Too young for caviar?

Lowering the political age of consent was made to sound simple enough by Phillip Adams in The Australian in May. His logic was ‘If you’re old enough to get behind the wheel [of a car] you’re old enough to join the ballot lines.’

This logic offers a neat equation, roughly translated as any responsibility equals total responsibility. Extrapolate this seemingly linear theory and suddenly the space for social hysteria is replaced with a rudimentary and systemic clarity. Sounds tidy, and somewhat ideal, but it completely simplifies the complex social construction of youth.

Labelling youth as youth is problematic. Participants of the 2020 Youth Summit have complained that being part of the youth summit was like being sat at the kids table, that condescending experience of being served fish fingers when the adults are reckoning with caviar. So it is to be youth. The experience of driving is diluted with speed and passenger restrictions, youth bodies are regulated—their alcohol intake, piercings, tattoos, sexual freedom monitored—and their accountability to the law is negotiated by a specialist juvenile system.

Then one morning, somewhere between 16 and 21 youths wake up and realise they’re adults?

Youth is such an ugly word, loaded with condescension, stereotype and limitation. Historically, Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet could comprehend lifelong love and life’s end as young teenagers, yet pubescent models in Bill Henson’s recent work cannot realise the gravity of their posing naked for an artist renowned for nude photography. The mollycoddling of modern youth is paradoxical. Society is struggling to come to grips with a youth that are labelled politically apathetic in the same breath as drinking and sexual deviance statistics are touted to confirm that contemporary youth are listless and troubled.

On the other hand, the passionate voices of poster youth at the 2020 Youth Summit ignite the positive ‘youth are this country’s future’ clichés. The truth is youth are nothing if not completely diverse, and the label signifies nothing other than a vague indication of age—somewhere maybe between 12 and 28 years old, and that’s without considering the likelihood of age being more a state of mind than a date of birth.

The politically aware representatives at the youth summit called enthusiastically for the voting age to be reduced to 16, and so they should have. Not because every 16 year old in this country wants to vote, and no doubt few would if they could, but to highlight the futility of ageism with regards to social participation.

This call to action was picked up at the ‘grown-ups’ 2020 summit, but instead of catalysing robust debate about the opportunities and expectations surrounding ‘youth’ it simply became a blip on the radar. In the 405 page 2020 Summit Final Report, a change to the voting age is signaled twice, once by Parliamentary Reform Group II, stating, ‘The voting age should be reduced to 14,’ and once by the Constitution and Rights Group IV, suggesting the voting age should remain at 18 for compulsory voting, with voting for 16 – 17 year olds optional. The trouble with these submissions is they’re just ideas, in other words they’re not calls to action.

The second suggestion is typical of the social mystification around youth. The whole idea of having non-compulsory voting for 16 – 17 year olds comes from the constant social tension that goes like this: My son / daughter is an alert, intelligent, politically aware youngster. So are all his / her friends. But what about the Corey Worthington types? Non-compulsory voting for people under 18 is ludicrous, and affords them no extra political currency. If politics ignores them—as history suggests—chances are they’ll avoid the polls.

Cultural theorist Sarah Thornton argues that youth as ‘hooligans’ is a forced political position. The location of youth at the fringes of society is constructed by hegemony, and is inevitable. To vote youth would radiate inward from the fringes, and become participants. And perhaps the label of youth would no longer be used as feel-good political rhetoric. Youth are politically aware, but their label needs urgently to become politically incorrect. For 16 year olds and above, here’s to round table discussions, compulsory voting and caviar for all, clothing optional.