Luxembourg is often described as a place where things work. The streets are safe, the economy is strong, and the political system has been a quiet constant in a noisy world. Yet beneath this calm surface, something is stirring. According to a recent survey commissioned by the Centre for Citizenship Education to mark its tenth anniversary, seven out of ten residents believe that the country’s democratic culture should be strengthened. That is a striking number for a country that rarely thinks of itself as being in crisis. It suggests that people are not asking for revolution, but they are asking for renewal. They want a democracy that is more alive, more engaging, and more capable of facing the challenges of our time. The survey, conducted by the research firm Quest among 600 residents aged 15 and older, offers a nuanced picture of a society that values its democratic institutions but worries about their future. It is not a portrait of despair. It is a portrait of concern mixed with hope, of people who still believe in the system but sense that it cannot be taken for granted. The Centre, for its part, sees these results as validation of its work. For a decade, it has been trying to teach democracy, not just as a set of rules, but as a culture, a habit, a way of living together. The fact that so many residents say that culture needs strengthening tells the Centre that its mission is more urgent than ever. The survey does not offer simple answers, but it opens a conversation about what democracy should look like in the twenty-first century, and about the role that every resident, every school, and every institution must play in keeping it healthy.
One of the most interesting findings is the tension between worry and confidence. Most respondents said they are concerned about threats to democracy in Europe. They look at rising polarisation, populism, and the spread of online manipulation, and they see danger. And yet, a majority also said they believe democracy is resilient enough to withstand these challenges. This is not a contradiction; it is a sign of maturity. People can hold two thoughts at once: the world is fragile, and the foundations are still strong. Michèle Schilt, the deputy director of the Centre, noted that just over half of the respondents described themselves as optimistic about the future of democracy in Europe. That may not sound like a ringing endorsement, but as she points out, there are still more optimists than pessimists. The glass is more than half full, but not by much. What matters now, Schilt says, is not to rest on this cautious optimism, but to find practical ways to keep democracy strong in the long term. The survey suggests that people are not looking for grand gestures or ideological crusades. They are looking for small, concrete actions that can make the system work better. They want honest information, fair treatment, and a sense that their voice matters. The concern about threats to democracy is not abstract. It is felt in everyday life: in the strange messages that appear on social media, in the growing distance between political leaders and ordinary citizens, in the difficulty of knowing what to believe. And yet, the fact that optimism still edges out pessimism is important. It means that people have not given up. They are not ready to throw the democratic project overboard. They are simply asking for help in keeping the ship steady. That is exactly the kind of nuanced message that the Centre for Citizenship Education wants to hear, because it gives room for action. If people were completely hopeless, there would be little to do. But because they are worried and hopeful at the same time, there is space for education, for dialogue, and for change.
The survey also asked residents what they think should be the main focus of efforts to strengthen democracy. Almost half pointed to the fight against disinformation as a key priority. This is a telling result. In an age when anyone can publish anything, the ability to distinguish truth from falsehood has become one of the most important skills a citizen can have. Disinformation does not just confuse people; it poisons public debate, makes it harder to solve problems, and erodes trust in institutions. The second priority, chosen by 43 percent, was reducing social inequalities. This is another way of saying that democracy cannot thrive when people feel left behind. If the gap between the rich and the poor grows too wide, the idea that everyone has an equal voice begins to ring hollow. People who struggle to make ends meet may not have the time or energy to participate in civic life, and they may come to see politics as a game played by the privileged. The survey shows that residents understand this connection. They are not asking for a perfect society, but for a fairer one. When asked who should take responsibility for these issues, respondents put the government first, followed by the school system. This is not surprising. Governments have the power to regulate information, to fund public services, and to shape economic policy. Schools, for their part, are where young people learn how to be citizens. But the fact that residents look to these institutions also suggests a certain humility: they believe that the problems are systemic, not just individual. People cannot fix disinformation on their own, and they cannot solve inequality through personal choices alone. They need leadership. At the same time, the survey hints at a broader understanding of democracy as a shared project. It is not just about voting every few years. It is about creating a society where information is reliable, where opportunity is widespread, and where people trust the system enough to participate in it. The emphasis on disinformation and inequality reveals a public that is thoughtful about the roots of democratic decay. They are not focused on superficial fixes. They are looking at the underlying conditions that make democracy possible: truth, fairness, and trust.
For the Centre for Citizenship Education, the most important takeaway may be the role of schools. Michèle Schilt stressed that schools have a crucial role in teaching children and young people about democracy and their rights as citizens. Early education, she argued, is essential. This is not just about memorising the constitution or learning how a bill becomes a law. It is about learning how to listen, how to disagree, how to argue with evidence, and how to work with people who are different from you. Democracy is a skill, and like any skill, it has to be practised. Schools are the natural place for that practice. A classroom where students are encouraged to ask questions, to challenge assumptions, and to take responsibility for their community is a miniature democracy. When children learn that their voice matters, they are more likely to become adults who believe that participation is worthwhile. The survey’s findings support this view. Residents placed a great deal of responsibility on the school system, not just for academic learning, but for the health of democracy itself. This is a heavy burden, but also an honour. Teachers are not just instructors; they are the guardians of civic culture. They help young people understand that democracy is not a machine that runs by itself. It depends on citizens who are informed, engaged, and willing to defend its values. Of course, schools cannot do the job alone. Schilt also pointed out that good governance and efforts to reduce social inequality are fundamental to maintaining public trust in democracy. If young people learn about democratic ideals in school but then see corruption, incompetence, or injustice in the wider world, the lesson will not stick. Education and governance must go hand in hand. The school system can plant the seeds, but the rest of society has to water them. The survey suggests that residents understand this. They are not expecting schools to work miracles. They are asking for a coherent approach, one in which civic education is supported by institutions that actually behave democratically. In this sense, the Centre’s mission is bigger than the classroom. It is about building a culture of democracy that extends from the youngest student to the highest official, a culture in which everyone feels a sense of ownership and responsibility.
When it came to possible reforms, the survey offered some interesting clues about public opinion. Expanding or simplifying access to voting rights, which is often discussed in democratic circles, received only limited support. This is a reminder that people are not always in favour of institutional tinkering. They may see changes to voting rules as less important than the deeper issues of trust and information. The personal engagement questions were even more revealing. Sixty-four percent of respondents said they would be willing to vote to help strengthen democracy. That is a strong number, but not overwhelming, especially in a country where voting is already a civic duty for registered voters. More than half said they would be open to listening to others’ opinions, signing petitions, or verifying information before sharing it. These are quiet, everyday forms of democratic participation. They do not require a lot of time or courage, but they do require a certain attitude, a willingness to engage with others and to take responsibility for the quality of public debate. The picture changes dramatically, however, when it comes to more active forms of engagement. Only 14 percent said they would consider joining a political party. Twelve percent would take part in strikes. And just nine percent would be willing to stand as a candidate in an election. These numbers tell a sobering story. People want democracy to be healthy, but they are not eager to become politicians. They are happy to vote, to sign, to listen, and to check facts. They are much less happy to knock on doors, to argue at party meetings, or to put their own names on a ballot. This is not necessarily a sign of laziness. It may be a sign of realism. Political parties can be off-putting, strikes can be costly, and running for office is exhausting and often thankless. But the gap between passive support and active participation is a challenge for democracy. If the people who care about strengthening democracy are not willing to engage in the messy work of politics, who will? The survey does not answer that question, but it does highlight the problem. It also suggests that new forms of participation, such as citizen assemblies, online consultations, or local community projects, might be needed to give people a way to contribute that feels meaningful without requiring them to become professional politicians. The low numbers for parties and candidacies should be a wake-up call for all those who believe in democratic renewal.
The survey commissioned for the tenth anniversary of the Centre for Citizenship Education is not just a collection of statistics. It is a mirror held up to a country, reflecting both its fears and its hopes. Seven out of ten residents want a stronger democratic culture. That is a clear demand. But the survey also shows that the demand is accompanied by a certain ambivalence. People are worried about disinformation and inequality, yet they are not sure how to respond. They trust the institutions, but not blindly. They believe in democracy, but they are not willing to give it all their time. This is the human face of democracy in the twenty-first century: caring, but distracted; committed, but cautious. The Centre sees its mission as more vital than ever, and it is hard to disagree. For ten years, it has been working to build the kind of civic culture that can sustain a healthy democracy. The survey shows that its work has not gone unnoticed. But it also shows that there is much more to be done. The challenge is to take the goodwill that exists among residents and turn it into something more durable. That means finding ways to make participation easier, to make information more reliable, and to make institutions more responsive. It means listening to the people who say they would vote, sign a petition, or verify a fact, and giving them more opportunities to do so. It also means reaching out to the small minority who are willing to go further, to join a party, to organise a protest, or to run for office, and making sure that their courage is not wasted. Democracy, after all, is not a spectator sport. It is a living thing, and it needs care. The survey offers a moment of reflection. It is a chance for Luxembourg to ask itself what kind of democracy it wants to be. The answers may not be easy, but the fact that the question is being asked is itself a sign of health. For those who want to see and hear the story in Luxembourgish, a video report is available, capturing the voices and faces behind the numbers. But the real message transcends language. It is that democracy is not something we can take for granted. It is a project, a practice, and a shared responsibility. And according to most residents, it is a project worth strengthening. The Centre for Citizenship Education, and the people it serves, seem ready to take on that task. The next decade will show what they can build together.