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Key Highlights
Millions of young people in Britain face the consequences of political decisions but cannot vote. Evidence from Scotland and Wales shows that 16- and 17-year-olds can participate responsibly when supported by civic education. The debate raises a fundamental question: should those affected by policy have a say in shaping it?
Across Britain, young people are navigating a political landscape that they have little formal power to shape. They face spiralling housing costs, an increasingly unstable climate, rising student debt, and public services weakened by years of austerity. Many of them entered adolescence during a pandemic that disrupted education and exacerbated inequality. Yet, despite being directly affected by nearly every major policy debate, millions of Britain’s young people are excluded from the ballot box.
The question of whether the UK should lower the voting age to 16 resurfaces every few years. But this time, the context feels different. The political participation of teenagers and young adults has evolved sharply. They are increasingly active in digital spaces, organising climate strikes, supporting labour actions, and building online political communities that bypass traditional party structures. Their activism is often decentralised and rapid, driven more by issues than ideology. Their engagement is indisputable, yet their ability to translate it into electoral power remains blocked.
Scotland and Wales have already lowered the voting age for local and devolved elections, creating a natural experiment within the UK itself. Early data from these nations suggests that turnout among newly enfranchised 16- and 17-year-olds can be strong, particularly when supported by civic education or when elections focus on issues that feel immediately relevant to young lives. Research by the School of Social and Political Science at the University of Edinburgh has found that 16 and 17-year-olds have voted in higher proportions than older first-time voters and have maintained higher turnout into their early twenties.

Callum Fraser, 21, a politics student at the University of Edinburgh, voted for the first time at 16 in Scotland and says he felt prepared because politics was already part of everyday life. “The independence referendum and later elections were everywhere, at school, online, at home,” he says, adding that teachers took time to explain how the process of voting worked and why it mattered. Voting early, he argues, changed how he engaged with politics: “Once you’ve voted once, you start paying more attention. You feel more accountable for your views.” At the same time, Fraser is clear that readiness is not universal. “Not everyone is at the same place at 16,” he says, pointing to uneven access to political education and confidence. For him, the lesson is that “the focus shouldn’t just be on age, but on preparation,” and that treating young people as participants rather than a risk can make democratic engagement feel like a responsibility rather than an obligation.
Concerns about political maturity are often central to opposition to lowering the voting age. Yet recent research complicates that assumption. A 2025 peer-reviewed study examining political reasoning among adolescents found that their ability to understand political choices, weigh competing arguments and make decisions consistent with their values was broadly comparable to that of adults. The findings suggest that age alone is a poor proxy for democratic competence, and that factors such as education, access to information and political context play a far greater role in shaping how people vote, regardless of whether they are 16 or 60.
The argument often hinges on readiness, but the threshold for political competence is already uneven. Many adults vote with limited policy knowledge, minimal engagement, or misinformation. Meanwhile, many 16-year-olds are in structured settings, schools, colleges, youth programmes, where political education can, at least in theory, be supported more reliably than among older demographics. The question becomes not whether teenagers are uniquely unprepared, but whether they are being held to a standard that adults themselves do not meet.
Some of the strongest arguments for lowering the voting age come from considering the responsibilities young people are already expected to shoulder. At 16, many are working part-time, paying taxes, and contributing economically while holding no say in how public revenue is spent. Others are apprentices, young carers, or care leavers managing adult responsibilities long before their eighteenth birthday. In many parts of the country, citizenship education is patchy, under-resourced, or absent altogether, a structural issue that punishes young people but could be addressed if the political system viewed them as full participants rather than future ones.
Sarah Steward, Programme Coordinator at Young Citizens UK, emphasises that young people are already engaging with politics in meaningful ways. “Through schools, youth councils, campaigns, and social media, many 16- and 17-year-olds are debating issues and following how government decisions affect their lives,” she says. Granting them the vote, she argues, would recognise this participation and help it grow. Steward stresses the importance of structured support: “Readiness isn’t just about age; it’s about access to information and opportunities to develop civic skills. If the voting age is lowered, we need a coordinated effort to ensure every young person has the tools to make an informed choice.” Without adequate civic education and mentoring, she warns, young voters risk disengagement, but with proper guidance, they can participate confidently and responsibly.
Opponents raise genuine concerns. Lowering the voting age requires investment in political education that successive governments have repeatedly sidelined. Digital misinformation poses risks for all voters, but particularly for those whose media literacy varies widely depending on region, school funding, and class. There is also the question of turnout: if 16–17-year-olds vote in low numbers, critics will claim it proves the experiment a failure.
A 2025 poll conducted by the University of Glasgow found that many 16- and 17-year-olds do not feel confident navigating politics or casting a vote. While they are keen to have a say in decisions that affect their lives, the research suggests that enthusiasm alone is not enough. Respondents emphasised the need for stronger citizenship and democracy education, warning that lowering the voting age without adequate support could leave young voters underprepared. The findings highlight a wider structural challenge: ensuring that legal enfranchisement is matched by accessible, consistent, and practical political education that equips young people to participate fully in the democratic process.
But these challenges do not negate a central democratic principle: those who are affected by political decisions should have a voice in making them. When a generation is facing the long-term consequences of climate policy, economic reforms, and public spending decisions, excluding them becomes harder to justify. Lowering the voting age would not solve Britain’s democratic malaise on its own, but it would acknowledge the political reality that young people are already participating, just not through the mechanisms the state recognises.
Emma Thompson, 19, a Politics and International Affairs student at King’s College London, believes lowering the voting age to 16 is long overdue. “By 16, you’re already making important decisions about your future, your education, work, even finances. It seems strange to have responsibilities but no formal say in the system that governs you,” she says. She adds that social media and news apps give teenagers access to real-time political information, allowing them to debate issues and make informed choices. While schools still need to teach political literacy beyond exams, Thompson notes that many young people are already engaged, following news, volunteering, and campaigning on issues that matter to them. Formal voting rights, she argues, would recognise the participation that is already happening.
The debate ultimately reflects a broader tension in modern democracies: whether political power should expand to match social and technological change, or whether the franchise should remain fixed even as the world shifts around it. Britain today has a generation of young people who are politically active, digitally fluent, and materially affected by every national policy decision. Whether the voting age changes or not, the political system will have to reckon with them.
Lowering the voting age to 16 is, at its core, a question about legitimacy. Does a democracy strengthen itself by broadening participation, or risk weakening itself by holding firm to an arbitrary line? As long as young people continue to organise, mobilise, and express political agency outside the traditional structures, the pressure to answer that question will only grow.