Is Europe ageing fairly?

Over the last couple of years, I have become slightly obsessed with how Europe’s population is ageing. Part of that is professional. Much of my work involves listening to citizens and trying to understand the choices shaping Europe. But part of it is also personal. As a parent, I cannot help thinking about the kind of future today’s choices are creating for my kids.

When we look at the numbers, the scale is hard to ignore. By 2050, Europe is expected to have 60 million more pensioners than it does today, supported by a smaller working-age population and financed in large part by a younger generation that currently owns less than 5% of the continent’s wealth. That is not just a future demographic challenge. It is already deeply personal for young Europeans, shaping their present through unaffordable housing, insecure work, stretched public services, uncertain pensions and strained healthcare.

It also raises a deeper democratic question: what happens to trust when younger generations feel the system is no longer working for them? If young people are asked to pay more, work longer, save less and delay key life milestones, while doubting whether the systems they are paying into will still be there for them, then ageing becomes more than a fiscal issue. It becomes a test of trust and fairness between generations.

Our latest report, Voices for Choices 2026, listens to 2,000 young people across Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Poland and Spain. Their concerns point to one central question: is Europe ageing fairly? Across the six countries, a clear picture emerges. This is a generation defined less by ideology than by practical concerns, cautious optimism and a growing sense that Europe’s social contract is under strain.

That strain runs through all five themes of the report. On pensions, young people are paying into systems they do not fully trust and increasingly expect to work longer for less certainty. On housing, rising costs are delaying independence, family formation and long-term security. On healthcare, present access is overshadowed by fears that ageing societies will stretch already pressured systems even further. On education, many still see learning as a route to opportunity, but doubt current systems are preparing them for longer and more uncertain working lives. On work, optimism about finding jobs is repeatedly undercut by low pay, instability and the feeling that labour no longer guarantees independence.

Taken together, these pressures point to two possible futures. In one, ageing deepens the gap between generations: younger Europeans shoulder rising tax and care burdens while trusting institutions less and less. In the other, ageing becomes the catalyst for renewing Europe’s social contract, forcing policymakers to treat pensions, housing, healthcare, education and work as connected foundations of social stability and democratic trust.

I hope we choose the second path.

That means being honest about what change will require, and it means no longer treating demographic ageing as a background trend. It’s a structural challenge, but also a political choice. If Europe’s leaders fail to respond, the result will be more than policy drift. It will be a deeper erosion of trust between generations. If they succeed, ageing can still become a moment of renewal rather than decline.