According to a new Gallup report, nearly one in four Gen Z Americans identifies as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer. That’s more than just a statistic — it’s a statement, and a troubling one, for reasons that will become clearer.
Just over a decade ago, the number was a fraction of that. Are young people more open and accepting, or is there something deeper at play? I believe it’s the latter.
Yes, times have changed. Being gay or transgender is no longer the social taboo it once was. However, newfound acceptance alone cannot explain these large numbers. Beneath the surface lies something far more complicated: a growing hunger for an identity in a generation that, paradoxically, has never been more connected yet feels more lost than ever.
To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with self-discovery. Every generation has had its phases of rebellion — leather jackets in the 1950s, tie-dye in the ’60s and grunge in the ’90s. But something different is happening now. This isn’t just fashion or music tastes — it’s identity, something once considered deeply personal and relatively stable. Now, it is fluid, marketable, and, crucially, public.
Obviously, social media plays a huge role. In a world where every thought can be broadcast to thousands in seconds, identity is part of a carefully choreographed performance. Declaring a new label becomes content — something to post about, something that earns attention and approval, likes and shares. When being “different” grants you social clout, why settle for being ordinary? The pressure is immense, especially for teenagers whose brains are wired to crave peer acceptance.
Part of this sudden rush to redefine oneself stems from a disturbing broader trend. Specifically, a lack of solid foundations. Previous generations found identity through family, faith, nation or community — anchors that provided stability and a sense of belonging.
However, Gen Z has come of age in a very different world. Religion has lost its influence, with churches emptying and traditional moral frameworks dismissed as outdated. Patriotism, once a unifying force, is often portrayed as naïve or even shameful. Families are more fractured than ever, with high divorce rates, an increasing number of single-parent households and children spending more time raised by screens than by parents.
Real-world communities — neighborhoods where kids once played outside, and families knew each other — have been replaced by transient, disconnected living arrangements where people barely nod at their neighbors.
But it’s not just these traditional pillars that have weakened. The economic landscape has shifted dramatically, leaving many young people feeling disillusioned. Homeownership — the cornerstone of the American Dream — is increasingly out of reach. Stable, long-term jobs have been replaced by gig work and unstable contracts. College, once seen as a pathway to success, now often leads to crushing debt with no guarantee of meaningful employment.
Add to this the constant drumbeat of climate catastrophe, political dysfunction and media narratives painting the future as bleak, and it’s no wonder young people feel utterly disillusioned.
Education, which could and should offer guidance, has, in recent times, become more about pushing ideological viewpoints than fostering critical thinking. Students are encouraged to focus on their feelings and identities rather than developing resilience or a sense of purpose beyond themselves.
Meanwhile, online media floods them with conflicting messages — be yourself, but also conform to the latest social justice trend; prioritize self-care, but remain hyper-productive; reject traditional roles, but somehow still find meaning in life.
However, placing all the blame on media platforms misses the bigger picture. The identity frenzy is a perfect storm of cultural, economic and existential upheaval. When every traditional structure that once provided meaning has seemingly crumbled, young people are left to grasp at whatever semblance of identity they can find.
Redefining oneself through sexual or gender labels becomes a quick fix — a way to feel part of something, stand out in a crowd or escape the overwhelming sense of hopelessness. But it’s a fleeting fix, like slapping a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.
When identity is used to patch up an existential hole, it rarely works long-term. Labels might offer temporary comfort, but they can’t provide the deep sense of purpose that past generations found in more enduring things. This could explain why rates of anxiety, depression and loneliness remain sky-high among young people — even as they proclaim newfound identities.
Ironically, what was once a form of rebellion has become mainstream. In some social circles, being straight or traditionally gendered is now the “boring” option — the new conformity. It’s less about who someone truly is and more about not wanting to be left out. When everyone around you is changing their label or announcing a new identity, staying the same can feel like you’re missing the party.
This isn’t to say all these young people are faking. Human identity is complex. But when it becomes a bandwagon, something is clearly off.
In the end, maybe the real crisis isn’t about how many Gen Zers identify as LGBTQ — it’s about why so many young people feel the need to reinvent themselves in the first place.
John Mac Ghlionn is a writer and researcher who explores culture, society and the impact of technology on daily life.
