Jennifer Horgan: Ireland's young people are being shortchanged, but instead of protesting they fade away
People protest living costs and education in Paris last week. Young people are tired of corruption and inequality, tired of standing in the longest queue, while older citizens zip through the priority line. Photo: AP/Teresa Suarez
Youth is having a moment, and no, I’m not referring to Sharon Horgan’s new show on HBO — though it is a cracker. My God, can that woman rock an ankle boot.
No, I’m referring to the giant swell of youth protests happening across the world.
Britain’s former prime minister Gordon Brown is calling it a global ‘youthquake’, the tremors affecting dozens of countries, arising from mobilisations online. It had a major impact on the midterm elections in America too, with historic levels of support for Democratic candidates.
Young people want change and you can’t blame them. Across the OECD, as Brown informs us, about half of health and social security spending goes to those over 65 — despite them making up only 18.5% of the total population. Young people are tired of corruption and inequality, tired of standing in the longest queue, while older citizens zip through the priority line.
France is a stark example of this. According to French think tank OFCE, people over 60 account for one-quarter of France’s population but own 60% of France’s wealth. Students there report being left to sit in rat-infested classrooms waiting for teachers who don’t arrive.
And they are not alone in their discontent. Hundreds of thousands of peaceful protesters have joined their movement, a genuine protest, despite being hijacked by a violent minority.
In many countries, police response has been brutal. It’s no surprise. Youth energy terrifies us. Youth protests are statistically less violent than adult protests, but the rawness of youth, their fearlessness, scares us. And fear of youngsters — vampires and werewolves, the lot of them — intensifies as they multiply.
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Two young people become scarier than one, especially two young people almost celestially connected, like Emily Bronte’s Cathy and Heathcliff, or Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The fire of youth often shines too bright for us adults to manage.
As it happens, the sparking and unpredictable energy of a youthful twosome is about to hit the Everyman stage tonight as Cork returns to one of its finest theatrical achievements, Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs, a play centred around two effervescent Cork characters, Runt and Pig.
It was first staged 30 years ago and so it has me thinking about that time again, when I was 16, and our rebel city was 30 years younger. Pig and Runt exist in a strange symbiotic world, with their own language and their own unique ways of resisting the world.
That’s how I’d characterise Cork in 1996. It was in conversation with itself somehow, full of its own ‘little brother’ importance. As the lore goes, Enda Walsh wrote the play after a dream he had of pigs eating the city. I love that image, the joyful animalism of youth.
I was too busy following boys around suburban shopping centres to see it then, but I was interested in theatre. In fact, two years after , I volunteered to play an extra in Corcadorca’s production of Sarah Kane’s . I ended up having a significant impact on the show, most notably when I fainted on opening night, and had to be dragged off stage by Enda Walsh.

I must have been semi-conscious because I can still hear the swoosh of my little laced-up brógs across the plywood floor. But an embarrassing moment is still a moment! Put another way, a dashing Enda Walsh cradled me in his lovely arms before jetting off to collaborate with David Bowie. It’s as close to cool as I’m getting.
But back to 1996, and back to . There was this incredibly youthful energy around Cork then, buoyed by a vibrant, irreverent music scene and late night venues like Sir Henrys and The Half Moon Theatre. Does Cork still have that energy, I wonder? Or have young people become a little more sedate? Will the two teenagers Runt and Pig land in the same way?
Enda Walsh’s current cast of two certainly seem unlikely to suffer any fainting spells. Having watched rehearsal reels they seem like two incredibly exciting new talents, Séamus McLean Ross as Pig and Aoise Meaney as Runt. I’m bringing my teenage son and daughter along tonight and I’m beyond excited for them to experience it. More than that, I want them to feel it.
Because honestly, I look at Irish teenagers sometimes and wonder why they’re so amenable when we continue to shortchange them. They don’t have it as bad as teenagers in lots of countries but they have plenty to be annoyed about.

We adults have spent the last 10 years shoving devices into their hands at home and (worse again) at school. As we do so, we warn them about social media, the perils of screen time and the pitfalls of parasocial relationships.
We warn them against using AI in their study, meanwhile they hear that AI is reducing their graduate job opportunities. Research commissioned by the National Youth Council of Ireland (NYCI) this year found that 68% of 18-to 24-year-olds surveyed said they are considering moving abroad, while 71% believed they would have a better quality of life outside Ireland.
Jobs that would have brought financial security in the past (like in 1996) are failing to keep up with inflation. Homes have become unaffordable. They watch as their own teachers, along with firefighters, nurses, and council workers gear up for yet another strike.
Young people should be fed-up and yet, they never really complain, or thrash about, or even protest. Yes, we have climate marches, and protests for Palestine, but I can’t imagine young people blocking schools and demanding a fairer education system here.
The only way they seem to protest about the school system is by fading away. They’re not rebelling by blocking schools. Their rebellion is an empty seat in a classroom, a name called but never answered.

According to the latest Tusla report, the number of students recording chronic rates of absenteeism in secondary schools increased by more than 8,000 in the 2024/25 school year. The system should be asking itself why. I have one answer.
Students in plenty of other countries get far more autonomy in their learning. In plenty of countries they can choose their preferred subjects for their final, most impactful exams.
They can drop English, Maths or languages, going with what best serves them and their future aspirations. In other countries, they get to choose what makes them feel good about themselves, at least for the very last years of their schooling.
No-one wants rioting here. But I wouldn’t mind a student protest over the absence of wraparound school supports, over poor school buildings, over the nonsense of being told what to study at the age of 17, 18, 19. I’d certainly prefer peacefully protesting students than having fewer students.
In the meantime, I hope some of these absent students make their way to The Everyman this week. I hope Disco Pigs sparks something in them, that it “stars the dark” for them, (to borrow from Doireann Ni Ghríofa), just as it did for so many, 30 years ago.




