By Jeannine Chiang / EMS
How can younger generations expect to uphold our nation’s fragile democracy if we’re disconnected from the conversations that matter most?
This morning in my United States Government and Politics class, a simple question from my teacher prompted an unexpectedly heavy silence: “Who watched the Presidential debate on Tuesday, Sept. 10th?”
One by one, my classmates responded, offering up reasons for why they hadn’t in fact watched the debate, whether because of soccer practice, or art class, or piles of homework — a snapshot of our busy teenage lives.
But the fact remains that very few of my fellow students, if any, had watched the debate, which drew an audience of some 67 million Americans. Not even the highlights.
As a senior, this realization hits hard.
Most of us will turn 18 this year, finally old enough to vote and, along with it, take on the responsibility to shape our future. But how can we expect to uphold our nation’s fragile democracy, or make decisions that will guide our country’s future course if we’re disconnected from the conversations that matter most?
It’s a scary thought, but it’s an increasingly common reality. Members of Gen Z — those of us born between 1996 and 2010 — rarely if at all consume the news even when we do bother to engage. Our sources aren’t The New York Times or The Washington Post; in fact, they aren’t news sites at all.
According to the Pew Research Center, about one-third of Americans aged 18 to 29 regularly get their news from TikTok. Social media offers quick, accessible snippets, but understanding the nuances of our political reality demands a critical eye and media literacy skills that many of us simply haven’t developed and that social media doesn’t offer.
The result? A generation consuming content curated by algorithms, designed not for accuracy but for engagement, clicks and likes.
Last night, after watching the Presidential debate on ABC News, I scrolled through TikTok to unwind. I was immediately bombarded by videos about Vice President and Democratic Nominee Kamala Harris. Accounts like @kamalahq, boasting over four million followers, churned out pro-Harris content set to trending music, complete with memes and jokes, often at the expense of Republican Nominee Donald Trump.
One video in particular stood out: a slide reading, “Tonight a convicted felon will debate,” alongside a photo of Trump, followed by another slide of Harris labeled “a prosecutor.” The comments were filled with mocking laughter and “LMAO,” reflecting a narrative aimed not at fostering understanding but promoting ridicule.
Politics, it seems, has become less about civic engagement and more about entertainment for many of my generation. We engage through the lens of celebrities and influencers rather than through direct involvement. Candidates gain support not because of their policies but because our favorite stars endorse them.
Taylor Swift’s endorsement of Harris, for example, dominated conversations among my friends, overshadowing any substantive discussion of the debate itself. My Instagram feed was filled with memes referencing Swift’s “Childless Cat Lady” comment — a playful jab at GOP VP Candidate JD Vance’s remarks deriding unmarried women.
Swift’s post displaced any discussion about Trump or Harris’ policy stances.
And it’s not just Harris or Swift — the broader conversation often drifts into the absurd. I saw more about Trump’s outlandish and false claims — like bizarre statements about “immigrants eating pets” or “executing babies” — than any real discussion of policy. It feels as if the genuine issues facing our country are buried beneath sensational sound bites and clickbait, reducing the serious business of democracy to a string of viral moments.
I’m worried we’re missing the point. In a world that increasingly values the quick hit of dopamine from a “like” or a share, what happens to our commitment to the slow, deliberate work of being informed citizens? Democracy isn’t just about casting a vote on election day. We must engage with the complex, often uncomfortable truths of our society that require more than just scrolling through social media.
As young people, we’re poised to inherit a world that needs thoughtful, informed leadership more than ever. But if we’re not even willing to watch a debate, how can we expect to take on that responsibility? We owe it to ourselves — and to each other — to do better, to look beyond influencers and viral videos, and to engage deeply with the issues that truly matter.
Even Taylor Swift, in her endorsement, urged us to “do your research.” If we don’t, we risk becoming not just uninformed voters, but a generation that’s lost sight of what it truly means to be part of a democracy.
Jeannine Chiang is an aspiring journalist and a senior at Burlingame High School in Burlingame, California where she is a reporter for the school paper, The Burlingame B.
