Is marriage being rejectedor redefined across low, middle and high-income societies?
Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazili
Across dinner tables, family WhatsApp groups, and late-night conversations between parents and their adult children, a familiar anxiety surfaces: Why aren’t young people getting married anymore? Why are they waiting so longor choosing not to marry at all? Has marriage lost its value, or has the world around it changed so profoundly that the institution itself is being renegotiated?
For Generation Z and younger millennialsacross low, middle and high-income societies, marriage is no longer a given milestone neatly slotted into early adulthood. It is something to be assessed, delayed, reshaped, or consciously declined. This shift is often misread as selfishness, fear of commitment, aversion or cultural decay. In reality, institution of marriage is not disappearing. It is undergoing a stress test.
When we got married, the previous generations treated marriage as a cornerstone—the foundation upon which adulthood, family, and financial life were built. People married young, grew together, and figured things out along the way. Stability followed commitment.
Today, what has changed for many young adults, marriage has become a capstone—the final piece placed atop an already stable life. Education, career footing, emotional readiness, and financial security are expected first. Marriage, if it comes at all, is meant to complement a life already constructed, not rescue one still under strain.This reversal is not ideological rebellion. It is pragmatic realism.
Rahul (name changed), 34, an IAS officer posted in a conflict-prone district, lives largely out of a suitcase. His work demands constant transfers, political negotiation, and crisis management. Marriage, he believes, would require an equally mobile and resilient partner—a rarity in a society that still expects domestic anchoring from women. “Marriage once felt like a foundation,” he reflects. “Now it feels like another system to manage.” Having watched colleagues struggle through long-distance marriages, emotional isolation, and quiet resentment, Rahul has not rejected marriage. He has postponed it—ethically rather than evasively—until it can be entered fairly.
One cannot understand delayed marriage without confronting economics. Across income groups, the cost of living has risen faster than wages. Housing has become inaccessible in many cities. Student debt shadows early adulthood. Healthcare, childcare, and eldercare costs loom large.
Two incomes are now essential in most households. Where once one salary could support a family, marriage today often intensifies financial pressure rather than easing it. Small wonder that many young couples say, “Not yet.” Not until debt is manageable. Not until work feels stable. Not until a furnished home seems even remotely attainable.
Marriage has become a decision weighed like a long-term investment, not a romantic leap of faith.
Anaya (name changed) the doctor who learned to wait, 32, a Post graduate senior resident at a government medical college, spent her twenties rotating through night duties, competitive exams NEET etc , and rented rooms near hospitals. Marriage proposals followed each professional milestone, but she declined most. “It wasn’t fear of commitment,” she says. “It was fear of exhaustion.”
Watching senior women especially from the medical fraternity struggle to balance medicine, motherhood, career and unequal domestic expectations, she chose stability before adding another lifelong responsibility. Today, financially independent and emotionally clearer, she is open to marriage—but only if it resembles partnership, not sacrifice. For her, delaying marriage was not rejection. It was triage.
Love, without illusions, today’s young adults are not less romantic—but they are more sceptical. They understand attraction and chemistry, but they also recognise how quickly excitement fades without respect, emotional maturity, and shared responsibility. Many describe a dating culture hyper-focused on flaws rather than virtues, perfection rather than patience. The fear is not commitment itself, but committing to something unrealistic. Many grew up witnessing OTT series, drama serials with hyped marital conflicts, divorce, prolonged conflict, or marriages sustained by endurance rather than joy. The promise of “forever love” feels less like a lived reality and more like a nostalgic myth. Marriage, once associated with permanence, now carries an awareness of fragility.The fear is not commitment itself, but committing to something ill-prepared.
The young entrepreneur who chose alignment, like Sameer (name changed), 29plus, sustaining one adult life already feels precarious. Adding a spouse—and potentially children—feels financially reckless. The young entrepreneur chose freedom first. While running a rapidly scaling digital retail startup his days revolve around investors and their calls, market logistics, stock market ,shares and cash-flow crises. Marriage discussions, he says, feel premature. “I don’t want marriage to rescue me or restrain me—I want it to meet me.” Having seen relationships collapse under financial stress and unequal expectations, he values autonomy. Companionship matters, but not at the cost of selfhood. For him, staying single is alignment, not absence.
Marriage remains nearly universal in India, making the steady rise in male age at marriage striking. Analysing NFHS data, sociologist Alaka Malwade Basu and economist Sneha Kumar show that men are not delaying marriage out of hedonism, but economic insecurity. Education alone is no longer sufficient. Secure employment has become the gatekeeper. Men without stable jobs postpone marriage or, in some cases, reverse older dowry dynamics through “bride price.” Marriage, the data suggests, is adapting to economic stress—not collapsing under it.
Perhaps the most transformative force reshaping marriage is women’s independence. For the first time in history, large numbers of women do not need marriage for survival, legitimacy, or social standing see it through tainted lens of autonomy, and the end of necessity. Marriage is no longer a requirement. It is an option. And options invite scrutiny.
Many women ask: Will this expand my life—or shrink it? Will this be partnership—or unpaid labour? Support—or slowdown? For those who have watched women “do it all” while men do less, opting out is not bitterness. It is boundary-setting.
Is marriage being rejected, delayed or reclaimed? Despite appearances, most young people are not anti-marriage. They are anti-illusion. They reject marriage as obligation, economic trap, or gendered sacrifice. What they seek instead is intentionality—commitment entered freely, consciously, and equitably. This may explain a paradox: fewer people are marrying young, yet divorce rates among younger cohorts are declining. When they commit, they do so carefully.
There are, of course, quiet counterexamples that complicate the narrative. Farah and Imran married at 24, just as their careers were beginning—she a schoolteacher, he a junior engineer. They had little savings, modest expectations, and an explicit pact to grow together. Domestic work was shared early, finances transparent, ambitions negotiated rather than assumed. A decade on, their marriage endures not because it was early, but because it was egalitarian. Their story is a reminder that timing alone does not determine success—conditions do. When partnership precedes patriarchy, early marriage can still work.
Marriage is no longer society’s starting line for adulthood, but a potential finish line—one many may never cross. This isn’t a rejection of commitment, but a demand that marriage prove its worth. For Gen Z and younger millennials, it is no longer a default milestone but a deeply personal choice, weighed against economic insecurity, shifting values, and a desire for autonomy.
Overwhelmingly, financial strain—driven by stagnant wages, student debt, and unaffordable housing—makes starting a family feel out of reach. At the same time, social priorities have shifted: career ambition, personal freedom, and self-development are often prioritised. There is also heightened awareness of the unequal labour in parenting and broader existential anxieties, from climate change to breaking cycles of trauma.
Marriage is not dying. It is becoming selective. The bold direct and non-judgemental questions we should be asking not to Gen Z but to the society which lives with ranks, positions, grades, gold and glitter. Instead of asking why young people won’t marry, perhaps we should ask: What kind of world have we built where marriage feels like a liability rather than a refuge? When early marriage works?
This generation is conducting a rational cost-benefit analysis. They are not abandoning marriage or parenthood but redefining them, insisting on stability, equality, and intentionality first. The institution isn’t vanishing—it’s being held to a higher standard. For it to remain meaningful, society must address the economic precarity and inequitable expectations that currently make commitment feel like a risk rather than a refuge.
(The author is a medical professional and senior columnist who writes on positive perception management, social morality, and societal values. He can be reached at drfiazfazili@gmail.com)
