Protest doesn’t fail because young people don’t care – it “fails” because we only celebrate visible change, not organisation, urgency and solidarity that makes it possible.
Young people don’t do enough.
At least, that’s the story we’ve been told. We’re lazy. We’re loud. We’re too young to understand; too old to act that way.
And when it comes to politics, we’re too naïve, too “woke”, too detached from reality.
Student protests, we’re reminded, from campaigns for LGBTQ+ rights to opposition against war are accused of offering passion without substance.
It’s almost a generational cycle; those who came of age in the shadow of 9/11 and the Cold War are often dismissed with the same refrain: that we haven’t done enough. For as long as political movements have driven change, older generations have accused the next of not understanding a “real day’s work” — that life today is somehow “too easy”.
But what is often ignored, is if history keeps repeating, and youth led protests are continuing, the outcome is yet to change. And, contrary to the familiar caricature, many of us do care — deeply — about the world we are set to inherit.
Globally, the unprecedented nature of politics has been as constant as the rain in Glasgow. But unlike the rain — where an umbrella or a coat offers easy shelter and you can simply avoid it by not going out — modern protest movements are not only increasing, but are increasingly unpredictable, frustrated, and polarised.
Student activism at the University of Glasgow reflects that reality. The campaign to divest from arms is one of the most significant recent examples. It is well documented that the university holds at least £6.8million in funds rooted from arms. It also continues to participate in UK defence research. Last year, in an attempt to gauge student opinion, the SRC held a mock referendum on whether it should support divestment. In a record turnout, 89.3% of students voted in favour. Yet despite overwhelming consensus, the university has not divested.
Since then, protests have escalated: sit-ins, the replacement of corporate chains on campus (both Starbucks now franchised as a coffeehouse and G12), hunger strikes, even the painting of certain university buildings red.
But as Noam Chomsky reminds us, “Universities are meant to challenge power, not reproduce it.” If that’s true, then student protest is not a problem — it’s the institution working as it should.
The question often asked is why students feel the need to protest so radically. Why risk prosecution? Why campaign for policies that may never become law?
At a time when the UK government is complicit in genocide, accountability through protest hangs in the balance and when globally LGBTQ+, migrant and women’s rights are becoming a polarising tool to split the political consensus, perhaps it is a risk worth taking.
Or, perhaps it is because we are naïve. Perhaps it is because we still have the privilege — and optimism — of youth. But why should that render our anger, or our hope, any less valid?
More importantly, student activism is not always radical, it’s not always frustrated, and it’s not properly reported. Reporting rarely reflects the scale of organisation, planning and the online conviction that drives these campaigns. It highlights arrests, deviancy, anger – but never community, peace or the ongoing process. It is not the effort that is judged, but the perceived success.
A recent study conducted in 2023 found that societies with a higher proportion of students consistently experience more non-violent protest activity. Another survey revealed that 18–34-year-olds in Scotland rank sustainability and the environment (66%), inequality of opportunity (63%), and health and wellbeing (59%) as their top societal concerns. This suggests that Scottish students are not apathetic — they are acutely aware of the challenges ahead and are willing to engage with them in meaningful ways.
Over the summer, I contributed to an academic article for The UK Times, discussing the evolving role of young people in protest movements. During that interview, I emphasised the growing significance of social media in activism. From reposts to awareness-raising, digital platforms are not a distraction from activism — they are now a central part of it. It is no longer the case that you must be politically literate, or able to speak insider lingo to engage with action. Unlike previous generations, (and thanks to online activity) our activism is networked, immediate, and public.
Statistics back this up; around 42% of young Europeans (aged 16–30) rely on social media for news about politics and social issues. Another study found that roughly 43.3% of 18–29-year-olds actively share news online. These figures reflect a fundamental shift: activism is no longer confined to the streets; it now thrives on feeds, and story shares. From small reposts on social media to sit-in protests on campus, this generation is doing something — you just don’t always see it.
Therefore the way we talk about protest — particularly student protest — needs to change. Reporting requires more nuance, research, and time. Activism doesn’t begin and end with a march or a banner; it is built long before the first placard is raised and continues long after the last chant fades. Perhaps it is because I am a young person that I see this differently. I can stand on the picket lines, sit in the lecture halls, scroll through the hashtags, and see activism as it truly is; layered, complicated, chaotic — but always with purpose.
Scarlet Morrison [she/her]
qmunicatemagazine.co.uk 