IY-LAW

Exploring Civic Responsibility vs. Political Maturity

Samantha Cameron

Samantha is a student at the American International School in Mozambique.

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When I first heard the idea that 16-year-olds should be allowed to vote, I’ll admit — I laughed. Not because I thought it was ridiculous, but because it sounded so… unlikely. At 16, I was just figuring out how taxes worked, and the biggest debate in my life was whether pineapple belonged on pizza. But the more I sat with the idea, the more I began to realise: this isn’t a joke. It’s a genuine question about fairness, voice, and how we define what it means to participate in a democracy.

In many parts of the world, the age to vote is set at 18 — a neat milestone, the moment someone legally becomes an adult. But is that really the best measure of political maturity? What about civic responsibility? That’s where things get complicated.

Let’s start with what 16-year-olds can already do. They can work. They pay taxes. In some countries, they can drive. In others, they can even enlist in the military — with parental consent, of course. And in certain cases, if they break the law, they’re tried as adults. That’s a lot of responsibility to place on someone who, paradoxically, can’t yet vote for the people writing those laws.

It feels like a double standard. If we trust 16-year-olds to drive on the same roads as adults and contribute to the same economy, then why don’t we trust them to cast a vote? That’s not to say voting is easy — it’s complex and weighty — but so are many of the choices we already expect them to make.

There’s research, too. A study from Austria — the first country in Europe to lower its voting age to 16 — found that 16- and 17-year-olds were just as informed and consistent in their voting as older demographics. That really challenged my assumptions. I’d always thought political engagement came with age, but maybe the truth is that it comes with opportunity.

And here’s what really shifted things for me: today’s teenagers aren’t passive. They’re organising climate strikes, rallying against gun violence, and leading conversations that many adults are too tired or too afraid to have. These aren’t just trends — they’re movements. And behind many of them are young people who care deeply, but have no vote to back that passion. That contradiction is hard to ignore.

Still, I get why people are hesitant. The main argument against giving 16-year-olds the vote is maturity. And let’s be honest — 16-year-olds can be impulsive. I know I was. Critics point to the science: the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for reasoning and decision-making, isn’t fully developed until around age 25. That’s fair. But if that’s the standard, then should we be raising the voting age instead of lowering it?

And here’s another worry I’ve heard — one that actually made me pause. If most 16-year-olds are still in school, won’t they be more easily influenced by teachers or parents? Could this turn voting into a kind of echo chamber where young people just parrot the views of the adults around them? Maybe. But then again, how many adults vote based on the opinions of their friends, their favourite news channel, or the loudest voice on social media? Influence doesn’t stop at 18.

Some critics also argue that youth voter turnout is already low. And they’re right — statistically, young people vote in smaller numbers. But I wonder if that’s because they don’t care… or because they’ve never felt that the system truly cared about them. Maybe giving them the vote earlier would make them feel seen — and spark a deeper, longer-lasting sense of civic engagement.

And we’re not operating in a vacuum here. Austria’s been doing this since 2007. Scotland lowered the voting age for their independence referendum in 2014. In both places, the 16- and 17-year-old turnout was not only decent — in some cases, it was higher than that of voters in their early twenties. That tells us something. It tells us that when young people are given the opportunity, many of them take it seriously.

Brazil and Argentina offer another path. There, voting becomes optional at 16 and compulsory at 18. It’s a softer rollout, a kind of invitation rather than an expectation. Maybe that’s a good middle ground — a way to test the waters without diving in all at once.

Ultimately, the question of whether to lower the voting age is really about something bigger: what do we think the vote is? Is it a test of wisdom? A privilege earned through life experience? Or is it a right — one that comes from living in a society, paying into it, being shaped by it, and therefore deserving a say in how it works?

If it’s the latter — and I believe it is — then it’s hard to justify keeping 16-year-olds out. Because they’re already inside the system. They’re affected by climate policies, education budgets, public health plans. They’re not just the future — they’re the present. And they’re watching.

I used to think the ballot was something you received once you’d figured out the world. But maybe that’s backwards. Maybe the ballot is part of how you learn to figure it out. Maybe giving it earlier teaches young people not just how to vote, but how to care.

So… should 16-year-olds be given the vote?

At first, I wasn’t sure. But now, I think it’s time. They already have the voice — maybe we just need to give them the volume.