When our grandparents were our age, many of them were already married, raising children, and settling into careers they would keep for decades, if not for life. They were signing mortgages, buying cars, and tucking savings away into their pensions.
Today? A 28 year old might be splitting rent with roommates, jumping between different freelance gigs and jobs, wondering if homeownership will ever be possible before fifty, and questioning what it even means to be an “adult.”
Adulthood was once a clearly understood stage of development, which began at age X, typically marked with social changes, marriages, homeownership, parenthood. Now, for many, it has become a hazy memory. These traditional markers haven’t disappeared, but are far less widespread, and less valued. And in a world marked by economic instability, social fluidity, and a culture that prizes self-actualization over conformity, we are left to ask: is adulthood being delayed, or is it actually being rewritten?
The answer, it seems, lies in the fields of psychology, sociology, and philosophy. A new study conducted in 2024 by the University of York offered insight into the evolving psychology of adulthood. Surveying over 700 UK adults aged 18 to 77, researchers found that while the majority of respondents still felt like adults, their definitions of what that status entails were dramatically different from earlier generations.
Only 22-40% of these “adults” participated in these “traditional” milestones such as marriage, career establishment, or parenthood Instead, approximately 80% of the participants defined adulthood by psychological attributes like accepting responsibility for one’s actions, making autonomous choices, and achieving financial independence. This subtle shift, from external achievement to internal transformation, may mark one of the most profound cultural realignments of our time.
For centuries, the transition into adulthood followed a relatively linear path. You turned 18 or 21, moved out of your parents’ home, got a full-time job, got married, bought a house, and had children. These socio-demographic milestones were both rites of passage and moral imperatives. Failing to meet them within a socially acceptable timeline, often by your early thirties, invited judgment, pity, or suspicion.
But timelines, like traditions, do not exist in perfect conditions. They are shaped by the cultural, social, economic, and political conditions of their time. In the postwar decades of the 20th century, stable labor markets, accessible education, and affordable housing made early adulthood more attainable. A study by Gregory and Bloodworth III found that a single income could support a household. Higher education, while not free, was not financially debilitating, and entry-level jobs without college degrees often came with ladders to climb.
Fast forward to today’s world, where the cost of living continues to climb due to inflation, gentrification, and even overcrowding, the average age of first marriage in the UK has risen from 25 in 1970 to 35 in 2019, and full-time employment often requires multiple degrees, internships, and side hustles. As Dr. Megan Wright, lead researcher of the University of York study, aptly stated: “Feeling like an adult is more than your age and the milestones you’ve reached… there is more than one way to become a grown-up.”
This sentiment reflects a growing divide between the societal blueprint of adulthood and the lived experiences of young people. It is not that they are shirking responsibility; it is that the path once taken for granted is now riddled with barriers and detours.
One cannot explore this shift without acknowledging the seismic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic and the enduring cost of the living crisis. These global disruptions have made the journey into traditional adulthood even more uncertain. In the University of York study, young adults aged 18–30 showed the most negative attitudes toward adulthood. Researchers attributed this, in part, to the pandemic’s effect on career prospects, housing security, and mental health.
Philosophically, this begs the question: if the old roadmap no longer applies, then is it still useful to think of adulthood as a destination? Or is it more truthful, and perhaps more empowering, to understand it as a state of becoming, one that is deeply subjective, fluid, and contextual?
The work of Kao, in their study “Preparation for Adulthood: Shifting Responsibility for Management of Daily Tasks From Parents to Their Children,” sheds additional light on the nature of this evolution. Based on a U.S. sample of 2,205 children and youth, researchers concluded that the assumption of adult responsibility is not a single leap but a gradual transition, often stretching over a decade or more.
From managing morning routines and fixing meals to navigating health care and traveling independently, children begin to take on parts of these tasks as early as age 10 and don’t assume full responsibility until well into their twenties.
These findings align with Rogoff’s theory of “guided participation,” developed in 2003, where cultural expectations and familial values shape how and when young people learn to manage their own lives. In this sense, adulthood becomes less a list of checkboxes and more of a developmental arc, deeply embedded in culture, context, and community.
Interestingly, both the University of York study and Kao’s research converge on a central idea: the most authentic markers of adulthood are not necessarily external milestones, but internal capacities. To accept responsibility, to make decisions independently, to care for oneself, these are not just signs of adulthood; they are acts of consciousness. They reflect a psychological shift, a turning inward that reorients one’s relationship with the world.
And yet, even this internal adulthood is not immune to social pressures. According to the York study, those who had attained traditional milestones like marriage and parenthood were more likely to “feel” like adults, even if they did not view those milestones as defining. This suggests a disparity between what people define as adulthood and what they emotionally associate with adulthood.
Moreover, a positive attitude toward adulthood was the strongest predictor of whether someone felt like an adult, accounting for 10% of the participants “feeling” ready for adulthood. In other words, how we feel about adulthood affects whether we feel like we’ve reached it. This insight is as philosophical as it is psychological: adulthood, like identity, may be as much about belief as it is about reality.
If traditional adulthood is increasingly out of reach, and if subjective adulthood is uncertain, where does that leave young people seeking a sense of belonging in the adult world?
The York researchers emphasize the importance of fostering more positive narratives around adulthood. Rather than lamenting the absence of old milestones, society must elevate and validate the diverse ways people come of age today. This includes celebrating psychological growth, resilience, emotional intelligence, and the ability to navigate complexity, all traits that are arguably more relevant in today’s world than owning a home or raising children by a certain age.
This philosophical reorientation is not about rejecting the old model of adulthood, it is about de-centering it. It allows for multiple versions of adulthood to coexist: the parent and the artist, the entrepreneur and the caretaker, the single traveler and the suburban homeowner. Each represents a legitimate form of maturity, forged not by conformity but by conscious engagement with one’s life.
The new definition of adulthood challenges us to move away from rigid timelines and toward a more compassionate understanding of human development. It invites us to see adulthood not as a fixed state achieved at a particular age or by completing a list of tasks, but as a lifelong practice, a way of becoming.
This shift echoes broader philosophical traditions that view identity not as a noun but as a verb. We are not simply adults; we are adulting, growing, adapting, and learning. In a society increasingly defined by uncertainty, perhaps the greatest marker of adulthood is not stability, but the ability to move forward with courage in its absence.
So, is adulthood delayed? Or are we simply learning to see it differently?
The truth is, adulthood has never been as simple as a birthday or a wedding. What is changing is our collective willingness to admit this complexity, and to honor it. In doing so, we open the door to a more inclusive, realistic, and ultimately liberating definition of what it means to grow up.
Adulthood was once a clearly understood stage of development, which began at age X, typically marked with social changes, marriages, homeownership, parenthood. Now, for many, it has become a hazy memory. These traditional markers haven’t disappeared, but are far less widespread, and less valued. And in a world marked by economic instability, social fluidity, and a culture that prizes self-actualization over conformity, we are left to ask: is adulthood being delayed, or is it actually being rewritten?