Why the UK Armed Forces Charity Sector Struggles to Engage Younger Veterans.

The charity sector that supports armed forces personnel and veterans in the United Kingdom has long been a pillar of assistance for those who have served. From large and well-established institutions that have operated for over a century to smaller grassroots organisations founded in recent decades, these charities have offered practical support, financial aid, medical help, mental health counselling, housing assistance, and a sense of belonging for veterans of every background. Yet, in recent years, a recurring concern has become increasingly visible: a widening gap between these charities and the generation of younger veterans who have served in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Whilst the need for support remains acute, particularly in areas like mental health, employment transitions, and social integration, many younger veterans do not appear to connect with or fully utilise the services available to them. So, why does the UK armed forces charity sector struggles to engage younger veterans ? Is it issues of identity, perception, culture, generational difference, technology, and trust? Or could it be that the legacy of traditional military charities does not intersect with the new realities of younger veterans’ lives ? Do traditional military charities reflect the social, political, and economic shifts that have shaped how recent generations experience both military service and civilian life after leaving? Personally, I believe it is not a story of absence but of misalignment as younger veterans do not reject the concept of support, but many fail to see themselves reflected in the structures, images, and narratives offered by the established charity sector. The UK has one of the most extensive networks of armed forces charities in the world. Many of these organisations emerged from the First and Second World Wars, when vast numbers of men returned from the front lines in need of rehabilitation, pensions, housing, and help finding employment. The culture of those earlier veterans’ charities was rooted in collective identity, national sacrifice, and an ethos of mutual aid that mirrored the camaraderie of military service. Over time, this culture solidified into a model of support that was hierarchical, paternalistic, and heavily steeped in tradition. For older veterans, particularly those of the mid-twentieth century, these traditions were familiar and comforting. The language of remembrance, duty, and regimental pride resonated deeply with men and women who had lived through conscription or long careers in uniform. However, by the twenty-first century, the context of military service had shifted. The UK armed forces had transformed into a smaller, highly professional, all-volunteer force. Deployments became more frequent and often controversial, linked to conflicts such as Iraq and Afghanistan. Veterans of these campaigns returned not to a society where military service was universal or widely understood, but to a more fragmented civilian environment where only a small proportion of the public had direct ties to the armed forces and against this backdrop, many younger veterans found that the cultural assumptions embedded in long-established charities did not align with their lived realities. One of the central reasons for the difficulty in engaging younger veterans is the difference in identity between generations. Older veterans often embraced a collective sense of being part of a brotherhood or family that persisted long after leaving the military. Regimental associations, remembrance events, and local veterans’ clubs embodied this sense of belonging. Younger veterans, however, frequently navigate identity in more individualised ways. They may be proud of their service, but they are also cautious about being defined entirely by their military past. For many, life after the military is a conscious effort to transition into a new identity as a civilian professional, parent, or student. To affiliate closely with traditional veterans’ organisations may feel like holding on to an identity they are trying to move beyond. This difference in expectation is profound. When a younger veteran is approached by a charity whose branding relies on wartime imagery, old regimental insignia, or the language of sacrifice and remembrance, the message can feel out of step with the reality of a 30-year-old who left the army after a decade of service and is now focused on building a civilian career and what older generations viewed as honour and continuity can strike younger veterans as nostalgia and irrelevance. As a result, the charity sector sometimes appears to be speaking a language that does not resonate with its intended audience. Another significant barrier lies in the way younger veterans perceive need. The image of the veteran in the public imagination has often been tied to visible injury, long-term disability, or homelessness. These images were reinforced by decades of charitable campaigns that used them to mobilise sympathy and donations. Younger veterans, however, may not see themselves reflected in these portrayals. They may struggle with invisible issues such as post-traumatic stress, anxiety, depression, or difficulties adjusting to civilian life, but they do not identify with the image of the destitute or broken ex-soldier. In fact, many fear that reaching out to a veterans’ charity would mark them as weak or damaged, a label they resist. The stigma of support is compounded by the military culture itself. Younger veterans, raised in a professionalised force, often internalised the ethos of resilience, independence, and self-reliance. Asking for help can feel like a betrayal of that ethos and where previous generations might have seen veterans’ organisations as natural extensions of their regimental family, younger veterans may see them as places of last resort, to be avoided until a crisis becomes unmanageable. By the time a younger veteran does reach out, the problems may have deepened to the point where intervention is far more difficult. The world younger veterans inhabit after leaving service is also very different from that faced by their predecessors. In earlier decades, the armed forces were often seen as a respected and integral part of national life. The transition to civilian employment, though challenging, occurred in a society that broadly recognised and valued military experience. Today, that recognition is less assured. Many employers do not understand how to translate military skills into civilian qualifications. Media coverage of military operations often focuses on political controversies rather than individual sacrifice. Younger veterans therefore move into a civilian landscape that can feel indifferent or even hostile to their experiences and when charities continue to frame their services around narratives of honour and sacrifice, younger veterans may perceive a disconnect with how they are actually treated in civilian life. They may also feel that charitable assistance risks reinforcing an image of veterans as dependent or pitiful, rather than capable and adaptable. For a generation that values autonomy and modernity, aligning with charities that appear to be ‘trapped in amber’ can feel like a step backward. Communication is another critical factor. Younger veterans are digital natives, accustomed to using smartphones, social media, and online networks for information and support. Many traditional charities still rely heavily on in-person events, printed newsletters, or telephone hotlines and while these methods have value, they may fail to capture the attention of younger veterans who expect seamless online services, instant responses, and the ability to access help discreetly.The absence of digital engagement can make charities appear out of touch. A veteran who is struggling at 2 a.m. may turn not to a charity’s office number but to an online forum, a peer-to-peer support group on social media, or even unrelated communities such as gaming networks where anonymity and immediacy are available so by the time charities reach out through traditional channels, the younger veteran may have already disengaged. The competition for attention in the digital age is fierce, and unless charities modernise their approaches, they risk losing relevance altogether. Trust is another major factor influencing engagement. Over the past decade, public controversies over the governance of some large charities have eroded confidence. Media stories of excessive executive pay, fundraising practices perceived as aggressive, or inefficient use of donations have left many people sceptical and for younger veterans, who are often wary of institutions in general, these stories reinforce doubts about whether charities truly serve their interests. Younger generations tend to place high value on transparency and authenticity. They want to see clear evidence of impact and to know that their peers, rather than distant administrators, are shaping the services they receive. When charities operate in ways that appear bureaucratic or top-down, they alienate younger veterans who prefer horizontal, community-driven support. Trust is not automatically given; it must be earned through responsiveness, openness, and direct connection. The demographic profile of younger veterans is also more diverse than that of previous generations. Women now make up a larger proportion of the armed forces, and their experiences of service and transition often differ from those of men. Minority ethnic personnel are also more represented than in earlier decades, and they face unique challenges related to identity, community, and belonging. Many charities, however, still present imagery and services that reflect a male, white, and heteronormative view of the veteran. This lack of inclusivity can make younger veterans from diverse backgrounds feel that the charities are not for them. Similarly, the experiences of reservists and those who served shorter terms complicate the traditional picture of the veteran. Someone who served four years in the reserves alongside a civilian career may not feel entitled to the same support as someone who served twenty years full-time, yet their needs can be just as pressing. When charities do not make space for these varied identities, younger veterans may conclude that they do not belong in the community of support on offer. I would also argue that economic pressures also shape engagement. The austerity policies of the 2010s reduced public funding for social services, leading to greater reliance on charities to fill the gaps and for younger veterans, this often created confusion about where to seek help: should they go to a government agency, a charity, or a local community service? The overlap between state responsibility and charitable provision blurred boundaries, and some veterans came to see charities less as voluntary helpers and more as substitutes for inadequate public policy. This perception undermines trust and diminishes the sense of gratitude that older generations may have felt toward charities. Politically, younger veterans have also served in conflicts that divided public opinion. Whereas service in the Second World War or even the Falklands War was framed in clear moral terms, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan provoked widespread debate. Veterans of those campaigns sometimes feel that their service is viewed through a political lens rather than a purely humanitarian one. If charities present their support using narratives of national unity and unambiguous heroism, younger veterans may find the portrayal at odds with their own ambivalent experiences. Mental health has become one of the most urgent issues for younger veterans, yet it is also one of the hardest areas for charities to address effectively. Its true that younger veterans are more willing than older generations to acknowledge mental health challenges, but they want services that are modern, professional, and evidence-based. If a charity appears to offer outdated or generic counselling rather than specialised therapeutic interventions, younger veterans may choose to seek help elsewhere. Moreover, the landscape of mental health care has become crowded with multiple providers, including the NHS, private clinics, and grassroots peer-support groups. In this environment, the role of a traditional charity is less clear. Some veterans perceive duplication of services, while others become overwhelmed by the sheer number of organisations claiming to help so without clear coordination, younger veterans may simply disengage from all of them. The enduring traditions of the armed forces charity sector, while a source of pride and stability, can also become obstacles. Ceremonial language, formal structures, and hierarchical governance mirror the military system itself and for veterans trying to step away from the rigidity of military life, this continuity may feel oppressive rather than comforting. Younger veterans often seek informal, flexible, and user-led spaces where they can share experiences without judgment. They want communities that are responsive to their contemporary culture, not ones that bind them to a past they do not fully identify with. If the armed forces charity sector in the UK struggles to engage younger veterans, it is not because younger veterans are unwilling to connect, but because the sector often fails to meet them where they are. To re-engage, charities must adapt. This means embracing digital platforms and online communities with the same seriousness as physical gatherings. It means developing inclusive branding that reflects the diversity of today’s armed forces. It requires a shift from paternalistic models of support to collaborative ones where younger veterans shape the services they receive. It also means demonstrating transparency, impact, and authenticity in every aspect of work. Most importantly, it requires listening. Younger veterans bring with them complex stories of modern military service, stories shaped by rapid deployments, political controversies, and the pressures of reintegration into a society that often does not understand them. To engage them, charities must acknowledge these complexities honestly, without relying on simplistic narratives of heroism or sacrifice. The challenge is not merely to provide services but to create communities of belonging where younger veterans feel seen and valued. The UK armed forces charity sector faces a critical moment. The veterans it was originally designed to serve are ageing, while a new generation emerges with different needs, expectations, and identities. The struggle to engage younger veterans is not a matter of apathy but of misalignment between tradition and contemporary reality where cultural differences, perceptions of stigma, technological gaps, and questions of trust all contribute to the disconnect. Unless the sector adapts, it risks losing relevance for the very people it was created to support. Yet within this challenge lies opportunity because younger veterans are not rejecting support outright; they are seeking forms of engagement that align with their values and their lived experiences. If the charity sector can listen, adapt, and evolve, it can re-establish its place as a vital source of solidarity, assistance, and belonging. The task is not easy, but it is necessary and as long as the United Kingdom maintains armed forces, there will be men and women who carry the weight of service into civilian life so ensuring that they are supported in ways that are meaningful to them is not merely the duty of the charity sector but of the nation as a whole.

Tony Wright CEO Forward Assist