About 3 million Americans die every year. That’s a staggering number—and, as Slate reports, it’s not just the sheer volume that’s troubling. Compared to other wealthy countries, the United States stands out for all the wrong reasons: one-quarter of those deaths wouldn’t have happened if America’s mortality rates simply matched its peers. The situation grows even more alarming when you zoom in on younger adults. Among Americans under 65, almost half of deaths are considered excess—meaning they would have been avoided if U.S. death rates were on par with other developed nations. For those aged 25 to 44, the so-called “early adults,” that figure soars to 62 percent. That’s nearly two out of every three deaths in this age group that, statistically, didn’t have to happen.
These sobering insights come from a comprehensive analysis of death rates in 22 countries from 1980 through 2023, conducted by mortality experts and published in Slate. While the COVID-19 pandemic certainly took a heavy toll—America experienced three deaths for every two in peer countries, especially among nonelderly adults—the data tells a more persistent story. The U.S. mortality disadvantage has been growing steadily for decades. The pandemic caused a spike, but the underlying trend continues to worsen, even as the world emerges from the worst of COVID-19.
In 2023, there were about 700,000 so-called “missing Americans”—people who died that year but would still be alive if they had lived in another wealthy country. What’s truly striking is that this number aligns almost perfectly with predictions made before the pandemic, based on existing trends. As the authors note, “our country seems to be, at a deeper level, a deadly place to live.”
Why is America so much worse at keeping its citizens alive? Experts debate the causes, and there’s no shortage of theories. Some point to deindustrialization and the economic struggles of those without a college degree. Others highlight America’s limited social safety nets—unemployment, sickness, and pension programs are all less generous than those in other wealthy nations. The U.S. health care system, with its high rates of uninsurance, underinsurance, and out-of-pocket costs, is another frequent target. There’s also the country’s permissive gun laws and the fact that Americans spend so much time in their cars, both of which are linked to higher mortality. These factors aren’t mutually exclusive, and all predate the pandemic.
But new research has uncovered a particularly troubling trend among one group: early adults, those aged 25 to 44, encompassing millennials and older Gen Z. Before 2010, things were looking up for this group. Lifespans were increasing, with dramatic declines in deaths from HIV, cancer, homicide, and circulatory diseases. But after 2010, the picture changed. Early adults became especially vulnerable to drug overdose deaths, particularly as synthetic fentanyl swept across the country. They also saw rising deaths from car crashes, digestive diseases, diabetes, and a stagnation in circulatory disease improvements.
When COVID-19 hit in 2020 and 2021, mortality among early adults spiked—not just from the virus, but from a host of other causes: drug overdoses, transportation accidents, alcohol, homicide, circulatory disease, and suicide. The nation’s social structures and health system buckled under the strain. While older adults’ death rates fell sharply after the pandemic, early adults didn’t see the same recovery—only about half of the additional pandemic-era deaths in this group disappeared. Since COVID-19, their increased mortality is unique, diverging from other adult age groups.
By 2023, the chance of dying for Americans aged 25 to 44 was 70 percent higher than it would have been if the lifesaving trends of the early 2000s had continued. This leaves them 2.6 times more likely to die than their counterparts in other rich countries. The numbers are stark, but they reflect broader economic and social realities. Employment loss and insecurity during the pandemic hit younger workers especially hard. Increased alcohol and drug use, coupled with high rates of depression, have continued to weigh on this age group. As Slate’s analysis notes, “this age group experienced hardships during COVID-19 that are difficult to bounce back from.”
But the fact that death rates remain high across so many different causes hints at deeper, systemic problems. Millennials and Gen Z have lived through major turning points in American history—from the Great Recession to the pandemic—often entering adulthood with fewer economic prospects and less optimism about the future. Many are disillusioned with a political and economic system that doesn’t provide living wages, stable employment, housing security, or affordable health care. Social mobility has declined, and the dream of homeownership or even marriage feels out of reach for many. Now, the data shows, they’re also far more likely to die young compared to their peers abroad.
As the 2028 election approaches, millennials and Gen Z will make up half of the U.S. electorate. Their growing dissatisfaction with the status quo could reshape American politics. But the challenges they face are daunting, and looming policy changes may make things worse. Cuts to social safety nets like Medicaid, intended to fund tax breaks for high earners, threaten to deepen existing disparities. Rapid technological change—especially the rise of artificial intelligence—could widen income inequality if stable jobs disappear.
Meanwhile, a 2025 study published by LatestLY offers a glimpse into how Gen Z is navigating the transition to adulthood and the workplace. Surveying 831 Gen Z workers under age 27, researchers found that parental involvement in job searches and even day-to-day work is widespread. Seventy percent of Gen Zers asked their parents to help them look for jobs, and a quarter brought parents to job interviews. Incredibly, 31 percent had a parent write their resume, 48 percent had a parent complete test assignments, and 41 percent had a parent handle initial HR calls. The involvement doesn’t stop after hiring: 45 percent reported parents regularly talking to their managers, 73 percent had parents help with work assignments, and 57 percent brought parents to their current workplace.
This phenomenon—sometimes dubbed “helicopter parenting”—reflects a growing cultural divide about Gen Z’s readiness for adulthood and the corporate world. While some see these trends as evidence that younger workers aren’t prepared for real-world responsibilities, others argue that the changing job market and economic insecurity justify seeking all the support they can get. As LatestLY observes, “there’s already a growing cultural divide between employers and Gen Z workers, who prioritise flexibility and smoothening the hiring process, while many older employers cling to traditional expectations around office culture.”
It’s a complicated picture. On one hand, America’s young adults face a mortality crisis that sets them apart from their global peers. On the other, the ways they approach work and adulthood—seeking more support from family, prioritizing well-being, and challenging old norms—may be a rational response to a society that feels increasingly uncertain and unforgiving. Whether these trends will spur meaningful policy change, or simply deepen generational divides, remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: the challenges facing American millennials and Gen Z are profound, and their responses—however unconventional—are reshaping the country in ways we’re only beginning to understand.
As the next generation steps further into adulthood, both their struggles and their strategies for coping will be central to America’s social and political future.
