Families Torn Apart as Older Relatives Drift to the Far Right Online
Graham never recalls his mother discussing politics. She only voted Tory once out of spite during a rocky marriage, later leaning towards Brexit with her farmer husband. But during the Covid pandemic, everything changed. "I got this phone call and all of a sudden she was listing off these conspiracy theories," says Graham, who works in transport in the Midlands. Now retired and in her 60s, his mother supports Tommy Robinson with religious fervour, claims Keir Starmer is a communist replacing Britons with Muslims, and believes Covid was a hoax. She spends hours on social media, streaming YouTube videos instead of watching TV.
"I went to see her a few nights ago and everything started off as normal, then the conversation just switched," Graham explains. "All of a sudden it was about Muslims in prisons forcing conversions at knife-point, then somehow Starmer became part of it. I just had to leave. We've always been close, but I feel like I'm losing her."
The Rise of Online Radicalisation Among Older Generations
Graham is far from alone. While radicalisation in young people has long been a focus, less is understood about how the fragmenting media landscape affects boomers aged 60 to 80. Polls show we tend to become more conservative with age, and the generation gap is widening. YouGov polling in the 2024 general election revealed Labour's vote share dropped from 45% among those in their late 20s to 20% for those 70 or older. Meanwhile, Financial Times analysis indicates millennials resist this rightward shift after economic turmoil.
Nadine, in her early 40s from northern England, describes similar turmoil. Her parents, once apolitical, now fixate on race and immigration, launching into tirades about small boats. "Mum is on her iPad on the sofa, while her partner is usually at his desktop computer, shut away in another room," she says. "I've no idea what forums or YouTube channels they're on, but I know they're both on Facebook a lot."
How Social Media Fuels the Drift
Sara Wilford, an associate professor at De Montfort University and founder of the Smidge project, studies online extremism in middle age. She notes older people spend over three hours daily online, with Facebook as the main platform for 75% of users over 65. Moderation on networks like X and Facebook has relaxed, bringing fringe messaging to ageing hands.
Wilford identifies "nostalgia porn" as a first step towards radicalisation. AI-generated clips from the 1980s or 90s, created by gen Z for digital natives, resonate with older cohorts consuming "boomerslop"—ranging from weird AI cat videos to unhinged content shared by right-wing influencers. "I now get a very interesting 'for you' feed," Wilford says of her X account, which includes posts from right-wing accounts like MP Rupert Lowe and Maga supporters, often smothered in misinformation.
"These are people who haven't grown up as digital natives," Wilford adds. "They're blithely pottering along, not factchecking anything. Or they say they're not online, but then you ask and they're on neighbourhood apps full of rightwing content."
The Spiral into Dark Places
A spiral of misinformation and distrust can lead to dark outcomes. Guardian analysis last year linked far-right Facebook groups to online offences after the Southport riots, revealing anti-immigrant rhetoric and conspiracy theories. While such ideas once flourished on younger platforms like 4chan, sites like Facebook and X now make them accessible to older demographics, with administrators often over 60.
Wilford believes mainstreaming racism emboldens those who previously hid offensive views. Participation in online communities offers recognition at a life stage when people feel socially redundant. "They go into these chatrooms and they're actually listened to," she says. "For somebody who feels society doesn't care about them any more, this is a revelation."
Family Rifts and Estrangement
Sarah, in her 60s from East Anglia, voted Liberal in 1979 but shifted to Ukip and now Reform, admiring Nigel Farage and Donald Trump. "The Muslim way of life worries me on a daily basis," she admits, recognising this as racist. Her daughter, in her mid-30s, holds opposing views, leading to heated arguments. "Brexit broke everything," Sarah says.
Andy, an academic in his 50s, says his parents in their 80s have drifted right without extremist social media, influenced by newspapers. "It's basically the same worldview expressed in a more polite manner," he notes. During one row, his father threatened to punch him. "They fundamentally believe people of different races don't mix and foreigners shouldn't be living in Britain," Andy adds.
Alison's brother, a pub owner in his 60s, exploded at a family wedding when asked about his Reform support. "He said, 'We're losing our identity,' and told me to fuck off," she recalls. "It was really upsetting." While they've apologised, the relationship is damaged.
The Toll on Family Ties
Dozens report snapped family ties. One woman in her 40s from Hampshire says her aunt's far-right views on Facebook led to estrangement. An American describes duty to a sick relative as the only thing halting estrangement from parents who shifted "so far to the right as to be almost unrecognisable."
Tracey Laszloffy, a US family therapist, notes politics has exploded as a divisive issue, often tied to old resentments. "I've never seen anything this divisive," she says. Janet Reibstein, a psychologist at the University of Exeter, advises drawing boundaries: "Give up on the idea that you're going to change anyone's mind."
Estrangement and Tolerance
Data on family estrangement is scant, but a YouGov poll in the US last year suggested over a third of adults are estranged from a relative, with 18% citing political differences. Joshua Coleman, a psychologist, argues younger people are less tolerant of difference, seeing politics as a value signifier. "It's seen as a virtuous act of protecting your identity and mental health," he says.
Nadine now hesitates to take her child to her mother's house, fearing offensive remarks. Sarah and her daughter have agreed to avoid politics to maintain their relationship. Graham has decided to stop engaging with his mother's views. "Provided I keep my mouth shut, I think the relationship will survive," he says. "But I feel I need to help her somehow. She sounds almost panicky, like she's trying to convince me."
He has suggested therapy, but she refuses. "I don't know what her political beliefs would be if she could be healed from this," Graham adds. "I suppose it wouldn't bother me any more if she wanted to be a member of Reform or support Tommy Robinson, just so long as it wasn't because she was believing lies."
