Colman Noctor: Our casual discrimination against teens has real consequences

Many of us unwittingly discriminate against teenagers, regarding them as immature, antisocial, or unreliable, and this can have a profound impact on how they view themselves and their place in the world

Most teenagers do not cause trouble. They are navigating a complicated world, trying to find a place where they are welcomed and belong.

A recent ESRI study found 76% of 17-year-olds in Ireland experience regular discrimination. Unfair treatment of teenagers is often based on stereotypes, such as the idea they are immature, antisocial, or unreliable. While some teens may behave that way, applying these labels to all teens is unfair.

If three out of every four adults reported routinely feeling disrespected, dismissed, or treated with suspicion, we would likely call it a societal crisis. However, when it happens to adolescents, we tend to normalise, ignore, or justify it.

The ESRI findings should not be dismissed as evidence of Gen Z whining harmlessly about their lives; they are a record of experiences that are shaping how young people feel about themselves and their place in the world.

The research, drawn from the reputable Growing Up in Ireland longitudinal study, shows perceived discrimination has very real consequences, including lower life satisfaction, poorer self-esteem and general health, higher rates of depression, and an increased likelihood of alcohol use.

The findings shouldn’t surprise us. Many people unwittingly discriminate against teenagers, and I have fallen into this trap myself. 

Just recently, I had one of those small but telling moments. I was walking down the street when I noticed three teenage boys ahead of me. They had their hoodies up and were leaning on their e-scooters. They weren’t loud or overly energetic, just quietly scrolling on their phones, yet I felt it. That tiny wave of anxiety. 

Without even thinking, my hand moved, almost automatically, to check my phone and wallet. A sudden tension crept into my body, as if I were preparing for something, based on a quick assumption that I needed to stay alert.

Of course, nothing happened. Two didn’t notice me as they were immersed in their phones, and the third gave me a nod that was bordering on friendly. But I was left with an uncomfortable awareness: that reaction didn’t come from evidence in that moment. It came from a learned response and an ingrained judgement.

That’s how discrimination often operates, not as a conscious decision but as a reflex we rarely question.

And if I, someone who spends a lot of time talking to, thinking about, and advocating for teenagers, can slip into that mindset so easily, it raises a more uncomfortable question: what are adolescents encountering every day from others who might be far less sympathetic?

Pattern of discrimination

Talk to teenagers, and you’ll hear a consistent message: “There’s nowhere to go”. If a group of adults is standing around chatting, they are socialising. But for a group of teenagers, doing the same thing is often perceived as loitering.

I was reminded of a closer-to-home example when my teenage son was asked to leave a clothes shop last year because he was browsing while holding a smoothie. His sister and I were at the other end of the store and noticed one adult was precariously balancing iced coffees while holding a phone and a handbag, and another was eating a large cream bun. But there was no request to finish their food and drinks outside.

My son was upset because he knew the different treatment he received wasn’t due to his behaviour but to his age.

It would be easy to dismiss this as a one-off, a minor incident, but when set alongside another ESRI finding that more than six in 10 17-year-olds who experience discrimination believe it is due to their age, it begins to look less like an exception and more like a pattern.

We also need to acknowledge the challenges young people have experienced in recent years. During the covid-19 pandemic, adolescents and children were often framed, sometimes explicitly, as vectors of disease. Their socialising was portrayed as risky, and their gatherings as irresponsible. 

While public health messaging had its reasons, the psychological impact shouldn’t be underestimated. Adolescence is a period when identity is forming, so the way society sees them becomes internalised. The message many young people absorbed during this time was simple: you are a risk and a problem.

I talk a lot about loneliness among young people, often in the context of screens and social media. But if they feel unwelcome in public spaces, socialising online becomes a viable alternative. 

If you are repeatedly treated as a potential threat, you are more likely to withdraw. If gathering in groups attracts attention or intervention, the online world becomes one of the few places you can hang out without being scrutinised.

Of course, some teenagers engage in antisocial behaviour. However, they represent a very small proportion of young people. We wouldn’t tolerate a situation in which the behaviour of a limited number of adults led to blanket suspicion of all adults. Yet with teenagers, that generalisation happens and often goes unchallenged.

The risk is that we create a self-fulfilling cycle. Young people who feel distrusted are less likely to trust in return. Those who feel excluded are less likely to engage positively. The generational gap widens not because it is inevitable, but because it is reinforced.

Other forms of exclusion

The ESRI research also highlights that discrimination is not experienced evenly. Young people who identify as LGBTQ+, those from minority ethnic backgrounds, and those with disabilities report higher levels of discrimination. For them, age-based bias intersects with other forms of exclusion.

Interestingly, they found that at age 25, gender is the most commonly cited reason for discrimination, particularly among women. What we are perhaps seeing is the early shaping of gender inequality as young women enter the workplace.

Importantly, those who reported higher levels of discrimination also reported poorer mental health outcomes, which is not incidental; it is connected.

As parents, we cannot entirely eliminate discrimination from our children’s lives, but we can shape how they experience and interpret it. We need to start by listening. 

When a teenager says they felt singled out or treated unfairly, resist the instinct to minimise the experience. These moments matter, even if they seem small. It is vital to validate their experience without reinforcing a sense of victimhood. We do this by helping young people understand what is happening without internalising it as a reflection of their worth.

Creating spaces for them to gather is an issue I keep returning to. Sometimes, the most practical thing a parent can do is make their home a place where teenagers feel welcome to spend time with friends, without excessive scrutiny or judgement. 

And perhaps, most importantly, reflect on our own reactions. That moment I had on the street with the three boys on e-scooters reminded me that the attitudes we challenge in society can still exist subtly within us.

It is crucial to be cognisant of our own internal biases and assumptions and challenge them. We have to catch ourselves if we pre-emptively make negative judgements about teenagers and validate the concerns of our own children who report feelings of discrimination in their lives.

Validating teenagers’ experiences of discrimination is about fairness and about ensuring that an entire generation is not defined by a minority’s actions and our bias.

Most teenagers are not causing trouble. They are navigating a complicated world, trying to find a place where they are welcomed and belong. The question we, as adults, need to ask is whether we are doing enough to make that place of belonging easier to find, or whether we are subtly pushing it further out of reach?

• Dr Colman Noctor is a child psychotherapist