Our Kids Are Struggling—And That Means We Have Work to Do

Parenting today feels like navigating a maze while blindfolded, carrying snacks, and answering a math homework question. We're raising kids in a world that’s wildly different from the one we grew up in—social media instead of playground meetups, streaming instead of Saturday morning cartoons, texting instead of talking. And now, as Arthur C. Brooks recently pointed out in The Atlantic, the data is showing something many of us already suspected in our gut: young people around the world are unhappier than ever before.

Yes, our kids—smart, sensitive, endlessly creative—are struggling. And no, it’s not just about too much screen time (though we’ll get to that). It’s about loneliness, disconnection, and a deep sense of meaninglessness that seems to be creeping into childhood and adolescence earlier and earlier. That’s not just troubling. It’s heartbreaking.

So what can we, as parents, do about it? More than we think, and maybe not in the ways we’d expect.

What the Data (and Our Kids) Are Telling Us

According to Brooks, the old idea of the “U-shaped curve” of happiness—where people hit a low point in midlife before bouncing back—no longer holds true. In fact, recent studies like the Global Flourishing Study and the World Happiness Report show that many young people, especially in wealthy countries like ours, are reporting low well-being from the start. As in, their baseline is already pretty bleak.

This isn’t just about hormones or growing pains. It’s about a genuine erosion of the things that make life feel rich and meaningful: close relationships, face-to-face interactions, a sense of spiritual or philosophical grounding. Brooks calls out the shift away from religious or community-based belonging as a major factor, as well as the disappearance of consistent, real-life connection.

From a parent’s point of view? That checks out.

We see our kids swiping through endless highlight reels, curating their own personalities online, and constantly comparing themselves to a world that doesn’t actually exist. We watch them struggle to make plans that don’t involve screens or group chats. They’re connected 24/7 and yet more isolated than ever. The irony is brutal.

And here’s the kicker: our kids know they’re unhappy. They just don’t always know what to do about it.

Going Beyond Easy Fixes

It would be way easier if the solution were just “less TikTok” and “more nature.” And sure, those things help. But this moment calls for something deeper from us. It’s about how we show up—not just as authority figures, but as guides, companions, and steady presences in an unsteady world.

That starts with connection. And not just, “How was your day?” over the steering wheel while racing to practice. I mean real, intentional moments: walking the dog together. Making dinner as a team. Laughing over a board game. Letting your kid ramble about a video game character’s backstory until your eyes glaze over. These are the building blocks of trust. Kids need to feel seen—truly seen—before they’ll open up about the bigger stuff.

Then there’s meaning. Brooks highlights how a decline in spiritual practice has left a lot of young people unmoored. Now, whether your family follows a specific faith or not, that sense of meaning can come from many places: community service, volunteering, rituals, storytelling, or even just regular reflection about what matters most.

The goal isn’t to hand your kid a pre-packaged life philosophy. It’s to help them start asking the right questions. What does a good life look like? What does it mean to be a good friend, a good citizen, a good human being? These are the conversations that shape identity and no algorithm can do that for them.

Finally, we have to model the very things we want our kids to find. If we’re glued to our phones at dinner, preaching about balance will ring hollow. If we never prioritize joy, rest, or meaningful relationships, they won’t either. As exhausting as it sounds, we are our kids’ emotional weather systems. If we radiate warmth and calm, they have a better shot at staying grounded. If we’re constantly scattered or cynical, they soak that up too.

That doesn’t mean we need to be perfect. Far from it. In fact, one of the most powerful things we can do is own our own mess. Let your kids see you working through hard days. Let them hear you say, “I don’t have all the answers, but I’m here.” That honesty builds resilience more than any motivational speech ever could.

A World That Feels Like Home Again

It’s easy to panic when you see the numbers. Rising rates of anxiety and depression. Skyrocketing loneliness. A generation that feels like it’s losing hope before it even begins.

But panic doesn’t help. Presence does.

Our kids don’t need perfect parents or high-performance households. They need homes that feel like havens. They need adults who are willing to slow down, listen closely, and gently nudge them toward a life of connection and purpose. They need space to stumble—and encouragement to try again. They need to know they’re not alone.

So yes, the world is noisy, and weird, and kind of heavy right now. But if we show up—not as experts, but as fellow humans in progress—we just might help our kids rediscover something vital: that life is still beautiful, that people can be good, and that they are more than enough exactly as they are.

And really, isn’t that what we all needed to hear, back when we were young?