Generation Z in Italy cannot afford a normal life — and they know it

Ask a 24-year-old in Milan, Naples, or Palermo whether they expect to own a home, have a permanent job, and start a family before 35 — the way their parents did — and the answer is usually a laugh followed by silence. This is not pessimism or laziness. It is a rational response to a set of economic conditions that have made the standard markers of adult life genuinely inaccessible for much of the generation now entering the workforce.

Italian wages have barely moved in thirty years. The OECD tracks real wage growth across its member countries; Italy is one of the few where real wages are lower today than they were in 1990, after adjusting for inflation. A 2023 Eurostat report found that Italy's average gross annual wage sits below the EU-27 average, despite Italy being the third-largest economy in the eurozone.

For young workers the picture is worse. Italy's system of tiered contracts means that most people under 30 are on fixed-term arrangements — contratti a tempo determinato, stage (internships that are often poorly paid or unpaid), or project-based contracts (co.co.co) — rather than the permanent, protected contratto a tempo indeterminato their parents obtained in their twenties. Permanent contracts are hoarded by those who already have them; the entry level is a revolving door of temporary positions.

Housing costs in Italian cities have risen sharply while incomes have not. Average monthly rent for a single room in a shared flat: €700–950 in Milan, €550–800 in Rome, €450–650 in Bologna, €400–580 in Florence. Against an average net entry-level salary of €1,100–1,400 per month, this leaves between €150 and €700 for everything else: food, transport, phone, clothing, any semblance of social life.

Ownership is mathematically impossible for most. The average price per square metre in Milan is approximately €4,800; in Rome around €3,200; in Bologna around €2,900. A modest 55m² flat in Milan costs roughly €264,000. A 30-year mortgage at current rates requires a monthly payment of €1,100–1,300 — approximately the full net salary of an entry-level worker, before they have bought a single meal. The numbers simply do not work.

Italy has one of the highest rates of youth emigration in the EU. The Italian National Statistics Institute (ISTAT) estimates that between 2010 and 2023, roughly 1.5 million Italians between 18 and 34 emigrated, primarily to Germany, the UK (before and after Brexit), Switzerland, and France. Many are graduates: Italy produces more university graduates than it has graduate-level jobs for, leading to the 'fuga di cervelli' (brain drain) that has been a topic of political hand-wringing for two decades without meaningful policy response.

Those who stay often end up in one of two positions: subsidised by family (living at home into their late twenties or thirties is common and culturally normalised in Italy in a way it is not in Northern Europe), or in precarious employment that pays enough to survive but not enough to build anything. The Italian term 'bamboccioni' — roughly 'big babies' — was coined to mock young adults who live with parents, without acknowledging that the alternative is often impossible on entry-level wages.

Hospitality seasonal work does not solve the structural problem. But for many young people it solves a practical one: a live-in seasonal contract in Sardinia or on Lake Garda removes the rent equation entirely for four to six months, allows genuine savings accumulation, and provides documented work experience in a sector that is actually hiring. An Italian graduate who spent two summers in hospitality and saved €5,000–8,000 is in a meaningfully different position than one who spent two summers on unpaid internships and saved nothing.

The reason seasonal work attracts young people from across Europe is partly the same reason it always did — adventure, language immersion, sun — and partly something newer: it is one of the few entry-level job markets where you can actually make money, not just experience. The beer may cost more than an hour of work. But if the accommodation is included and the contract is legitimate, the month's work still adds up to something real.

In a compressed job market where everyone is chasing a limited number of good positions, small differences in credentials matter more than they did when the market was loose. A 2024 survey of Italian hospitality employers found that candidates who could demonstrate documented English proficiency — not just self-reported, but evidenced by a certificate or qualification — were shortlisted at roughly twice the rate of those who listed 'good English' with no supporting evidence.

This is the narrow but real opportunity in an otherwise difficult situation: the skills gap in Italian hospitality is genuine, English-capable workers are consistently in demand even when the general youth employment picture is bleak, and the difference between a candidate who can prove their skills and one who cannot is measurable in the quality of the roles available to them. It is not a solution to a structural economic problem. But it is something you can do this week.