Young people aren’t reckless. They’re confused — and we’ve left them that way.

Dr Michael Carr-Gregg AO

February 4, 2026

Child & Adolescent Psychologist, Author, Founding member CanTeen, Founding psychologist SchoolTV, Patron of Read the Play, Accredited Mental Health First Aid Trainer

February 4, 2026At first glance, the latest survey from the Burnet Institute looks reassuring. Young people are drinking less. They know vaping is harmful. They are, on paper at least, more health-literate than any generation before them. And yet the same young people are vaping in record numbers, using harder drugs more frequently, and remain dangerously misinformed about sexual health. The Burnet Institute’s Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll survey reveals something far more troubling than “risky youth behaviour”. It exposes a widening chasm between what young people know and what they are actually able to do in the real world.

Take vaping. Young people rated its harmfulness at a staggering 89 out of 100. Yet nearly two-thirds still use e-cigarettes. That’s not ignorance. That’s addiction meeting accessibility, peer pressure and stealth marketing — in an environment where anaemic regulation lags years behind reality. As Associate Professor Megan Lim rightly points out, knowledge alone isn’t enough. Expecting awareness to trump addiction is like handing someone a fire safety brochure and sending them into a burning building.

Then there’s sex education — or rather, the absence of it. Despite unprecedented access to information online, many young Australians lack basic, practical understanding of sexual health, consent and sexually transmitted infections. Porn has become the lead sex educator for young people. Social media fills the gaps. Silence does the rest. We should stop pretending that “they can Google it” is a public health strategy.

The drug data is equally worrying. Seven in ten respondents have used illicit drugs. Cocaine and ketamine use are rising, even as MDMA declines. The Alcohol and Drug Foundation reminds us that nationally, drug use is “stable” — but stable does not mean safe, especially for the developing brain. And here’s the irony: at the same time as drug use remains high, alcohol consumption is falling sharply. Research from Flinders University shows Gen Z are far more likely than Baby Boomers to abstain from alcohol altogether.

This matters. It tells us young people are capable of behaviour change when the environment supports it. We restricted alcohol advertising and promotion, (sporting events still have a loophole) but alcohol is harder to glamorise now. Drink-driving laws are clear. Social norms have shifted. Messaging has been consistent. We haven’t done the same for vaping, hard drugs or sexual health. Instead, we’ve relied on fear-based messaging, patchy education, and the comforting myth that young people will simply “make better choices” if we warn them loudly enough. They won’t — because no generation ever has.

Which is why the Victorian Premier’s reported consideration of abolishing the Victorian Health Promotion Foundation is not just short-sighted, it is insanity. VicHealth has arguably done more for adolescent health promotion than any other organisation in the state: driving shifts in attitudes to smoking and alcohol, funding school- and community-based programs, and building exactly the kind of long-term, evidence-based prevention infrastructure this survey says we need more of, not less. Dismantling that capacity at the very moment we are asking young people to navigate more complex risks than ever would widen the gap between knowledge and action even further.

If we genuinely care about youth wellbeing, we need to move beyond awareness campaigns and into structural action: tighter regulation of vaping products, modernised and mandatory sex education, honest harm-minimisation frameworks, and adults who are willing to talk — plainly and often — about risk, pleasure, consent and consequence.

Young people are not broken. The system around them is. And until we fix that, surveys like this won’t shock us — they’ll simply confirm what young people already know: they are navigating adult-level risks with child-level support. That is the real disconnect.

Why Australia's Sober Teens are Our Most Radical Generation Yet

For decades, Australians have treated alcohol as a social passport. To refuse a drink was to risk ridicule. “C’mon, just one” was as much a part of adolescence as acne and awkward school photos. But something is shifting, and it’s happening in the very demographic most marketers assumed would keep the grog flowing: our young people.

Across Adelaide — and increasingly across the nation — Gen Z is turning its back on booze. They are gathering for matcha raves instead of beer barns, swapping shots for sober socials, and asking a revolutionary question: do we actually need alcohol to connect, belong, and have fun?

As a psychologist who has spent decades working with young Australians, I find this trend nothing short of thrilling. In an era where anxiety, depression, and self-harm rates among young people remain unacceptably high, the fact that more teenagers and twenty-somethings are making conscious, health-positive decisions about alcohol is a story worth celebrating.

Why the change? For one, this generation has grown up watching their parents drink — and not always in healthy ways. They’ve seen the fallout: family fights, risky behaviour, the emotional toll of dependency. Unlike previous generations, they’re prepared to say, “No thanks.”

They’re also more health-savvy than any cohort before them. These are young people raised on wellness apps, brain science TikToks, and a cultural shift that frames alcohol not as a rite of passage but as a carcinogen, a depressant, and a sleep-wrecking agent.

And then there’s the economic reality. With cost-of-living pressures biting, the price of a night out on alcohol looks increasingly absurd. Why fork out $18 for a cocktail when you can buy a green tea, feel sharp the next morning, and still make it to uni tutorials or work shifts on time?

The benefits for mental health are obvious. Alcohol is a depressant. It amplifies anxiety, lowers mood, impairs judgment, and increases impulsivity — a dangerous mix in a cohort already navigating intense academic, social, and digital pressures. Removing alcohol from the equation makes space for genuine connections and healthier coping strategies.

As one young Adelaidean put it, “Drinking is inconvenient. You can’t drive, you can’t do things, you’re kind of confused.” That kind of clarity is gold for young people trying to hold down jobs, pass exams, and manage friendships in an increasingly demanding world.

What’s fascinating is how quickly culture is adapting. Venues now stock sophisticated alcohol-free beers and mocktails. Daytime parties powered by tea or kombucha are no longer niche but mainstream. In fact, businesses ignoring this shift risk losing an entire generation of customers who simply don’t see intoxication as entertainment.

Compare this to 10 years ago, when choosing soda water over sauvignon blanc was seen as suspicious. Now, it’s a sign of maturity. We’ve gone from “prove you can hold your drink” to “prove you can hold a conversation without one.” That’s real progress.

Of course, we must be careful not to romanticise this completely. Some young people will still misuse alcohol, and binge drinking remains a stubborn part of our culture. But for the first time in my professional life, I can see a real cultural tipping point.

If we want to support it, parents should resist the urge to pressure kids into drinking “like everyone else.” Schools should include sober socialising as a legitimate and positive lifestyle choice in health education. And policymakers must keep investing in public health campaigns that reinforce the benefits of moderation or abstinence.

There’s something deeply hopeful about this story. For years we have labelled Gen Z the most anxious generation in history. And yet, in their rejection of alcohol, they are showing extraordinary resilience and clarity. They’re rewriting what it means to be young in Australia: less about hangovers and regret, more about agency, authenticity, and mental health.  That’s not boring. That’s brave.  So let’s drop the outdated stereotypes about “kids these days” and recognise what’s really happening. A generation is quietly staging one of the most radical health revolutions of our time. They’re not losing out on fun. They’re gaining freedom. And for once, it’s the adults who could stand to follow their lead.