Domantas Katelė, an official in Lithuania’s Ministry of Social Security and Labour, is widely known as his country’s “Gen Z” minister.
Rings adorn Katelė’s tattooed fingers, which he uses to proudly point to his “Politicians make me sick” door sign.
At 25, he’s the country’s youngest-ever minister (he still wears braces), and rarely lets visitors leave his office without taking a selfie.
Katelė’s portfolio includes youth affairs. “It’s a golden age for the youth of Lithuania,” he told Business Insider during a visit to Vilnius in August.
The World Happiness Report backs up his claim, ranking Lithuania as the happiest place in the world for those under 30 earlier this year.
But it would be inaccurate to paint Lithuania as some sort of dreamland, Katelė adds. After all, it’s also Europe’s suicide capital.
A paradox?
Though the suicide rates have declined since its independence from the Soviet Union in the 1990s, Lithuania still often leads the European Union in this grim statistic.
Between 2019 and 2021, Lithuania had the highest rate of death by intentional self-harm in the 27-country bloc, and, according to the OECD’s most recent data, it had the second-highest suicide rate globally.
It seems paradoxical: How can a country be great for young people while also being Europe’s suicide capital?
Katelė lists some of the reasons Lithuania is ranked so highly for young people — some of the most affordable housing in Europe, free education for many Lithuanians, and a growing economy providing ample job opportunities.
Walking the streets of Vilnius in the summer, you’ll find stylish young people wherever you look — sipping Aperol Spritzes at Old Town bars, lounging by the river in the artsy Užupis district, or skateboarding at the Baltasis Tiltas Skate Park.
Although the city is steeped in history — some very dark and recent — it feels modern and vibrant.
But when you talk to Gen Zers in Lithuania about its preeminence, the reaction is often the same: disbelief.
A few said it made them laugh.
“I was very surprised, and my friends who are living in Vilnius were also surprised,” said Adriana Doroškevičiūtė, 23, sipping on an iced coffee at a café in the capital.
“I thought we were depressed,” she added. “When we receive the opposite of that, you think, what is happening?”
Richard Bogu, 23, was also shocked.
It’s not that he thinks Lithuania is a bad place for young people; just that, like others, he has come to associate the country with bleakness.
“We are known for being very sad people,” he said, adding: “But, slowly, we’re going toward being a small, happy nation.”
Bogu said he feels optimistic about the future, especially for people his age — the tech industry, in which he works, is booming, salaries are rising, and jobs are ample.
“This country gave me opportunities,” he said.
A key benefit is that most Lithuanians can enter the workforce unburdened by student debt, as university education is free for many. Wages are rising rapidly, and the expanding startup sector is eager to hire young talent.
No country for old men
But while things may be looking up for the younger generation, older Lithuanians don’t seem to share the same optimism.
According to Eurostat’s 2023 overall life satisfaction survey of those aged 65 years or over, older Lithuanians are nowhere near as happy as the country’s youth.
This generational divide bears out in the World Happiness Report. While Lithuania ranked first for those under 30, it was 19th across all age groups, dragged down by its 44th-place ranking for those over 60.
“If you don’t have children or grandchildren to care for you, you’re basically done,” Bogu said.
Retirees in Lithuania receive some of the lowest pensions in Europe, and have among the lowest median relative income of older people across the European Union.
Data provided to BI by Lithuania’s Ministry of Social Security and Labour shows that 62% of those who died by suicide in 2023 were over 50, with 8.7% under 30.
It’s a far starker divide than in countries like the US or UK, pointing to a chasm between the generations.
Antanas Grižas, a clinical psychologist specializing in suicide prevention in Lithuania, said the generational divide is deeply felt in the country, as well as elsewhere in the former Soviet Bloc.
He told BI that economic factors, such as low retirement incomes, certainly impact mental health, but that the historical context is key, too.
“The changes after the fall of the Soviet Union were very fast and drastic,” he says. Those who lived through this period faced a double trauma: enduring Soviet rule and navigating the chaotic transition to an independent capitalist nation.
Plus, as Grižas points out, psychiatry was sometimes politicized under Soviet rule, with dissidents being labeled as mentally ill, which has strengthened a generational stigma over mental health.
“The Gen Z, haven’t experienced that directly, ” he noted. “So it makes total sense that they have different conditioning and a different mindset.”
Reports like the happiness rankings are also often based on self-assessments, and Grižas suggests that comparisons may play a key part in the variation between the generations.
“The younger generation can easily compare and see the progress that we as a nation made,” he said.
Katelė, the “Gen Z” minister, agrees that the positive self-assessments among the youth may have been influenced by their awareness of the hardships faced by their elders.
While the previous generation was deprived of luxuries, he said Gen Z can relish the freedom to spend the equivalent of $160 on dinner, to vacation abroad, and to participate in democracy.
“If they take a look and think about that,” he said, “it’s just not possible to not be happy.”