It has become fashionable for government-led platforms to declare \u201cyouth inclusion\u201d as a pillar of public policy development. <\/p>\n
Every summit, white paper or economic plan features a paragraph about listening to young people. We are invited to consultations, featured on flyers and asked to speak on panels. But the question we must ask is this: does any of it matter?<\/p>\n
As South Africa assumes the G20 presidency<\/a> in 2025, the country prepares to host the Y20 Summit<\/a> for the first time on African soil. The Y20 promises to gather delegates to shape policy recommendations for global leaders. Five themes \u2014 from inclusive economic growth and artificial intelligence to multilateral reform \u2014 are rich with potential. <\/p>\n But will the voices shared and declarations adopted translate into action? Or will they join the shelf of past youth policy proposals that never moved beyond hashtags and headlines?<\/p>\n South Africa\u2019s youth are not short on ideas. They are short on influence.<\/p>\n From the Presidential Youth Employment Intervention to the National Youth Policy 2030, the country has launched numerous frameworks to empower young people. <\/p>\n Yet when it comes to actual policy adoption and implementation, young voices often become performative footnotes rather than driving forces. The same pattern is emerging at global levels. As inspiring as the Y20 agenda sounds, one must ask: do the G20 leaders really listen? Or is youth engagement simply a box to tick?<\/p>\n The problem is not a lack of opportunity to participate \u2014 it is the passivity of that participation. Young people are invited into policy spaces, but often as observers, not co-creators. The format is familiar: youth speak, applause follows, the final communique is written elsewhere. When the time comes to draft budgets or pass binding legislation, the seats we once occupied are empty.<\/p>\n This isn\u2019t new. South Africa\u2019s post-1994 democratic journey has included youth in rhetoric and planning \u2014 but with limited structural empowerment. The National Youth Commission Act of 1996 was one of the earliest efforts to institutionalise youth input. This led to the creation of the National Youth Commission and later the NYDA<\/a>, intended to mainstream youth development across government.<\/p>\n While these institutions played a role in supporting education and entrepreneurship, they often lacked teeth. Without budgetary power or legislative authority, their influence depended on the goodwill of departments. Worse, many consultations run through these structures were characterised by limited feedback loops \u2014 a recurring theme even today.<\/p>\n The same cycle played out during the 2006\u20132009 Youth Development Strategy, where policy dialogues were conducted across provinces but rarely translated into funded interventions. Youth were told they were being heard but the outcomes didn\u2019t reflect that.<\/p>\n In 2015, the National Youth Policy 2020 attempted to reset the agenda, promising better coordination and cross-sectoral alignment. Yet by 2021, the NYDA\u2019s review highlighted serious implementation gaps. Recommendations were not properly tracked. Feedback mechanisms were absent. Youth themselves noted that they didn\u2019t see their proposals reflected in departmental plans.<\/p>\n This isn\u2019t a uniquely South African problem. Around the world, youth forums are held \u2014 but follow-through is weak. At the UN Youth Forum<\/a>, young leaders present detailed reports to member states. Yet years later, even basic asks \u2014 like easier visa regimes for youth exchange \u2014 remain unresolved.<\/p>\n In Kenya, the Youth Council was given formal advisory powers in 2010, but a 2018 audit showed that its impact on national policy was negligible. In Brazil, youth participation is codified in education reform law, but municipal uptake varies wildly, creating a postcode lottery of influence.<\/p>\n South Africa has an opportunity to break that cycle \u2014 but only if it treats initiatives like the Y20 not as PR campaigns, but as pipelines for reform.<\/p>\n At the heart of the matter is the disconnection between policy participation and policy influence.<\/p>\n In a democracy as young and dynamic as South Africa, this should be a crisis. Nearly two-thirds of the population is under 35. Unemployment among youth sits above 44%<\/a>. Young people are not just stakeholders \u2014 they are the majority. And yet they remain politically peripheral. Tokenised in engagement forums, sidelined in decision-making.<\/p>\n The Y20 structure reinforces this contradiction. It culminates in a communique presented to G20 leaders, but there is no guarantee those leaders will read, adopt, or act on the recommendations. There is no enforcement mechanism. No reporting obligation. No accountability framework for governments to implement the ideas of youth.<\/p>\n Take climate change as an example. The Y20 platform promises to promote a youth-led just transition. But where is the funding for youth-led renewable initiatives? Where is the partnership with rural youth in biodiversity zones? These recommendations risk becoming poetic policy poetry \u2014 beautiful, ambitious, and ignored.<\/p>\n The same applies to economic inclusion. \u201cPathways to Prosperity,\u201d one of the five Y20 themes, seeks to create jobs for the youth. <\/p>\n To avoid these pitfalls, South Africa\u2019s G20 presidency must go beyond hosting. It must commit to institutionalising youth power.<\/p>\n