Concerns about the welfare of young adults have received increasing public attention. Numerous magazine and newspaper articles ask, “Are young adults failing to launch?” and “Are global crises creating generations of lost youth?” These questions are driven by worries that young people are either unable or unwilling to transition to adulthood, even when they have aged past traditional definitions of childhood and adolescence. In The Journey into Adulthood in Uncertain Times, sociologists Robert Crosnoe and Shannon E. Cavanagh examine whether young people today are either refusing or failing to grow up.

Drawing on both quantitative and qualitative survey data over five decades, Crosnoe and Cavanagh find that young adults are, in fact, waiting longer to take on “real” adult roles, such as worker or parent. However, this is not out of a reluctance to grow up. Instead, increased inequality and changes in the economy have forced young people to adapt their lives in new ways. Young adults are now spending more time in school, have more trouble finding their footing in the labor force, and consequently postpone getting married and having children. They also mix and match roles in more complicated ways now than in the past—going back and forth between school and work over longer periods of time or disconnecting parenthood from their romantic relationships. While the period from late teens to mid-twenties does look different now than in the past, the change has been slow and steady rather than a dramatic shift due to social crises. The Great Recession, for example, had a more muted effect on young people’s social and economic attainment and family formation than fears of a lost generation would suggest.

Crosnoe and Cavanagh find that while the panic over young adults today may be somewhat overblown, this conclusion should not obscure some clear concerns. Young adults do struggle with their social and emotional well-being. They are more depressed than their counterparts in previous generations, drink less alcohol in ways that suggest less engagement with social life, and express deep distrust of social institutions and the idea of the American Dream. The authors argue that worries about the state of young adulthood today should trigger more reflection about how to support young people rather than how to fix them.

The Journey into Adulthood in Uncertain Times is a comprehensive and illuminating examination of the challenges faced by contemporary young adults.

Faith in the American Dream—the idea that anyone who works hard can achieve success—has waned in the 21st century. Decreases in economic mobility, increases in the wealth gap, and other economic shifts have undoubtedly influenced this decline. Politics, however, are an overlooked contributor to confidence, or lack of confidence, in the American Dream. In Debating the American Dream, political scientist Elizabeth Suhay investigates how politics and political identity are intertwined with beliefs about the American Dream and the causes of inequality.

Drawing on public opinion surveys spanning more than four decades, Suhay finds that Americans’ belief in the American Dream is strongly related to their political party affiliation. Democratic Party leaders have increasingly questioned the fairness of the American economy, and, in effect, have called into question whether the American Dream is “real.” Republican Party leaders, by contrast, have consistently defended the fairness of the economy and the American
Dream. While it is true that Americans have become more skeptical of the American Dream overall, Suhay finds this skepticism is concentrated among Democratic members of the public. Despite the increasingly working-class make-up of the Republican coalition, most Republican members of the public continue to believe the American Dream is reality.

Suhay finds that both Democrats and Republicans tend to adhere to their party’s economic narratives when identifying the causes of inequality between rich and poor, White and Black and Latino Americans, and men and women. Democrats and liberals often attribute inequality between these groups to societal causes, such as lack of access to education and jobs or discrimination. Republicans and conservatives, on the other hand, are more likely to blame individuals and
lower-income groups for their difficulties. However, Americans’ beliefs are less polarized when they consider socioeconomic inequalities rarely debated by politicians. For example, when surveys ask Republicans and Democrats about the roots of rural-urban and White-Asian inequality, there is no clear unequal opportunity–individual responsibility partisan divide. Suhay argues that the availability of partisan “scripts” helps to explain differences in the public’s views on inequality between groups that have been politicized. These beliefs appear to bolster support for the two parties’ policy agendas among party supporters, driving a wedge between Democrats and Republicans in support for redistributive economic policy as well as the political candidates who support or oppose redistribution.

Debating the American Dream provides fascinating insights into politics’ role in Americans’ beliefs and attitudes concerning inequality.

Wellesley, Massachusetts, has long been considered the archetypal New England WASP community. However, as new groups moved in over the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, Wellesley has undergone slow but consistent change, transforming into a more demographically diverse and multilayered town. In Beyond White Picket Fences, sociologist Catherine Simpson Bueker explores how Wellesley has been shaped—and continues to be shaped—by its diversity.

Drawing on interviews, archival data, and participant observations, Bueker examines how Italian, Jewish, and Chinese newcomers
influenced and were influenced by the established Wellesley community. She examines the ways in which immigrant and ethnic groups assimilate, retain their cultural backgrounds, and respond to discrimination, sometimes simultaneously, and, in doing so, alter the mainstream. Some new residents responded to Wellesley by assimilating to it. They developed relationships with long-term resident neighbors, volunteered in their children’s schools, and ran for elected positions. In adapting themselves to their new community, however, they also influenced it by virtue of their distinct cultural backgrounds.

Other new residents worked to preserve their cultures by establishing ethnic-specific organizations, lobbying to have new holidays incorporated into the calendar, and hewing to their own ethnic culinary traditions. Their efforts also influenced the established community. When newcomers attempted to retain their culture by requesting ethnic-specific food items be stocked at the local grocery store, opening ethic restaurants, or renting space for a new organization, for example, they impacted the established community. New individuals and groups also responded to experiences of hostility and discrimination. Italian residents fought against attempts at school redistricting targeting them in the 1930s, Jewish residents pushed back against housing discrimination in the 1950s and 1960s, and Chinese residents responded to anti-Asian incidents in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. These groups had to engage with the larger community to rectify these injustices. Some of the changes in Wellesley have come about with little recognition or response; others have been met with resistance and anger. Whether the changes are subtle or obvious and whether new groups are embraced or resisted, the whole town is altered in an ongoing process as new groups continue to move to and settle in Wellesley.

Beyond White Picket Fences is a timely and compelling examination of the ways newcomers become part of and shape American communities.

Beyond unlivable wages and a lack of upward mobility, low-wage work in the United States is rife with danger and degrading treatment. Immigrants and people of color are overrepresented in these “bad jobs” and often feel as though they are unable to change their working conditions. In Legalized Inequalities, law scholar Kati L. Griffith, sociologist Shannon Gleeson, anthropologist Darlène Dubuisson, and political scientist Patricia Campos-Medina investigate the government’s role in perpetuating poor and dangerous work environments for low-wage immigrant workers of color.

Drawing on interviews with over three hundred low-wage Haitian and Central American workers and worker advocates, the authors reveal how U.S. policies produce and sustain job instability and insecurity. Contemporary U.S. labor and employment law, immigration policy, and enduring racial inequality work in tandem to keep workers’ wages low, lock them into substandard working conditions, and minimize opportunities for change. Regulations meant to protect workers are weak and underenforced, privileging employers over workers. At-will employment policies, which allow employers to terminate employees without cause, discourage workers from bargaining for better jobs or holding employers accountable for even the most egregious mistreatment. Federal immigration policy further disempowers workers by deputizing employers to act as immigration enforcement agents leading undocumented workers to believe they must endure maltreatment or risk deportation. Anti-immigrant sentiment—encouraged by U.S. policy—impacts workers across all status groups. Additionally, despite a proliferation of civil rights legislation, racial disparities remain in the workplace. Workers of color are often paid less, forced to complete more dangerous and demeaning tasks, and subjected to racial harassment.

While these workers face formidable barriers to fighting for their rights, they are not entirely powerless. Some low-wage workers filed formal complaints with government agencies. Others, on their own or collectively, confronted their employers to demand fair and dignified treatment. Some even quit in protest of their poor working conditions. The authors argue that reforming labor and employment law, immigration law, and civil rights law is necessary to reshape the low-wage workplace. They suggest increasing funding for workers’ rights enforcement agencies, removing the mandate for employers to verify a worker’s immigration status, and making it easier to prove that employment discrimination has occurred to help empower and protect low-wage immigrant workers of color.

Legalized Inequalities not only highlights the crushing consequences of U.S. policy on low-wage immigrant workers of color but showcases their resilience in the face of these obstacles.

While food insecurity among households with children often makes the headlines, a quieter issue that receives much less attention is the food insecurity faced by older adults. In 2023, over nine percent of Americans age sixty and older were food insecure. Without policy intervention, that number is only expected to grow as the U.S. population continues to age. In Food for Thought social policy scholar Colleen M. Heflin and sociologist Madonna Harrington Meyer illuminate the challenges faced by food-insecure older adults.

Through analysis of national data sets and interviews with lower-income older adults, Heflin and Harrington Meyer describe why many older adults do not have enough money to afford food and other essentials. As a result of chronic economic disadvantage, food insecure older adults are often forced to make budget trade-offs between food and other expenses. In these trade-offs, food typically ranks below housing and energy costs and competes with other household bills, such as medical costs, transportation, and phone and internet coverage. While finances play a large role, nonfinancial factors, such as poor physical, cognitive, and mental health; lack of access to healthy food; and transportation challenges, also contribute to food insecurity in old age. In the
face of these difficulties, food insecure older adults may go hungry, skip meals, or eat unhealthy foods to help make ends meet.

While SNAP and community-based programs, such as food pantries and home-delivered meals, are intended to help address the issue of food insecurity, they are typically inadequate to address the needs of food-insecure older adults. SNAP has enrollment and maintenance procedures that are particularly difficult for older adults to navigate, pays out an insufficient amount of money to cover food costs, and varies greatly by state. Availability of community programs varies by municipality, and these programs often lack nutritious foods that are complementary to health conditions common among older adults. They also can be difficult to access due to a lack of reliable transportation, disability, or cost. Heflin and Harrington Meyer advocate for addressing all the issues that increase older adults’ risk of food insecurity, not just financial barriers. They suggest updating screening tools to include these factors, increasing SNAP benefits and income support for older adults, and implementing other policies to help combat food insecurity in older adults. 

Food for Thought highlights the increasingly important issue of food insecurity in old age and lays

For the past three decades, U.S. immigration policy has become increasingly restrictive, focused on enforcement both at the southern border and across the country. A shift in emphasis from status regularization to criminalization has had rippling effects for families and communities. While we know much about how immigration enforcement impacts the undocumented, we know less about longstanding effects on U.S. citizens. In Surviving the ICE Age, sociologist Joanna Dreby draws on interviews with young adults with foreign-born parents to better understand what it was like to grow up during a time of heightened U.S. migratory control.

Dreby shows that a restrictive approach to immigration creates problems over time and across generations. These issues occur regardless of one’s citizenship status and go beyond deportations. Despite having pride in their heritage, her interviewees did not talk much about immigration. She refers to this unwillingness—and at times, inability—to speak about immigration as silencing. Silencing in a community or family is often intended to protect children, but this can leave them with little information about their backgrounds and status, leading to fear and anxiety instead. Self-silencing often resulted from traumatic experiences tied to enforcement episodes, which sometimes took the form of memory loss or emotional withholding. Dreby finds that experiences with the immigration system that disrupted relationships in a child’s household arising from family separations, moves, or changing roles in the family had especially long-term effects, causing, at times, ongoing mental health issues. Even the risk of immigration involvement left some young adults feeling vulnerable and undermined their sense of safety and security as U.S. citizens.

Dreby also highlights stories that offer hope. Young adults developed strategies to persevere, and children who grew up in communities and families that openly talked about migration felt empowered and fared much better, especially when they had access to resources, such as adequate food and shelter, mental health services, and community support. Dreby calls for policies and practices to mitigate the harms of restrictive migratory control on children’s wellbeing, such avoiding the arrest of parents in front of children and ensuring that U.S. citizen children’s interests are considered in immigration court without their direct involvement.

Surviving the ICE Age details the generational harms caused by U.S. immigration policy and offers suggestions for a better way forward.

JOANNA DREBY is professor of sociology at the University of Albany, State University of New York