in the Game, But Why Should That Stop Them?

The entire premise of democratic responsibility used to be linked — however loosely — to having something at stake. You worked, you paid taxes, you contributed. You had some skin in the game. Sixteen-year-olds have no skin anywhere near the game. Most of them don’t pay tax. Most still live at home, being funded by adults. Yet we’re handing them the power to vote on pensions, energy security, national debt and industrial relations.

They’ll vote on policies that won’t meaningfully touch them for another decade while the rest of us are left to deal with the consequences of their adolescent idealism and TikTok-informed worldviews.

There’s Already a Youth Vote — It’s Called 18-Year-Olds

The argument that young people need a “voice” ignores the obvious: they already get one at 18. If your political maturity cannot wait two more years, that’s not society’s problem. Eighteen is already a generous concession in many respects; historically, voting was tied to property ownership or service precisely because those things signified responsibility. Now we’re expected to believe we should let people too young to legally drive alone at night determine national outcomes?

Politics Is Already Childish. Why Add Actual Children?

If you thought modern politics couldn’t get any more juvenile, strap in. We already live in a world where politicians obsess over Twitter, policies are designed around hashtags, and Prime Ministers behave like reality TV contestants. So perhaps it’s fitting that we now invite actual teenagers to the party.

Expect manifestos carefully crafted to woo this vital new constituency: more free stuff, more moral absolutism, more performative outrage. Climate strikes, identity politics, feelings over facts — it’s a teenage dream. And the grown-ups? They’ll be reduced to pandering to this demographic for fear of losing elections to whoever promises free Wi-Fi and a ban on homework.

England’s Example: Progress or Pathetic?

England’s decision isn’t some beacon of progress. It’s the latest symptom of a civilisation so terrified of upsetting anyone that it now elevates adolescent self-expression above adult responsibility. Voting is not therapy. It’s not there to make you “feel heard”. It’s there to make serious decisions about war, peace, taxation, and government.

England’s descent into this farce will soon infect others. Australia won’t be far behind. Nor will New Zealand, or Canada, or anywhere else desperate to look progressive on the world stage, no matter how ludicrous the policy.

Conclusion: Voting Is for Adults. Grow Up.

Voting is about adult decisions with adult consequences. If you can’t buy a beer, sign a contract, or be trusted to drive a car after dark, you have no business helping elect governments. Sixteen-year-olds are not adults. They’re children in transition — which is fine. But we don’t hand children the keys to the nuclear codes, and we shouldn’t hand them ballot papers either.

Democracy doesn’t need more voices; it needs better judgement. And better judgement rarely comes from people who still list “Snapchat streaks” under their life priorities.

If you want to fix democracy, stop infantilising it. Start raising the standard, not the volume.