AI and the Initiation Crisis of Generation Z in Türkiye and Austria: A Žižekian-Freudian Analysis

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⚠️⏳🚪 CRISIS OF TRANSITION ⚠️⏳🚪

(link, German, AI and the Crisis of Sublimation: Lacanian Insights on Social and Intellectual Roles in Peril)

Introduction

The rapid rise of artificial intelligence (AI) under late capitalism (Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression) is provoking what can be described as an “initiation crisis” for Generation Z – a profound disruption in the usual pathways through which young people enter adult social and economic roles. In both Türkiye and Austria, Gen Z faces a labor market transformed by AI-driven automation and algorithmic management, leading to systemic changes in how work and capital are organized. Entry-level jobs and creative intellectual roles that once helped youth build identity and career momentum are disappearing, while those opportunities that remain are often precarious or inaccessible. This report examines the consequences: economic isolation, psychological burnout, erosion of motivation, rising anxiety, stalled social mobility, and a pervasive sense of futurelessness and alienation among young people. The analysis is framed through a Žižekian-Freudian lens, drawing on Lacan’s theory of sublimation and the concept of das Ding (“the Thing”) from Seminar VII: The Ethics of Psychoanalysis. In Lacanian terms, the symbolic structures that traditionally helped channel youthful drives into meaningful adult projects (work, art, knowledge – the classic avenues of sublimation) are being colonized or hollowed out by AI. The result is a disruption of the symbolic transition into adulthood, leaving many Gen Z individuals suspended in a prolonged state of dependence and disconnection, unsure of how to find purpose in a world where machines increasingly occupy the space of human creativity and decision-making.

This report will rigorously explore the dimensions of this crisis in Türkiye and Austria, highlighting both similarities and differences. It will then consider how AI might paradoxically be reimagined as a “structuring absence” (das Ding) – a void around which new forms of community and meaning could be built – if public policy boldly steps up to craft a new social contract prioritizing human development, symbolic meaning, and psychosocial integration.

Late Capitalism, AI, and the Restructuring of Labor and Capital

AI is not just another technological innovation; it is a general-purpose technology that is reshaping the fundamental relationship between labor and capital in late capitalism. Unlike past technological advances that boosted human productivity, today’s AI often outright replaces human labor (PDF: Stress in America – American Psychological Association), especially in routine cognitive tasks. This has begun to restructure labor markets by displacing jobs and altering the demand for skills, while enabling new modes of capital accumulation that concentrate wealth. Studies indicate that AI adoption correlates with a rising capital share of income (profits) at the expense of labor’s share. In other words, owners of AI-driven enterprises capture more value while the proportion going to wages shrinks. Economic analyses warn that AI-driven progress may exacerbate wealth inequality: one comprehensive study finds a statistically significant correlation between AI technology uptake and increased wealth disparity. As firms employ AI to cut costs and automate production, returns on capital intensify while opportunities for human employment diminish. Indeed, theoretical models show that when enterprises substitute machines for human work, “the capital share increases [and] the labor income share decreases.”

This dynamic leads to a concentration of economic power. Major corporations that control AI platforms (whether global tech firms or, in Türkiye’s case, large conglomerates adopting AI) gain competitive advantages and expand, whereas smaller firms or traditional sectors fall behind. AI allows companies to scale services without proportional human hiring – consider how a chatbot can handle customer queries 24/7 or an algorithm can manage an investment portfolio – yielding higher productivity but with fewer entry-level employees. The benefits of productivity growth under late capitalism are largely flowing to shareholders and executives, not broadly to workers. For Gen Z, this translates into a harsher landscape: fewer job openings, especially at the beginner level, and more gig-like, contingent positions, if any. Crucially, these changes are happening in an era already marked by neoliberal policies, weak labor protections, and an ethos of relentless competition. AI arrives as the latest force multiplier of those trends, accelerating “jobless growth” and precarious forms of work.

In Türkiye, this restructuring is magnified by the country’s demographic and economic context (Gen-Z: They Crave Stability And Trust, So Give It To Them – Forbes). With a large youth population and an economy recovering from recent volatility, the infusion of AI into industries threatens to worsen an already fragile youth employment situation. Türkiye’s youth unemployment rate, while recently improved, hovers around 15% (early 2025), and the country historically has one of the highest shares of NEET (Not in Employment, Education, or Training) youth among OECD nations. As of a few years ago, nearly 29% of Turkish young people were NEET – the highest rate in the OECD – reflecting structural difficulties in school-to-work transition and job creation. Under these conditions (Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression), the reduction in hiring falls heavily on youth. By contrast, Austria is a wealthy, technologically advanced EU economy with a smaller youth cohort and strong vocational training programs. Youth unemployment in Austria is lower (around 10–11% in 2024), and the country’s dual education system has historically eased entry into skilled trades and professions. However, even in Austria, signs of labor market stratification and stagnation are evident. Studies by the OECD note that intergenerational income mobility in Austria is relatively low, with children’s earnings closely tied to their parents’ status – a “stickier” top and bottom of society. This indicates a ceiling on how far those from less privileged backgrounds can rise, even before AI’s impact is considered. The arrival of AI could further entrench this stratification: high-skilled jobs might remain for those with advanced education or connections, but many routine white-collar roles (including stepping-stone jobs) could vanish, making it harder for lower- or middle-class youths to climb the ladder.

AI’s transformative effect is also prompting a re-evaluation of what work means. Slavoj Žižek argues that, unlike previous tools that extended human mastery, AI might signal humans relinquishing control. The “old anthropocentric arrogance” that technology serves human progress may be giving way to a scenario of human irrelevance. In Žižek’s view, if AI-enabled systems run autonomously, capital accumulation continues apace but without a clear role for the mass of humanity – a prospect he calls the “post-human desert.” This stark warning highlights the existential stakes: an economy where AI handles much of production and decision-making could deprive people, especially young new entrants, of the sense of agency and purpose (Turkish youth unhappy, in debt, want to move abroad: Survey) (Survey link) in having a productive role. This is not science fiction – already, AI is being used in hiring, retail, finance, transportation, and creative industries, reducing the need for new human hires. A Goldman Sachs analysis in 2023 estimated that globally, the equivalent of 300 million full-time jobs could be impacted by generative AI automation. In both Austria and Türkiye, one can observe the early stages of this displacement: banks and telecom companies deploying AI chatbots instead of expanding call centers, factories introducing AI-driven robotics, media outlets using AI for content generation in lieu of junior writers, and so forth. The systemic outcome is that capital can continue to accumulate (profits, data, market dominance) even as the traditional link between growth and broad job creation is severed. Gen Z comes of age in this milieu of growing output but narrowing opportunities – a structural contradiction that underpins their initiation crisis.

The Disappearance of Entry-Level and Intellectual Jobs – A Blow to Youth Identity Formation

One of the clearest signs of this crisis is the elimination of entry-level positions and junior intellectual roles that young people historically filled as they began their careers. Entry-level jobs have long been a rite of passage – a way for youth to acquire skills, prove themselves, and gain a foothold in adult working life. They also carry an important identity function: the novice journalist, the junior analyst, the trainee engineer – all start to see themselves as part of a profession or community through these roles. Now, AI is eroding those rungs on the ladder.

A striking illustration comes from a recent global survey of employers: nearly 4 in 10 HR leaders (37%) said they would rather hire a robot or AI to do a job than hire a recent college graduate. Even in the face of talent shortages, 89% of organizations admitted they avoid hiring newly graduated young workers. These astonishing figures, from a Hult International Business School study in 2025, reflect a deep-seated shift in employer calculus. If an AI system can perform the routine tasks typically assigned to fresh hires – data entry, basic research, drafting reports – companies seem willing to bypass the human beginner altogether. Indeed, three in ten HR leaders (OECD Report) would prefer to leave a junior position unfilled rather than hire a Gen Z candidate. The reasons cited range from lack of experience to perceived skill gaps, but the upshot is clear: the traditional entry-level pipeline is constricting. Another survey found that 78% of hiring managers predict AI will allow them to cut back on internships and entry-level roles in the coming years. This is not merely hypothetical – concrete forecasts suggest that over the next 5 years, AI-driven automation could eliminate over half (56%) of current entry-level knowledge-worker positions worldwide. In other words, a majority of those junior analyst, assistant, or trainee jobs that college-educated Gen Z workers would normally step into may vanish by the late 2020s if present trends hold.

Beyond corporate surveys, empirical evidence of displacement is mounting. For example, major financial firms are experimenting with AI to replace first-year banking analysts for tasks like PowerPoint pitch books and Excel modeling – roles once infamous as overworked entry jobs for young graduates. Law firms are using AI tools for document review and due diligence, potentially reducing the need for armies of junior associates. Media and marketing companies are increasingly relying on generative AI to produce drafts, social media copy, or design mockups – work often done by interns or junior creatives (Turkish youth unhappy, in debt, want to move abroad: Survey). OpenAI’s CTO was quoted as saying that AI will inevitably kill certain “creative jobs that shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” suggesting that many content-creation roles might be viewed as expendable in light of AI’s capabilities. While that is a controversial stance, it encapsulates a mindset taking hold: why pay a young worker to do menial creative or analytical tasks when an AI can do 80% of the job instantly and cheaply?

This trend poses a grave problem for youth identity formation. Erik Erikson’s psychosocial theories long ago identified young adulthood as a stage of figuring out one’s identity and role in society (versus role confusion). In modern societies, work is a central arena for that – it provides structure, a peer group, a sense of contribution, and, gradually, professional confidence. Losing entry-level jobs means losing the normal route of entry into adult identity as a worker. It is not just about income; it’s about recognition and belonging. A recent Deloitte global survey found that Millennials and Gen Z are acutely aware of this threat: those familiar with generative AI at work believe it will make it more difficult for younger generations to enter the workforce, precisely because AI is automating “many of the… manual tasks that entry-level workers typically do.” The small tasks and grunt work that used to be delegated to the newcomer are now being handled by algorithms, leaving the newcomer with little to do – or no position at all.
(OECD Report on Social Mobility in Austria)

For Generation Z in Türkiye, the evaporation of entry-level opportunities is especially demoralizing. Even before the AI boom, Turkish youth often struggled with a system that valued seniority and connections (nepotism can be a factor in hiring) and suffered from periods of high unemployment. Now, if multinational firms or even large local companies in Türkiye implement AI solutions, they may trim the number of interns or junior staff they take on. Türkiye’s economy also has a sizeable informal sector; many youths end up in informal, low-paid work if formal jobs are scarce. The encroachment of AI could reduce formal sector openings further, pushing more young people into gig work or outright joblessness.

In Austria, while the labor market is more robust, university graduates have faced increasing competition and a need for extended credentials (postgraduate degrees, etc.) to stand out. If AI lowers the demand even for well-educated entrants, some Austrian Gen Z individuals might find themselves stuck in protracted education or accepting jobs below their qualification level. Austria’s strong apprenticeship programs might shield those in trades from some AI effects for now (as many skilled manual trades are less immediately affected), but even those fields will evolve with AI (e.g., smart systems in manufacturing), requiring constant upskilling.

Crucially, it’s not only routine entry jobs at risk – intellectual and creative entry roles are also affected, striking at the heart of Gen Z’s aspirations. Many young people dream of making a mark in fields like journalism, design, programming, research, or art. These are not “make-work” jobs; they are deeply tied to personal passions and the hope to contribute culturally or scientifically.
(Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression)

But AI is encroaching here as well. A content-writing AI can draft a news report or blog post; a code-generation AI can handle basic programming tasks that a junior coder would do; DALL-E and similar tools can generate graphics or illustrations without a junior artist. Illustrators worldwide have reported clients dropping them in favor of AI-generated art for concept designs and storyboards. Academic and scientific circles are debating whether AI will reduce the need for research assistants for literature reviews and data analysis. All this means that Gen Z’s first forays into creative/intellectual labor are being devalued. The social message implicitly being sent is: “We don’t need your beginner-level creativity or input; the machine can do it. Come back when you have experience – if you ever get it.” This Catch-22 undermines the very process by which one gains experience.

Thus, a vicious cycle emerges: Gen Z finds the “door” into careers closing.
(Turkish youth unhappy, in debt, want to move abroad: Survey)

Those who do manage to get a start often encounter workplaces that are leaner and more automated, where they must compete with AI or constantly prove their value-add over algorithms. The psychological toll of this, as we explore next, is significant. Youth identity formation is stalled – the promising graduate or talented young artist may end up in a series of gig jobs or unemployed, struggling to form an adult identity independent of their family. Instead of feeling like a budding professional, many feel like failures before they’ve even begun, internalizing the message that they are “not needed” in the economy. The long-term societal cost of wasting the talents and energies of a generation is incalculable. As Lacanian psychoanalysis would put it, the symbolic mandate “You are the next generation; you will do better” has been replaced by an inert silence or a foreclosure – a missing symbolic place for the youth. This creates a gap in the social order into which anxiety rushes.


Economic Isolation and Psychological Burnout

With traditional employment pathways obstructed, many Gen Z individuals are experiencing economic isolation – a state of disconnection from stable economic roles and institutions.
(OECD Report on Social Mobility in Austria)

Instead of graduating into a steady job with coworkers, mentorship, and a clear trajectory, a young person today may find themselves hopping between short-term gigs, freelancing alone from home, or drifting in unemployment. In Türkiye, it is common for 20-somethings to remain financially dependent on parents because they cannot secure sufficient income to live independently. In Austria, even with a stronger safety net, more youths are cycling through internships or part-time roles that don’t provide the security or community that a full-time career once did.

This isolation is not just financial; it is social. Workplaces have historically been a key site of socialization for young adults – a source of friends, routine, and a sense of being part of something. Precarious or solo employment (like platform gig work or remote freelancing) offers little of that. The COVID-19 pandemic already accelerated remote and gig models; now AI threatens to make such arrangements permanent for many – or to exclude youth entirely. The result is a growing cohort of young people who feel economically “out of the loop,” watching from the sidelines as the productive economy hums on without them.

This economic marginalization feeds directly into psychological distress. Numerous surveys and studies have flagged Gen Z as a generation reporting alarming levels of stress, anxiety, depression, and burnout. While there are multiple factors (climate change fears, pandemic aftermath, social media pressures), economic precarity and work-related angst rank high among them. In fact, Gen Z workers consistently report worse mental health outcomes than older cohorts. A recent poll found that 46% of Gen Z employees feel stressed on a daily basis, compared to 35% of workers overall. Likewise, 35% of Gen Z employees reported experiencing depression, versus 20% among older employees. These are striking differences. Another study focusing on young employees (around ages 21–25) concluded that Gen Z feels “more stressed,” “more depressed,” “more burned out,” and “more isolated” than the average employee.

In essence, Gen Z’s early entrants to the workforce are the least happy and most overwhelmed – a paradox, since youth is typically thought of as a time of optimism and energy. But the data bear out what many observe: burnout is hitting people harder. By their mid-20s, many Gen Zers already feel exhausted and cynical – a stage that previous generations might have reached in their 40s after decades of work. Now it comes after just a couple of years (or even without having secured a real job at all).
(The Post-Human Desert – Opinion)

The causes of this burnout are intimately connected to the AI–late-capitalism cocktail. First, those who are employed often face unrealistic pressures. Companies adopting AI may expect a single young worker to do what used to be done by a team (since the AI supposedly boosts productivity), leading to overwork and constant surveillance. Digital tools can track performance in real time, and algorithmic management can be unforgiving. Second, pervasive job insecurity means even those with jobs are anxious about losing them – possibly to an AI upgrade or to cost-cutting. This insecurity breeds chronic stress. Third, those stuck in the gig economy must hustle for every contract, often juggling multiple gigs with no benefits or paid leave – a recipe for burnout. And for the unemployed or NEET youth, the psychological toll of idleness and financial strain can be severe: feelings of guilt, social withdrawal, and despair that one’s life isn’t moving forward.
(Gen Z and Millennials on AI Impact – Deloitte Insights)
(AI’s Impact on Income Inequality – Brookings)

In Türkiye, economic anxiety among youth is extremely high. A 2020 national survey found that fully 50% of Turkish youth described themselves as unhappy, and the number one reason they cited was financial distress. A stunning 86% of respondents said they were currently in debt – a reflection of how many resort to borrowing (or are burdened by education loans, credit card debt, etc.) to get by. This precarious financial state leaves young people feeling trapped and hopeless – a condition Turkish commentators have termed a “lost generation” risk. It is telling that three-quarters of Turkish youth (76.2%) said they would move abroad if given the chance, with the majority saying their motive would be “for a better future.” The drive to emigrate – to escape the local economy – is itself a symptom of extreme economic isolation and disillusionment.

Brain drain has accelerated: many educated Gen Z Turks are indeed leaving for Europe or North America, seeking the stable jobs and living standards they cannot find at home. Those who remain often live with prolonged uncertainty, contributing to what Turkish psychologists note as rising rates of depression and even suicidality in recent years.
(Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression – VOA News)

Austria’s situation is less dramatic on the surface, thanks to stronger social welfare and lower unemployment, but even Austrian Gen Z reports high stress. The Deloitte Global Survey noted earlier also found widespread uncertainty among Austrian (and European) young workers about AI – uncertainty which often manifests as anxiety. Moreover, Austrian youth are not immune to the broader global cultural pressures that fuel burnout: always-on digital life and comparisons via social media, the need to constantly upskill to stay relevant, etc. A European study on stress showed that young adults (ages 18–34) were more likely to report feeling “completely overwhelmed” by stress than older groups.

Financial worries were a key stressor even in affluent countries. For example, about half of people in working-age households across OECD countries (which includes Austria) are now considered “financially fragile,” meaning they would struggle to maintain their living standards if their income stopped for a short period. This insecurity, combined with the fear of looming automation, creates a mental strain that saps motivation. In Austria, where the social model once promised a high degree of stability, young people now see that promise weakening – leading to growing anxiety about the future.

One particular psychological pattern observed is “pre-burnout” or anticipatory burnout – Gen Zers feel drained not only from present challenges but from the constant worry about an uncertain future. In the workplace, some manifest a kind of fatalistic disengagement (sometimes mislabeled as laziness by older managers). There is even a statistic that grabbed headlines: roughly 46% of Gen Z would rather have no job than a job that makes them unhappy. While on its face that can sound entitled, it actually reflects a coping mechanism. Young people have seen the toll work stress took on their parents; they are already mentally exhausted from instability. So if a job is miserable and unsustainable, nearly half would choose to opt out (living on savings, parents, or welfare) rather than sacrifice mental health.

This is a rational response to an irrational situation – essentially, burnout culture. In a PwC survey mentioned by Fortune, 4 in 10 Gen Z respondents globally said they’d quit a job even without another lined up and try to “survive on unemployment benefits” if work pressures mounted too high. Such choices further feed into economic isolation (voluntarily stepping out of the labor force), but from the Gen Z perspective, it can seem like the only way to reclaim sanity in a system that otherwise grinds them down.

In summary, Gen Z is caught in a pincer: excluded from many stable opportunities (Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression) and exploited or overburdened in the opportunities they do get. The outcome in both cases is psychological distress. Burnout, once associated with mid-life and high-power careers, is now common vocabulary for people in their early twenties. Chronic anxiety – about making ends meet, about finding any meaningful job, about being replaced by a machine – has become a defining trait of their generation.

The long-term implications are dire: we risk seeing a generation withered before it fully blossoms, its creative and productive potential hampered by mental health challenges. And mental health is not only an individual issue; when an entire age cohort feels disaffected and stressed, the social fabric frays. Trust in institutions erodes (we will see below how Turkish youth overwhelmingly feel political parties ignore them), and a sense of community and solidarity can break down. This lays the groundwork for the next aspects of the crisis: lost motivation, blocked social roles, and alienation.


Erosion of Motivation and Blocked Social Role Initiation

In classical psychoanalytic terms, human drives need to be invested in goals and projects; if that investment falters, people experience apathy and aimlessness. Across Türkiye and Austria, many Gen Z youth report a disturbing erosion of motivation. The pervasive sentiment is: “Why bother?” Why strive at school if your degree leads to nothing? Why commit to a career path if it might not exist in a decade? Why form long-term plans under such uncertainty?

This nihilistic undertow is borne out by surveys. According to the American Psychological Association’s Stress in America report, over half (55%) of Gen Z adults reported “a lack of interest, motivation or energy” in their daily lives.
(Sublimation – No Subject: Encyclopedia of Lacanian Psychoanalysis)

This is a telling indicator: when more than half of a generation feels a persistent motivational deficit, it signals a breakdown in the normal engine that drives young people to pursue goals. This erosion of motivation is tied to blocked social role initiation. By “role initiation,” we mean the process of assuming the social roles of adulthood – becoming a self-sufficient worker, a contributor to community, perhaps a spouse or parent, but fundamentally seeing oneself as an adult member of society.

Gen Z’s transition into these roles has been jammed by circumstances. If one imagines the journey to adulthood as a corridor of open doors – education, then entry-level job, then increasing responsibility, forming one’s own household, etc. – many Gen Z youth find those doors closed or only half-open. The result is a prolongation of adolescent dependence and a sense of not having “permission” to grow up.

In both Austria and Türkiye, a rising share of young adults remain living with their parents well into their twenties, not entirely by choice but because they lack the financial stability to move out. Without a stable job and income, one cannot easily take on traditional adult roles. This delay in “launching” has been observed for Millennials too, but Gen Z faces an even more acute version. Sociologists sometimes speak of a new life phase, “emerging adulthood,” where people in their twenties feel in-between – no longer children, but not yet securely adults.

What makes the Gen Z case a crisis rather than a mere life-stage shift is the risk of being stuck indefinitely. Some Turkish commentators use the term “Genç İşi Yok” (literally “no work for youth”) to describe a generation looping in internships or idleness. A Turkish youth in their late 20s who still must ask parents for pocket money because every job prospect has fallen through will understandably lose the internal drive that comes from feeling one’s efforts matter. Likewise, an Austrian young person who has done everything “right” – earned a degree, taken trainings – but only lands short-term contracts will eventually question the point of striving.

Indeed, the APA’s research on Gen Z stress found not just lack of motivation but also high levels of hopelessness and crying spells among youth facing chronic stress. These are classic symptoms of disempowerment.


The infantilization effect cannot be overstated: society is implicitly asking young people to remain children (living at home, financially dependent, not wielding social power) far longer than previous generations – but without the emotional support or societal validation that true children receive. Instead of structured rites of passage into adulthood, Gen Z often encounters what we might call “anti-rites” – experiences that undermine confidence and agency.

For example, consider the ritual of finishing one’s education and getting that first “real job” – a proud moment that signals one’s adult identity. If that job never comes, the ritual is aborted. The young person stays in a kind of limbo, often occupying a social role vis-à-vis their parents and elders that is closer to a teenager than an independent adult. In Türkiye, it is commonplace to hear elders refer to well-educated but jobless youth as “çocuk” (child) or “ev genci” (house youth), subtly or overtly conveying that they are not yet full adults deserving of respect in decision-making. In Austria, the cultural tones are different, but a 25-year-old living in their childhood room due to underemployment may share a similar internal sentiment of being “left behind” in adolescence.


Another dimension of this is the erosion of ambition. Human aspirations are fueled by some expectation of reward or at least progress. When Gen Z sees the lack of upward mobility (as discussed in the next section) and the high likelihood of precarious careers, many temper their ambitions. Some respond by shifting goals – prioritizing work-life balance or personal projects over traditional careers – which can be healthy, but others simply disengage.

Employers have noticed this: surveys often misinterpret it as laziness or disloyalty among Gen Z employees, but it can be seen instead as a rational withdrawal of investment. If the game is rigged or the prize absent, why play? As one global study put it, Gen Z “craves stability and trust” precisely because those elements are missing. Without a stable structure to plug into, their considerable talents and energies scatter or remain latent.


The mental health consequences of blocked initiation are severe. Clinical psychologists observe that many emerging adults suffer from a kind of extended identity crisis (reminiscent of Erikson’s concept of “role confusion”). This often manifests as anxiety disorders and depression. For instance, being unable to envision a satisfying future – whether in career or family life – can lead to what psychiatrists call “adjustment disorders” or even clinical depression.

Data on rising youth depression, as highlighted in one study, showed a 60%+ increase in rates of adolescent and young adult depression over the last decade. While the causes are multifaceted, the socio-economic blockages are a major contributor: it’s hard to be psychologically well when the societal script that provided meaning to your parents (“get an education, work hard, you will succeed”) no longer seems to apply.

One poignant aspect is the sense of guilt or personal failure that many youths internalize. Rather than seeing the structural nature of the problem, individuals often blame themselves: “If I can’t get a job, maybe I’m just not good enough; maybe I did something wrong.” This is reinforced by the social narrative that young people need to “hustle” or “polish their personal brand” – implying that those who don’t succeed have only themselves to blame. It’s the classic neoliberal ideology of individual responsibility taken to a cruel extreme. Žižek might call this the obscene superego injunction of late capitalism: an inner voice telling youth that if they aren’t making it, it’s because they are lazy or insufficient – even as the external reality denies them chances. The result is a generation that oscillates between anxiety (striving harder, burning out) and resignation (dropping out, numbness). Neither state is conducive to healthy participation in society.

In concrete social terms, what we see is fewer young people taking on traditional adult roles like marriage or parenthood at the age their parents did. Birth rates among young adults are dropping (partly by choice, partly by circumstance) – a trend especially noticeable in developed countries like Austria, but also now in Türkiye’s urban centers, as economic hardship dissuades family formation. Community involvement among youth is also down; feeling alienated, they are less likely to join civic organizations or even labor unions. In Türkiye, a survey found that nearly 80% of youth felt that no political party addresses their needs – reflecting a profound disconnection from the political process. In Austria, youth voter turnout and engagement fluctuate, but there is a noted disenchantment with mainstream politics, sometimes driving youth toward either apathy or support for anti-establishment movements.

All of this paints a picture of blocked social integration. The traditional ladder into society – job, community role, family – has missing rungs or is shaky, and many young people are hesitating to climb. Without intervention, this blockage can have lasting effects: a cohort that does not “initiate” on time can carry that scarring forward, even if conditions later improve. They may remain risk-averse, less entrepreneurial, less trusting of society. From a psychoanalytic perspective, the failure of symbolic initiation can leave one prone to acting out or getting stuck in repetitive, unproductive cycles – one reason we see phenomena like “mass resignation” or the embrace of nihilistic internet subcultures among some youths worldwide.

In sum, Gen Z’s struggle is not laziness or narcissism, as unfair stereotypes sometimes claim; it is learned helplessness in the face of systemic barriers. They have energy and ideas – witness how many turn to passion projects, activism, or content creation on their own – but the formal socio-economic system offers them too few channels to translate that into a recognized adult role. This is a loss not only for the individuals but for society, which misses out on the full contribution of an entire generation.


Vanishing Social Mobility and the Loss of Belonging

Another facet of Gen Z’s initiation crisis is the collapse of the narrative of progress – the idea that each generation will do better than the last. For much of the 20th century, there was an implicit social contract: if you work hard, you’ll achieve at least as comfortable a life as your parents, if not better. This promise has broken down, and young people keenly feel it. Intergenerational social mobility – the ability to rise to a higher socioeconomic status than one’s family of origin – has stagnated or reversed in many societies.

According to OECD analyses, countries like Austria have limited social mobility in international comparison, with earnings being “slightly more persistent across generations in Austria than the OECD average.” In practical terms, this means a child from a low-income Austrian family is quite likely to remain low-income as an adult, and a child of a wealthy family will likely stay wealthy. The “social elevator” is slow and often inaccessible to those at the bottom.

In Türkiye, social mobility is also very constrained, although for somewhat different historical reasons – including issues of educational access, regional disparities, and the dominance of family corporations and patronage networks in the economy.
(Turkish youth unhappy, in debt, want to move abroad: Survey)

The commonality is that Gen Z looks upward and sees a glass ceiling: the ladder of success that their grandparents climbed (often with fewer credentials but more opportunity) is now pulled up.

This engenders a profound loss of belonging and trust in the social order. Belonging, here, means feeling that one has a valued place in the grand scheme – that you are a stakeholder in your society, and that society is in turn invested in you. When mobility stalls, society starts to stratify into fixed layers, and those stuck at the bottom or middle may feel a sense of otherness or exclusion.

One symptom is the fraying of the intergenerational bond: young people sense that older generations, currently in power, are not making room for them. In the Türkiye survey cited above, 81% of youth said “grown-ups don’t understand them” or understand them very little. This points to a generational estrangement. Austrian youth, while perhaps less vocal in such surveys, have expressed through various means (youth forums, climate protests, etc.) that they feel decisions are made by an older cohort without considering youth’s future – for example, insufficient action on climate change or housing affordability, issues that will acutely affect young people’s lives.

Intergenerational mobility isn’t just an economic metric; it ties deeply into hope and meaning. If a Gen Z individual believes they have no chance to achieve the life goals that society taught them to value – a stable job, home ownership, a secure retirement – then their sense of belonging to that society erodes. Why participate or defend a system that offers no pathway to your advancement or recognition?

This can breed resentment (sometimes manifesting politically) or withdrawal (young people “checking out” from civic participation or even emigrating, as noted). One telling statistic from an OECD report: only 16% of people in Austria expected their financial situation to improve in the coming years – a very low level of optimism. If young Austrians share that pessimism (and they likely do, given global youth surveys), it indicates they largely do not see themselves climbing the ladder their parents climbed.

In Türkiye, given the economic turbulence of recent years – including very high inflation and currency crises – even middle-class families have lost security, and their Gen Z children often expect to be worse off than their parents, not better. This reversal of fortunes is psychologically jarring.

Furthermore, the meritocratic ideal has taken a hit. Gen Z increasingly questions whether meritocracy ever truly existed, as they witness peers’ outcomes being determined more by connections or family wealth than by talent. In Türkiye, it is an open secret that nepotism can secure jobs; even in Austria, networking often trumps open competition for the best positions. If one internalizes that meritocracy is a myth, the incentive to exert oneself academically or professionally diminishes – again feeding into the motivation crisis. And if success is seen as reserved for the already privileged, the sense of societal belonging among the less privileged nosedives.

Sociologist Robert Merton long ago discussed how blocked opportunities can lead to anomie – a breakdown of social norms and values. We see hints of anomie in how some youths either reject the system (turning to countercultures or radical politics) or numb themselves with escapism (gaming, internet addictions, etc.), having lost belief in the mainstream pathways.

Feelings of belonging also come from cultural and communal inclusion, not just economic inclusion. But here too, Gen Z faces challenges. Traditional community structures (religious institutions, local clubs, unions) have seen declining youth membership in many places. Those were once places where a young person could plug into a multi-generational community and find mentorship or purpose. Now, much of that communal life has either shifted online or dissipated. While online communities can offer some solace, they often lack the tangible support and identity affirmation that physical communities provide.

A 2018 survey by an international health insurer provocatively labeled Gen Z “the loneliest generation.” They scored highest on the UCLA Loneliness Scale, meaning many lack a sense of close connections and belonging. The irony of being hyper-connected digitally yet feeling isolated personally is not lost on them.

In psycho-social terms, belonging is about feeling needed and accepted. The workplace used to provide a portion of that (you belonged to “Team Company”), as did civic groups. With those ties weakening, many Gen Zers feel adrift – like independent contractors not only in jobs but in life: autonomous, perhaps, but alone.

In Türkiye, the traditional sense of belonging was often tied to family and the nation (patriotic or religious identity). But family structures are under strain when young adults cannot contribute economically or choose to live abroad, and national pride can sour if the country is seen as failing to provide for its youth. The fact that so many Turkish youths wish to leave their homeland out of desperation is a worrying sign of alienation.

In Austria, nationalism is less pronounced among youth, but there is pride in social stability and culture. However, if young people see themselves excluded from “the good life” Austria once promised (for example, if they can never afford a home in Vienna due to skyrocketing real estate prices), that pride and belonging may give way to frustration.

All these trends also undermine social cohesion and solidarity. Low mobility and high inequality can create a sense of a zero-sum society, where each generation or class looks out for itself. Gen Z might perceive Baby Boomers or Gen X as hoarding wealth and opportunity (e.g., holding onto secure jobs longer, driving up housing costs), while older folks might unfairly caricature Gen Z as entitled or work-shy.

Such mutual distrust further fractures any feeling of a common social fabric. The OECD warns that low social mobility is harmful not only economically but socially: it “affects individual life satisfaction and well-being, and matters for social cohesion and democratic participation.” In other words, if young people do not feel they belong or can get ahead in society, they disengage – which can weaken democracy and community life.

We already see youth turnout in elections being volatile. Some elections witness strong youth engagement (often to protest the status quo), while others are marked by apathy. In Türkiye’s recent elections, young voters were courted by all parties, but a significant number expressed disillusionment, believing that no matter who wins, their economic plight remains unaddressed. In Austria, youth disillusionment can be quieter but is evidenced by rising mental health issues and occasional protest spurts (like the Fridays for Future climate strikes, where youth essentially said they have to take collective action because the older generation in power failed to protect their future).

In summary, the disappearance of the belief in progress and fair mobility has done deep damage to Gen Z’s psyche and their sense of membership in society. A Turkish Gen Z respondent perhaps put it most bluntly: “We feel like we have no future here.” That statement combines lack of mobility (no future upward) and lack of belonging (no future here, in this community). When a generation feels that en masse, it is a clarion call that the social contract has broken down for them.


Futurelessness, Insecurity, and Alienation

All the factors discussed culminate in a prevailing atmosphere of “futurelessness” – a term that encapsulates the feeling of having no viable or positive future trajectory. This is perhaps the most haunting aspect of Gen Z’s crisis, because a loss of the future is a loss of the very element that typically energizes youth: hope.

Cultural theorist Mark Fisher once talked about the “slow cancellation of the future,” describing how neoliberal capitalism robbed young people of the ability to imagine progressive alternatives. With AI-driven late capitalism, this cancellation seems to be accelerating. It’s not just that Gen Z struggles to imagine a utopian future; many struggle to imagine even a personally bearable one.

Slavoj Žižek, in The Post-Human Desert, warns that if we continue on the current path, we risk a scenario where humans – especially those not at the top of the AI-driven hierarchy – become irrelevant, and life becomes meaningless. He notes that our worldview could lose its defining coordinates – the sense of humans as masters of their fate, of nature as a given backdrop, of any higher purpose – resulting in an “abyss that awaits us.”

Žižek’s dramatic phrasing of human irrelevance and meaninglessness is effectively the philosophical translation of what many Gen Z individuals report feeling on a personal level. It’s the sense that “nothing I do will matter, the world is careening out of control, and I am just a bystander.” In interviews and social media posts, young people across countries express variations of this despair: “The future looks bleak,” “We’ve been dealt a bad hand,” “I don’t think I’ll be able to have the life my parents had.”

Insecurity pervades their lives. Economic insecurity (gig economy, contract work, lack of savings) combines with environmental and political insecurity (climate crisis, global instability) to create a constant background worry. A Deloitte 2023 survey found that a large majority of Gen Z worldwide are concerned that automation and AI will only increase economic inequality and make it harder for them to find jobs. Half of Americans (including young adults) believe AI will lead to greater income inequality and societal polarization.

When nearly everything about one’s adulthood feels precarious – “Will I have a job next year? Will I be able to afford rent? Is the planet going to be livable?” – it is hard to plan for or believe in the future. Instead, short-termism takes hold (live day by day), or paralyzing anxiety does.

Alienation is the classical Marxist term for the estrangement of people from their work, their product, and their community under capitalism. Here we see a new twist: alienation from a techno-economic system that seems autonomous and inhuman. Gen Z often feels alienated not only from their work (especially when it’s dull or exploitative gig work), but from the entire societal structure.

The algorithms and AI that influence their lives – from opaque social media feeds impacting their mental health, to automated hiring systems rejecting their job applications without human contact – are experienced as alien forces, not something they have a say in. They are subjects under what Žižek might call the “Big Other” of algorithmic systems – inscrutable, omnipresent, and indifferent. This breeds a sense of powerlessness and estrangement: the system is not for us; it’s imposed on us.

The loneliness epidemic ties in as well. Many Gen Z individuals report feeling profoundly alone, even when surrounded by others.
(A New Social Contract for the Age of Artificial Intelligence – Defend Democracy)
(We Need a New Social Contract – Big Think)

This existential loneliness is part of alienation – a feeling of not being understood or valued. In Türkiye’s case, the phrase “Biz geleceğimizi göremiyoruz” (“We cannot see our future”) is often heard among youth, encapsulating both temporal alienation (from their future selves) and social alienation (from a society that seems not to care about their future).

In Austria, mental health practitioners have flagged that more young clients talk about a kind of emptiness and directionlessness that goes beyond typical youthful confusion. It is a depressive outlook where they feel a lack of place and purpose.

We should also note the role of ethical and linguistic alienation due to AI. Lacanian theory stresses the importance of the symbolic order – language, shared values – in giving coherence to human life. With AI increasingly generating language (from chatbot dialogues to deepfake news), there is a subtle but growing sense that the symbolic space itself is being crowded by something other.

For instance, when a student has an AI write their essay, what does that mean for the student’s relationship to expression and authenticity? Some Gen Z students feel guilty or conflicted using AI tools, as if it’s hollowing out their own voice. Others, conversely, feel that the proliferation of AI-generated content in media makes it harder to find truth or meaning, leading to cynicism (“everything is automated propaganda or clickbait”).

This linguistic alienation – not being sure whether words and creations are coming from a human place of meaning or from machine regurgitation – is a new psychological frontier. It contributes to the sense of an uncanny, dehumanized world.

All of these threads – hopelessness, insecurity, alienation – feed back into the initiation crisis: without hope, why initiate into a system? Without security, how can one risk transitions? Feeling alienated, why identify with society’s adult roles? We are at risk of a generation essentially detaching from core social institutions.

Already we see lower marriage rates, lower religious participation, new forms of transient living (digital nomads with no ties), and even movements like “antiwork” on social forums, where young people question the very premise of wage labor as the center of life. These can be read either as symptoms of alienation or as attempts to cope with it by redefining what a meaningful life could be outside the traditional model.

At its extreme, futurelessness can lead to devastating outcomes. The rising youth suicide rates in many countries – including technologically advanced ones – are a grim indicator that some young people see literally no future for themselves. For example, youth suicide in the U.S. reached its highest recorded rate in decades by the late 2010s. While causes vary, epidemiologists cite societal pressures and hopelessness as key factors.

In Türkiye, anecdotal reports have linked economic despair to suicides among young university graduates in recent years. Austria’s suicide rates among youth are lower (thanks in part to good healthcare and social safety nets), but the feelings of despair are present, as evidenced by surveys on youth happiness.

In sum, Gen Z’s portrait can look very dark – and indeed, many are in a dark place. But we must be careful not to paint the generation as passive victims only. There are also signs of resistance and resilience: youth-led climate activism, new forms of entrepreneurship (many Gen Zers try to start side businesses or creative enterprises, refusing to rely on corporate career paths), and openness about mental health (reducing stigma, seeking help).

These are rays of hope but they do not negate the structural issues. Rather, they highlight that young people are trying to find or create meaning in spite of a system that often denies it. (What is a Discussion of Sublimation Doing in Lacan’s Seminar VII?, Sublimation)

Which brings us to the theoretical lens of Lacanian sublimation, and how AI’s rise intersects with the ability of a generation to find meaning.


Colonization of the Symbolic: AI, Sublimation, and Das Ding

Jacques Lacan’s theory of sublimation, particularly as discussed in Seminar VII, provides a profound way to understand what is being lost in this crisis.

Sublimation, in simple terms, is the process by which raw human drives – the chaotic energy of desires and instincts – are transformed into refined, socially valued creations and activities: art, intellectual pursuits, meaningful work, love, etc. Lacan famously said that sublimation “raises an object to the dignity of the Thing.”

“The Thing” (das Ding), in Lacan’s use, refers to an unattainable absolute object of desire – a sort of void or absence around which desire circulates. It is something that cannot be fully grasped or represented, except by emptiness.

“This Thing… will always be represented by emptiness, precisely because it cannot be represented by anything else,” writes Lacan. Yet paradoxically, it is this empty core that drives us to create – we fill the emptiness with art, ideas, acts of love, ethical projects, attempting to give form to what has no form.

That is sublimation: turning the nothing into something elevated.

Why is this relevant? Because what we are witnessing with AI’s encroachment is a potential dismantling of the spaces of sublimation. Intellectual labor, artistic creation, ethical decision-making – these are domains where humans have traditionally sublimated their drives into culturally meaningful contributions. They are also precisely the domains that advanced AI is beginning to penetrate.

Generative AI writes, paints, and composes; AI systems increasingly assist in (or even autonomously make) decisions that have ethical weight – such as medical diagnoses or loan approvals. In Lacanian terms, AI is colonizing the symbolic order – the order of language, culture, and signification – which has been the playground for human creativity and sublimation.

Consider the implications: if a young person’s creative impulse can be instantly outmatched by a machine, or if their idea is immediately generated by a chatbot, the incentive and reward of engaging in those creative, meaning-making activities diminish.
(The Post-Human Desert – Opinion)

Creation becomes a consumer choice (prompt an AI to make something for you) rather than a hard-won personal journey. Some Gen Z artists and writers have voiced exactly this concern – that their work feels less theirs or less worthwhile in a world flooded by AI-generated content. The act of writing a poem, for instance, used to be a deeply personal attempt to capture one’s desire and communicate it. Now, with a few clicks, anyone can produce a passable poem on any theme via AI.
(A New Social Contract for the Age of Artificial Intelligence – Defend Democracy)

What does that do to a poet’s sense of purpose? Unless one is exceptionally driven or talented, one might simply shrug and say, “Why write, when a bot can do it?” This is the erosion of sublimation in real time.

Lacan notes that in sublimation, emptiness is determinative – we create because of a lack, a gap, a désir. If AI fills every gap with facile content, the risk is a kind of symbolic saturation that leaves no empty space to spark human desire. It’s like having a library so infinite and instantly accessible that one loses the desire to write a new book.

Of course, one could argue AI is just a tool and humans can still find originality and gaps beyond it – and that is certainly possible. But for many, especially those just starting out, AI presents as a superegoic force saying: “It’s already been done. The space is crowded. Your effort is redundant.” The danger is a generation foregoing sublimation and falling into either banal enjoyment (endless consumption of generated content) or into what Lacan would consider perverse or neurotic substitutes – since drives don’t vanish, they might reappear in destructive forms if not sublimated.

Moreover, Lacan’s concept of das Ding as the structuring absence is illuminating when we think of AI as potentially the Thing itself in a new form. Das Ding is like the forgotten primal object, the Other beyond symbolization that we orbit around. One could interpret AI – especially a hypothetical future super-intelligent AI – as a new Thing: an inhuman presence that commands our attention and fascination, yet is ultimately an absence in terms of human meaning.

It lacks the human element of subjectivity, yet we project fantasies onto it (as omniscient, or as monstrous, or as savior). AI could become a structuring absence in that it forces us to recognize what is missing in our socio-symbolic universe. If all our language and art can be mimicked by a machine, what then is distinctly human? Perhaps it is precisely the lack, the vulnerability, the presence of jouissance (Lacanian enjoyment linked with pain) that a machine cannot have.

AI might highlight by contrast what Lacan called “the lack in the Other” – showing that the Big Other of technology is ultimately lacking the essence of the human condition, which is mortal, desirous, and ethically responsible.

From a Žižekian angle, one might say that AI lays bare the fantasy of a complete Other that knows everything or can do everything. As AI systems pretend to answer every question (think of the allure of asking ChatGPT anything), they risk becoming a sort of “subject supposed to know,” undermining the human symbolic network (teachers, experts, peers) that used to fulfill that function.

Žižek might warn that this displaces the locus of knowledge outside the human community, which could either lead to new forms of ideology or to a collapse of meaning – if people cynically assume the machine is always right, or that nothing matters since even creativity is mechanized.

However, here lies a potential paradoxical solution as well: if AI is seen as das Ding, a void of genuine human meaning, then recognizing it as such could galvanize a new appreciation for human uniqueness. In Lacan’s ethics, the presence of das Ding (the Thing) is what pushes us to create ethics and art in the first place – to negotiate that void.

Likewise, the advent of AI might force society to explicitly ask: What is meaningful human work? What is irreducibly human? These questions have long been abstract, but now they are practical. For example, if AI handles diagnoses, the human doctor’s role might shift to empathetic communication and care – aspects of the healing art that require human touch.

If AI churns out average paintings, perhaps truly personal art that bears the mark of human experience gains renewed value. Indeed, we already see some young artists doubling down on handmade crafts and analog experiences as a counter-trend to digitalization.

In short, AI could inadvertently reveal the emptiness at the heart of purely technical efficiency and provoke a cultural movement to reassert the importance of human-driven sublimation.

But this optimistic turn will not happen automatically. Right now, we are on a path where AI’s colonization of the symbolic is mostly dismantling sublimation – with nothing to replace it. Young people are left with drives that have nowhere to go, leading to either internal collapse (depression) or external aggression (online hate, scapegoating of immigrants, or other perceived causes of their plight).

One can even read the surge of extremist or conspiracy movements among some youth as a misguided attempt to find meaning and belonging – an outlet for drives – when constructive outlets are unavailable. The psychoanalytic lens thus makes the stakes clear: a society that does not offer its youth channels for sublimation will harvest chaos, because drives will seek expression one way or another.


Comparative Perspectives: Gen Z in Türkiye vs. Austria

While the overarching dynamics of the AI-driven initiation crisis affect Gen Z globally, the lived experience in Türkiye and Austria exhibits some notable differences due to socio-economic and cultural contexts. Understanding these contrasts can help tailor solutions and highlight that this is not a one-size-fits-all crisis, even if it has common roots.

(Employers Would Rather Hire AI, Robots Than Recent Grads – Entrepreneur)
(Three Out of 10 HR Leaders Would Leave a Position Unfilled Rather Than Hire a Recent Grad)

Economic Employment

Türkiye’s youth entered the 2020s already facing high unemployment and economic volatility. The country’s rapid inflation (soaring to over 80% in 2022) severely eroded real wages and savings, hitting young, new entrants hardest.
(Gen Z and Millennials on AI Impact – Deloitte Insights, AI Could Eliminate 56% Of Entry-Level Jobs Within 5 Years, Urgent Need To Upskill)

Many Turkish Gen Z were unable to find jobs commensurate with their education. For instance, it’s not uncommon to see university graduates working informal gigs or not working at all. This means that the impact of AI in Türkiye often compounds an already existing employment crisis.
(Dynamics of Labor and Capital in AI vs. Non-AI Industries – PLOS ONE)

If a company implements AI and cuts 10 entry-level positions, that’s 10 more young people in a region where perhaps 25% were already jobless. The effect is additive.
(Gen Z: Studies Show Higher Rates of Depression – VOA News)

In contrast, Austria entered this period with low overall unemployment and a robust economy. Austrian Gen Z unemployment ticked up during the pandemic but remained relatively low.
(Gen Zs Are Stressed, Burned Out And Face Mental Health Issues – Forbes)

The immediate pressure of outright joblessness is less in Austria; the issue is more one of underemployment or stagnation. However, one should not underestimate the psychological effects – even in a relatively stable country, youth can feel a narrative decline. Austrian youth may see that their parents enjoyed secure career progression, while they themselves might be stuck at the same income level for years or competing with more people for fewer promotions.
(Gen-Z Workers Are More Stressed and Depressed – Inc. Magazine)

In Austria, the crisis may feel more subtle: it’s a creeping malaise rather than a sudden shock. In Türkiye, it is a visible emergency, as youth line up at job fairs or seek visas to move abroad.
(The Post-Human Desert – Opinion)


Cultural Expectations and Family

Turkish culture traditionally places strong emphasis on family and collective support.
(A New Social Contract for the Age of Artificial Intelligence – Defend Democracy)

On one hand, Turkish Gen Z suffering unemployment can often rely on family networks for housing and financial help for a longer period; the family, in essence, subsidizes the lack of state or labor market support. This cushions the blow of economic isolation somewhat – a young person may be detached from the workforce but still embedded in family life.
(Sublimation – No Subject: Encyclopedia of Lacanian Psychoanalysis)

On the other hand, communal expectations can increase psychological pressure. In a culture where, by one’s late twenties, it’s expected to be married and providing for oneself or a family, failing to do so (due to structural issues) can feel like both a personal failure and a letdown to the family.
(OECD Report on Social Mobility)

The survey finding that 59% of Turkish youth cite “a better future” as their reason to emigrate shows they feel they cannot fulfill their life goals in the current setting.
(Four in 10 Gen Zers Are Ready to Quit and Survive on Unemployment – Fortune)

Austrian culture, being more individualistic and supported by a strong welfare state, offers youth official safety nets (unemployment benefits, subsidized education, etc.) and places less familial pressure to marry early or settle down quickly. Austrian parents generally expect their kids to be independent by their mid-20s, but there is also social acceptance if they take a bit longer – many Austrians pursue long academic paths or take gap years to travel.

Thus, Austrian Gen Z might experience less stigma in a delayed transition to adulthood – it’s considered normal to still be studying or exploring options at age 25. However, the flip side is potentially more social isolation; family ties are not as all-encompassing as in Türkiye, so a jobless Austrian youth might end up more lonely, depending only on peers who may be equally struggling.


Mental Health and Discourse

In Türkiye, open discussion of mental health was until recently somewhat taboo, but Gen Z is changing that, bringing conversations about burnout and depression to the forefront—especially on social media. Still, access to mental health care remains limited for many, and there’s a risk that widespread, untreated depression could take hold.

Austria, by contrast, has better access to psychiatric services and greater public awareness of mental health. Yet Austrian precision might sometimes pathologize individuals without addressing systemic causes. A young Austrian might receive a diagnosis and therapy for depression, but the therapy may focus on coping strategies rather than confronting the socio-economic conditions underlying their distress.

In Türkiye, many Gen Z individuals may not receive any formal help at all, instead turning to informal support networks and collective expressions. A notable example is the genre of dark humor and memes circulating online about the hopeless economy, which serves as a communal venting mechanism.


Political and Institutional Responses

The Turkish government in recent years has launched initiatives such as tech incubation centers and incentives for youth entrepreneurship (partly to address brain drain), but these efforts have limited reach and cannot compensate for broader economic challenges. Moreover, restrictions on political freedoms and periodic crackdowns have alienated liberal-minded youth—some of whom see no future in a country they perceive as sliding into authoritarianism.

This political alienation compounds economic marginalization for many Turkish Gen Z, leaving them feeling both economically and ideologically excluded.

Austria’s political climate is a stable democracy, but youth there also experience disenchantment. Some are drawn to Green politics out of concern for climate change (a form of positive engagement), while others flirt with populist or far-right sentiments that promise to protect Austrian jobs and identity in a rapidly changing world.

Notably, Austria’s strong unions and work councils have, so far, successfully advocated for managing technological change in a way that protects workers. There is at least a formal structure through which young workers’ interests can be represented—though many precariously employed young people are not union members.

In Türkiye, unions are weaker and largely represent older workers in unionized industries. Young gig workers or unemployed youth often lack institutional representation and must instead turn to more ad hoc forms of expression—such as protests or viral online campaigns.


Brain Drain vs. Local Resilience

One stark difference is the scale of emigration. Türkiye is experiencing a significant brain drain among Gen Z and young professionals. This creates a dangerous feedback loop: the more the brightest leave, the harder it becomes for the country to reform or improve—fueling further despair among those who remain.

Austria, on the other hand, is a net talent attractor (including some young Turks). Austrian Gen Z may leave temporarily—to work in Germany or elsewhere—but many return, as Austria remains a prosperous country with a high standard of living.

Austria’s main challenge is maintaining dynamism, ensuring that those who stay don’t feel stagnant. In Türkiye, the challenge is to stop the hemorrhaging of hope via mass emigration. One could say Turkish Gen Z “vote with their feet,” whereas Austrian Gen Z, if dissatisfied, tend to protest in situ or quietly disengage.


Summary

Both countries’ youth feel the pressures of late capitalism and AI disruption, but the tone and form differ. In Türkiye, the crisis is felt as a severe lack—lack of jobs, lack of stability, and a sense of survival being at stake. In Austria, the crisis is experienced more as a loss—a loss of expectations, of guaranteed upward mobility, leading to an existential kind of disillusionment.

The emotional tone in Türkiye may be one of acute anxiety and urgency (“I must escape or I’m doomed”), while in Austria it leans toward numb disappointment (“I guess this is as good as it gets—and it’s not great”). Of course, there are varied experiences within each country (urban vs. rural, educated vs. not), but these general trends hold.

What unites them, however, is that neither country’s Gen Z feels genuinely heard or secured by existing institutions. In both, we see a quest for alternatives: Turkish youth creating startups or engaging in global freelance work beyond their borders, Austrian youth pushing for systemic changes like the Green New Deal or experimenting with cooperative living and new social models.

These efforts suggest that Gen Z, rather than simply succumbing to despair, can be a force for innovationif they are given the societal support needed to translate their discontent into creation. Herein lies the importance of reimagining AI and the social contract proactively.


Toward a New Social Contract: AI as a Structuring Absence and Opportunity

Despite the bleak scenario, there is a potential path forward. The very disruptions caused by AI could be harnessed to restructure society in a way that restores meaning, community, and human development—but this requires conscious collective effort and bold public policy.

The concept of AI as a “structuring absence”—akin to das Ding—implies using the recognition of what AI cannot provide (authentic human connection, creativity with subjective depth, ethical judgment with compassion) as the foundation for new avenues of sublimation and social value.

In practical terms, this means society needs to proactively create roles and spaces for humans that AI cannot fill, and indeed relieve humans from roles that are unfulfilling. If machines take over routine drudgery, that could be liberating—if we ensure humans have alternative meaningful work or pursuits (and the economic means to partake in them). This calls for a new social contract across multiple domains:


Education and Skill Reimagining

Rather than training youth to compete with AI in brute knowledge or routine tasks, education must pivot to developing uniquely human capacities—critical thinking, interdisciplinary creativity, emotional intelligence, and ethical reasoning. We must teach young people how to work with AI as a tool, while nurturing what AI lacks. For instance, medical curricula could place renewed emphasis on bedside manner and holistic diagnosis, since AI can analyze data but not truly care. Arts and humanities should be championed—not cut—on the basis that they cultivate the symbolic imagination that gives life meaning. Both Türkiye and Austria would benefit from curricula that integrate technology with the humanities—producing AI-literate citizens who also possess a strong ethical and humanistic foundation. A policy example could be funding creative youth programs, community arts, and cross-cultural projects that give Gen Z space to express and sublimate their experiences—rather than simply funneling everyone into STEM fields as a knee-jerk economic response.


Economic Security (UBI, Job Guarantees, Reduced Work Week)

To combat precarity and allow youth to engage in meaningful projects, governments may need to implement stronger safety nets. Proposals like universal basic income (UBI) or a federal job guarantee have moved from fringe ideas to serious policy discussions—precisely because of automation.

A UBI, for instance, could ensure that even if entry-level jobs are scarce, young people are not left destitute. It could provide a basic stipend for living expenses, allowing them to pursue further training, community work, or creative endeavors while searching for their niche.

A job guarantee could involve the state directly employing youth in socially beneficial work that markets ignore—such as environmental conservation, elder care, infrastructure development, the arts, and educational support. This would echo historical programs (like the New Deal’s public works) but updated for today—effectively paying youth to sublimate: to channel their energy into rebuilding society in ways AI and profit-driven firms won’t.

Shorter workweeks and more vacation time could also be part of the new contract, distributing work among more people (alleviating unemployment) and giving everyone—especially the young—more time to engage in family, community, or creative pursuits that make life meaningful.


Public Investment in Youth and Community

Acknowledgment of the crisis at the highest levels is crucial. Society must openly recognize that we are undermining our next generation’s prospects—and treat it as a top-tier policy priority, the same way one would treat a war or a natural disaster.

This could include regular government reporting on youth indicators (employment, mental health, mobility) and the establishment of emergency task forces to address them. Policies could incentivize companies to hire and train young workers, even if not immediately “efficient” (e.g., through tax credits or cost-sharing), essentially subsidizing the cultural task of initiating youth into society.

Furthermore, encouraging intergenerational solidarity programs—for example, housing initiatives that pair independent seniors with young renters to foster mutual aid, or mentorship schemes that connect retired professionals with Gen Z entrepreneurs—can help rebuild the broken bridge between generations.

Austria, with its strong social welfare tradition, could pilot such programs (some already exist, such as intergenerational housing projects). Türkiye, with its strong familial culture, could formalize this dynamic into broader community support beyond kin—e.g., community centers where youth can lead local improvement projects funded by municipalities, giving them a tangible stake in society.


Governance of AI and the Economy

The new social contract must also rein in the excesses of capital so that AI’s productivity gains benefit society as a whole. This might include taxation regimes on high-earning, AI-driven companies (e.g., a “robot tax” or digital services tax) to fund the programs outlined above.

It also requires regulating the use of AI in hiring and management to prevent abuse—for example, banning purely algorithmic hiring without human interviews, ensuring that young applicants can present themselves beyond what an algorithm may screen out.

Unions and worker councils should be empowered to negotiate the introduction of AI in the workplace, ensuring that it complements rather than replaces workers. If certain roles are eliminated, new ones—such as AI supervision, data curation, or human interface design—should be created for displaced employees.

As one think tank put it, “we need a new social contract for the age of AI”—one where AI’s benefits are shared equitably and its risks mitigated. That requires broad stakeholder participation, including Gen Z voices in the shaping of AI policy.

In the EU, which includes Austria, moves toward “AI ethics” guidelines are already underway; youth should be part of that conversation, advocating for technologies that serve human development—for example, requiring that AI systems be transparent and augment human decision-making, rather than obscure or replace it in critical domains.


Sublimation and Community Renaissance

At the cultural level, society must foster new forms of community and creativity as antidotes to alienation. While this may seem abstract in policy terms, there are concrete steps: funding local makerspaces, art collectives, and digital commons where young people can collaborate rather than compete.

The future of work may involve more cooperatives or platform co-ops owned by workers (including gig workers), so that even if they interact with AI, they still have a stake and a say in value creation.

Public libraries and cultural institutions can be reimagined as youth hubs—not just offering books, but hosting workshops on everything from coding to painting to philosophy. These spaces can allow young people to explore their passions and connect with peers in physical, not just virtual, spaces.

The point is to create environments where youth drives can be sublimated into socially recognized contributions—whether it’s a community theater production, an open-source software project, or a neighborhood improvement initiative.

Governments and NGOs can channel grants into youth-led projects, signaling that what young people create matters. In Lacanian terms, this reopens the space for the creative void—giving youth the opportunity to confront “the emptiness” with their own meaningful contributions, rather than being passively spoon-fed AI content.


Psychosocial Support

Finally, the new social contract must place mental health and psychosocial integration at its core. This means dramatically expanding access to counseling, career guidance, and peer support groups.

Schools and universities in both countries should integrate mental wellness programs and ensure mental health is not treated as taboo. National campaigns to destigmatize mental health—something both Türkiye and Austria could improve—can encourage Gen Z to seek help when needed, framing it not as personal failure, but as a rational response to unprecedented global stressors.

Additionally, fostering a narrative of hope is itself a policy challenge. Leaders must articulate a vision in which young people can see themselves. For example, a positive narrative might frame AI and automation as liberating the next generation from drudgery, allowing them to focus on repairing society and the planet.

If leaders and media consistently sent this message—and backed it with tangible programs—it could counter prevailing nihilistic narratives.


In essence, what we must construct is a future in which Gen Z are not redundant but central. AI should not be cast as the protagonist of the future, but as a tool—a powerful one—wielded by humans to achieve goals we define.

And the primary goal must be the enhancement of human flourishing, not just economic output. This shift in perspective can restore symbolic meaning: if young people believe that the purpose of technological advancement is to improve human life—their lives—they may be able to reconcile with these changes and even participate in them enthusiastically.

For example, involving youth in AI ethics councils or participatory tech development (as part of ongoing “democratizing AI” efforts) can give them agency over the very forces that currently feel alien and imposed.

To tie back to Lacan: if sublimation is the creation of new values, as one commentator puts it, then the challenge and opportunity presented by AI is to create new social values for work and creativity. We might begin to value care work more—often underpaid but deeply human—or place higher worth on environmental restoration, where human judgment and passion are essential. These could become new pinnacles of achievement: domains where AI might assist but cannot replace the human drive behind them. By elevating these previously undervalued spheres to the “dignity of the Thing,” we effectively sublimate our confrontation with AI into a higher ethical project: building a humane future.


Conclusion: Reimagining the Future and Reclaiming Adulthood

Generation Z in Türkiye, Austria, and across the world stands at a crossroads unprecedented in modern history. The late-capitalist promise that technology and globalization would yield ever-greater prosperity and opportunity has, for them, turned into a paradox: the very technologies meant to empower are, in many cases, disempowering; the economic growth surrounding them is not translating into personal growth.

Through a Žižekian-Freudian lens, we have analyzed how the very mechanisms that should facilitate the journey into adulthood—stable work, cultural participation, and societal recognition—are breaking down under the weight of AI-driven restructuring. The result is an initiation crisis characterized by systemic labor shifts, loss of entry-level roles, psychological burnout, demotivation, stalled social mobility, and feelings of alienation and futurelessness. In Lacanian terms, the symbolic order that should welcome youth is faltering, and the process of sublimation that channels youthful drive is being short-circuited, leaving many young people painfully adrift.

This is not a mere youthful phase, nor something individuals can solve alone. It is a structural crisis requiring structural solutions. Public acknowledgment is the first step. Policymakers, educators, business leaders—and indeed older generations at large—must recognize that we are in danger of betraying an entire generation’s trust. The narrative that Gen Z is simply “fragile” or “entitled” is not only false—it is a convenient excuse that blames the victim. The evidence paints a different picture: Gen Z is responding to objective conditions that would overwhelm any age cohort. As Žižek has noted, we may be approaching a point where humans feel meaningless in the face of runaway technology. This must be treated as a societal emergency.

A new social contract for the AI era must be forged—one that centers human development, symbolic meaning, and psychosocial integration. We have outlined what this might entail: education focused on human strengths, economic policies to ensure security and inclusion, the deliberate creation of roles for human contribution, and a revaluation of what constitutes “work” and “success.” It also means taming AI and capitalism to serve humanity, not dominate it. As one policy paper succinctly put it, “We need a new social contract for the age of AI”—one that balances innovation with inclusion, and turns efficiency gains into time and resources for human flourishing.

For Türkiye, this new deal might involve massive investment in youth employment programs, stronger social safety nets, and meritocratic reforms to restore hope in upward mobility—along with efforts to stem the brain drain by creating conditions under which young talent wants to stay and help build the country. For Austria, it might mean pioneering shorter work weeks, empowering youth through corporate co-determination (so their voices shape the future of work), and funding youth-led social enterprises that address systemic challenges. In both contexts, mental health must be addressed head-on: ensuring no young person feels alone in their anxiety about the future, but rather sees that society is actively working to make that future viable.

Crucially, Gen Z must be active partners in designing this future. They are not just victims of change; they are agents with deep insight into the new world that older generations struggle to grasp. In many ways, Gen Z intuitively understands what is wrong—they feel the void of meaning and belonging. Engaging them in dialogue and decision-making can yield innovative ideas (we’ve already seen youth lead in proposing climate solutions, social innovations, and purpose-driven business models). Just as importantly, it gives them a sense of agency and inclusion—the very things that have been eroded. A social contract cannot be a top-down decree; it must be an agreement. Society must invite Gen Z to the table with genuine respect, acknowledging both the legitimacy of their grievances and the value of their aspirations.

As Lacan would remind us, the goal is not to fill every lack (an impossible task), but to make the lack work—to transform it into creative desire. AI, in its current unbridled form, threatens to fill human spaces with uncanny simulacra that leave people empty. But if we consciously preserve room for the human—the unexpected, the unprogrammable—then AI becomes a tool and an ally.

In policy terms, preserving that room might mean not automating certain professions entirely, even if technically possible, because we recognize the unique social benefit of human presence. For example, maintaining human teachers in classrooms—because education is not just the transfer of information, but also emotional connection, modeling, and care. It might mean instituting a right to meaningful work: the principle that every person deserves the opportunity to contribute in a way that engages their capacities and affirms their worth.

The stakes of inaction are high: a continued trajectory may lead to a permanently disenfranchised generation, growing social unrest, and a society that has technologically advanced but socially regressed into a kind of neo-feudalism—dominated by tech owners and populated by disconnected, underemployed masses.

But the potential upside of action is inspiring: we could witness a social renaissance—one in which, freed from menial tasks, young people lead cultural, environmental, and scientific advances. They would work with AI tools, yes, but guided by human imagination, purpose, and empathy.

We stand, then, at a dialectical turning point. The “initiation crisis” of Gen Z can either deepen into a long-term social emergency—or be transformed, through collective sublimation, into the beginning of a new societal order in which youth and AI are not adversaries, but collaborators.

In that future, AI becomes what it should be: a means to elevate humanity, not impoverish it. And Gen Z, rather than becoming a lost generation, can emerge as the founders of a new era—one that redefines progress not in terms of raw output or algorithmic perfection, but by the well-being, dignity, and meaningful engagement of people.

In closing, we must issue a strong call to all stakeholders—governments, international bodies, communities, and the private sector—to prioritize this issue. The crisis of initiation is real, but it is not destiny. A society that values symbolic meaning will invest in culture and ethics alongside code and machines. A society that values psychosocial integration will measure its success not only by GDP but by the degree to which its youth thrive.

By forging a new social contract that explicitly addresses the needs and aspirations of Generation Z, we not only rescue a generation—we rejuvenate the entire social body. The late-capitalist narrative may cast AI as the end of the human story; we must rewrite this narrative to show that it can be a new beginning—with Gen Z leading the way into a future where technology and humanity, drive and meaning, profit and purpose are reconciled.

It is time to act decisively so that today’s youth can once again believe in belonging—to their professions, their communities, and a shared human future that they will inherit and help shape. Anything less would represent a collective failure with historical consequences.

As a society, we owe it to Generation Z—and to ourselves—to ensure that the profound transitions of our era lead not to a desert of meaninglessness, but to a renaissance of human empowerment. The crisis has been diagnosed; the cure lies in our collective commitment to a new contract where human dignity, creativity, and connection are the guiding principles.


Sources:

  • Hult International Business School & Workplace Intelligence – Study on AI and Hiring (2025): Employers avoiding recent graduates; 37% would rather hire AI.
  • edX / Wellable – Survey on AI Job Elimination (2023): Forecast that 56% of entry-level positions could be automated by 2028.
  • Deloitte Global – Gen Z and Millennial Survey (2024): Young workers fear that generative AI will make it harder for youth to enter the workforce due to automation of entry-level tasks.
  • PLOS One – Study on AI, Labor, and Capital (2024): AI adoption increases capital’s share and reduces labor’s share of income.
  • OECD – Social Mobility in Austria (2020): Low intergenerational mobility; many Austrians are pessimistic about improving their socio-economic status.
  • APA – Stress in America: Gen Z (2018): High stress symptoms in Gen Z—58% reported feeling depressed or sad, 55% reported a lack of motivation or energy.
  • Inc. / Forbes / Salon – Gen Z Burnout and Mental Health (2025): Around 46% of Gen Z workers feel stressed; 35% report depression—significantly higher than older cohorts. Gen Z employees also report feeling more burned out and isolated than others.
  • Duvar English – Turkish Youth Survey (2020): 76% would move abroad for a better future; 50% are unhappy; 86% are in debt. Many youth feel misunderstood by elders.
  • Project Syndicate (Žižek) – “The Post-Human Desert” (2023): AI entails relinquishing control and may lead to “human irrelevance and meaninglessness.” Warns that without systemic change, humans risk becoming irrelevant and disconnected from meaning.
  • Defend Democracy – “New Social Contract for AI” (2024): Argues that AI will transform life, and we “need a new social contract for the age of AI.” Calls for public debate on its societal impact.
  • Lacan – Seminar VII (1960): “This Thing… will always be represented by emptiness… because it cannot be represented by anything else.” (on das Ding and sublimation). Sublimation “elevates an object to the dignity of the Thing.”
  • OECD – Importance of Mobility: Low social mobility undermines growth, well-being, and cohesion; policy can improve outcomes.
  • Deloitte (2024) – Despite some tech optimism, uncertainty is the dominant emotion among Gen Z regarding AI; many fear job elimination and increased difficulty entering the workforce.
  • Fortune / PwC – Gen Z Attitudes (2025): 4 in 10 Gen Z respondents said they would quit and live on benefits if the work environment is poor, highlighting a shift in work expectations and values.

Prompt: … “Yapay zekayla donanan sermaye dönüşümüyle tamamen gözden çıkarılan Z kuşağı “gençler” denen ÇOCUKLAR inisiyasyon krizi yaşıyor, (1) topluma faydalı bir işe (2) motivasyonla angaje olup (3) geçimlerini sağlama şansına sahip olmak bitti, her yerde bu durum ikrar ve analiz edilmeli. Bunun detaylı ve upuzun ve her açıdan konuyu ele alan makalesini yaz!” bu promptta yazılı hiçbir ifadeyi atlamadan ingilizce detaylı bir rapor isteyen prompta çevireceksin (lagaluga talebi içermeyecek) aşağıdaki belgeden fikirler alarak

Yapay Zekâ Destekli Sermaye Dönüşümünün Gözden Çıkardığı Kuşak: Z Kuşağı ve İnisiyasyon Krizi Üzerine Çok Boyutlu Bir Analiz

/ Write a detailed, in-depth analytical report in English based on the following directive:

The transformation of capital through artificial intelligence has rendered the so-called “young people” — in reality, CHILDREN — of Generation Z completely disposable. They are experiencing a profound initiation crisis, as (1) the opportunity to engage in socially valuable work, (2) the motivation to participate meaningfully, and (3) the basic possibility of sustaining themselves economically have all collapsed. This condition must be acknowledged and analyzed comprehensively, across all dimensions and in all arenas.

Your report should explore the full social, economic, and psychological consequences of this crisis. Use the following themes as a foundation for your structure and argument:

The systemic restructuring of labor due to AI-driven capital accumulation

The removal of entry-level jobs and the economic isolation of Gen Z

The loss of social meaning and identity-building through work

The erosion of motivation, rise in anxiety, and youth psychological burnout

The disappearance of intergenerational social mobility and belonging

The rising sense of futurelessness, insecurity, and disconnection

The urgent need for public acknowledgment and deep critical analysis of this crisis

The necessity of a new social contract and forward-looking public policy

Incorporate the framing of the “initiation crisis” as a transition blockage: the inability of Gen Z — still in many ways children — to cross the threshold into functional adult roles in a society increasingly optimized for machines and capital, not human development.

The report should be structured and substantiated using social theory, economic data, and sociological analysis. Tone should be precise, serious, and oriented toward provoking understanding and urgent discussion in academic, policymaking, and public spheres. Do not dilute the language — the existential weight of the issue must be preserved.

/ Focus on Türkiye and Austria. You are Žižekian and Freudian, inspired by the article below!

AI and the Crisis of Sublimation: Lacanian Insights on Social and Intellectual Roles in Peril

16 comments

  1. […] The same venue also tracks Žižek’s recent worries about the ‘post-human desert’—not as sci-fi, but as a political-economic horizon where youth subjectivation is disoriented by AI-driven autonomy. The philosophical task then is not to score metaphysical wins against chatbots but to read how these infrastructures redistribute agency and the sites where enunciation can take hold. (Žižekian Analysis) […]

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  2. […] Aynı mecra, Žižek’in ‘insan-sonrası çöl’ kaygılarını da izliyor—bilimkurgu olarak değil, gençliğin özneleşmesinin yapay zekâ güdümlü özerklik tarafından yerinden edildiği siyasal-iktisadi bir ufuk olarak. Felsefi görev, chatbot’lara karşı metafizik puanlar toplamak değil; bu altyapıların etkenliği ve söyleyişin tutunabileceği yerleri nasıl yeniden paylaştırdığını okumaktır. (🔗) […]

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