Global indicators, local realities: Reconceptualising the NEET concept in low- and middle-income countries through multi-stakeholder co-production in Ethiopia

In many parts of the world, governments and international organizations rely on a single label to track the struggles of young people: the term NEET. It stands for "Not in Education, Employment, or Training." This label acts as a statistical spotlight, designed to identify young people who have fallen out of the mainstream economy so that policies can be directed toward them. The logic is straightforward: if a young person is not in school and not working, they are excluded, and society needs to help them find a place. This concept was born in wealthy nations where jobs are usually formal, paid, and recorded by the state. However, in many lower- and middle-income countries, the economy looks very different. Here, work often happens without official contracts, in family fields, or in small, unregistered businesses. In these places, a young person might be working hard to feed their family, yet because their work is not on a government ledger, the standard definition might still count them as doing nothing. This creates a blind spot where the very people who need support the most might be invisible to the systems meant to help them.

A team of researchers in Ethiopia decided to investigate this blind spot by asking a simple but profound question: what does it actually mean to be "unemployed" or "not working" in a place where the rules of the global economy do not always apply? They traveled to the East Gurage Zone in central Ethiopia, a region with both bustling towns and quiet, farming villages. Instead of simply counting heads or filling out surveys, they gathered groups of people to talk. They brought together young men and women who were struggling to find work, their parents and siblings, local government officials, and experts who design employment programs. Over the course of five group discussions, these 51 participants shared their real-life experiences, their definitions of work, and the pressures they faced. The researchers listened carefully, not to see if the young people fit a pre-made box, but to understand how the community itself understood the concept of being left out.

The conversations revealed that the standard definition of NEET was too narrow for the Ethiopian reality. For the young people and their families, being "employed" was not about having a signed contract or a business license. It was about whether a person could support themselves and contribute to their household. A young man tending his family's crops, a woman managing a small roadside stall, or someone helping with unpaid family labor was seen as working. They were not idle. In contrast, government officials and technical experts often stuck to the formal rules, looking for business licenses, tax numbers, or steady monthly wages. To them, if a young person did not have these official markers, they were technically unemployed. This gap meant that many young people who were actually working hard to survive were being statistically labeled as "not in education, employment, or training," while others who were truly dependent on their families might not have been caught by the net if they had a tiny, unregistered income.

The researchers found that the community had a much more practical way of judging who was truly excluded. They looked at whether a young person could buy their own food, pay for their clothes, and contribute to the family without asking for money. If a young person was earning enough to meet these basic needs, even through informal or seasonal work, they were considered to be working. The study suggested that the definition of NEET in Ethiopia should be rewritten to reflect this reality. Instead of just checking for formal jobs, the new definition would look at whether a young person is financially dependent, whether they own a tiny plot of land that can barely feed them, or whether they are simply sitting at home with no way to contribute. The researchers proposed a specific threshold: if a young person earns less than 2,000 Ethiopian Birr a month and has no business license, they might truly be in the category of needing help.

Beyond the definition of work, the study uncovered the heavy emotional toll of being stuck in this limbo. The young people described a deep sense of hopelessness and shame. Without work, they felt they had lost their purpose and their place in society. This lack of direction often led to depression, anxiety, and in some cases, substance use or crime. The pressure was not just internal; it was felt within the family. Parents and spouses expressed frustration, and the tension sometimes broke marriages or created constant arguments at home. The researchers noted that these feelings were not just about money. Work provides a structure for the day, a reason to get up, and a way to connect with others. When that structure is gone, the psychological impact is severe.

The study also highlighted how these struggles were different for men and women. In Ethiopian society, men are often expected to be the primary providers for their families. When a young man cannot find work, he feels a crushing weight of failure, often leading to anger or despair. Women faced different pressures. While unpaid domestic work was seen as a valid role for women, educated young women who stayed at home without a job faced intense social scrutiny. They were often pushed into early marriages by families who feared they would remain dependent. The stigma of being unemployed was universal, with neighbors and community members often labeling jobless youth as inactive or irresponsible, which only made it harder for them to reintegrate into society.

The barriers preventing these young people from finding work were not just a lack of desire to work, but deep structural problems. The participants pointed to a shortage of jobs, a lack of money to start a business, and a system where connections and corruption often determined who got hired. Many graduates felt that their education had not prepared them for the real world, as universities taught theory while employers demanded experience that fresh graduates could not have. There was also a cultural hesitation to take up manual labor or agricultural work, as many believed that a university degree should lead to a white-collar job, even if those jobs did not exist.

The researchers concluded that applying a single, global definition of unemployment to every country is a mistake. It fails to see the hard work happening in informal economies and misclassifies young people who are actually contributing to their households. By listening to the people living these realities, the study offered a way to fix the measurement. They argued that to truly help vulnerable youth, governments and international organizations must adapt their tools to local conditions. This means recognizing that work comes in many forms, from farming to small trade, and that the true sign of exclusion is not the absence of a formal job, but the inability to support oneself and one's family. This shift in perspective could lead to better policies that actually reach the young people who need them, ensuring that the statistics used to guide the world's future are grounded in the truth of people's lives.