A Confrontational Speech on Tokenistic Youth Participation at IGF 2025
Bold. Unfiltered. Necessary. I didn’t speak to please — I spoke to push for the change this space claims to value.

Last week, I stood at the open mic during the Taking Stock session at United Nations Internet Governance Forum (IGF) 2025 and said some things that were bold, maybe even uncomfortable for some to hear. I didn’t speak because I was angry or upset. I spoke because I still believe in this space.
I believe in the IGF, in multistakeholderism — not as a buzzword, but as a living, evolving principle that demands honesty, discomfort, and accountability. And I believe in the possibility of doing better, together.
But belief alone is not enough. We need truth. And too often, the truth is softened, avoided, or left unspoken; especially when it comes from those with less power, fewer titles, or fragile funding situations.
I spoke because I could: because I’m not completely, financially beholden to this system, nor bound by an institution that filters or edits my voice. And perhaps most importantly, I’ve been in this space long enough to know exactly what silence protects — and who it leaves behind.
So I used what little privilege I had: my access to the mic, my time-earned understanding of how this system works, and the community behind me, to say what many have been thinking but haven’t dared to say aloud. Because they feared retaliation. Because their culture didn’t permit it. Because the system rewards politeness, not confrontation.
But confrontation isn’t the enemy of collaboration — denial is.
I spoke up not to shame anyone, but to shake something loose. To remind us that youth participation isn't a slogan — it’s a responsibility. And if we’re serious about building an inclusive digital future, we can’t keep sidelining the very people who will inherit it.
Ironically, or perhaps tellingly, my microphone was cut off before I could finish. I was told I had gone overtime (which I had). But in a space where youth voices have been systemically underrepresented, underfunded, and underheard, it was disheartening to see that the room could not bear 30 more seconds of our truth.
What follows is the clip 🎥 and the original script 📝 of my intervention. I share it here not as a final word, but as an invitation: to reflect, to feel uncomfortable, and to do better.
They say youth voices need to be heard: The Speech
See how that played out in my full IGF 2025 speech:
Final Token as a “Youth”: The Original Script
Youth participation — how many years have we been talking about it?
Too many years. And yet, here we are — still framing youth engagement primarily around capacity building, as if young people haven’t already proven their readiness to contribute meaningfully to policy advocacy at all.
The truth is: youth participation in Internet governance remains, at best, tokenistic and more often, structurally excluded.
Why? Hosting a “youth summit” filled with top-down speeches from leadership is not cross-generational dialogue. Calling for youth inclusion — while never invite a single youth representative to speak on a leadership panel — is not genuine co-creation.
Just because youth communities aren’t institutionalized in the traditional model — without titles like “Chairperson” stamped on our name cards — doesn’t mean we lack leadership. We lead differently, but we lead nonetheless.
Have we not tried to claim our seat at the table? We have. We’ve built initiatives, created platforms, hosted discussions, and shaped narratives — for youth, and for the broader Internet governance community. Go to talk to the youth leaders in your own country, your own region. We’ve done all this — even while struggling with limited resources and support.
And yet, this system continues to set us up to fail –– Much like how a forum, when chronically under-funded, is doomed to under-perform by design. Youth have long been cast into the role of the inexperienced — as perceived by other stakeholders as lacking the skills, capacity, or knowledge to even be taken seriously. This perception alone has been enough to keep many of us on the sidelines.
But to those in positions of power — with titles, platforms, funding, and decision-making authority — I urge you: do not let your privilege cloud your judgment. Do not deflect accountability by blaming youth for disengagement
Yes — we are digital natives. We didn’t witness the birth of the IGF. Many of us weren’t even born when the Internet took its first steps. But that doesn’t make our voices any less valid than others in this room.
This year, multistakeholderism has taken center stage. It’s been powerful to watch diverse actors rally behind this ideology — advocating for systemic change in a world long dominated by bilateral power structures.
Yet if you haven’t used your institutional, generational, financial, or positional privilege, access, and influence to structurally include youth—even within the IG ecosystem itself –– then that, frankly, is a missed opportunity. And a shame.
Before I close, I’d usually direct my thanks to the senior leaders in the room. But today, I want to thank every young person who works tirelessly — often invisibly, often unpaid — for all the work they’ve done, and continue to do.
I’m sorry if eight years of my hard work didn’t move the system enough for you. But I believe in our next-generation leaders — Gen Z, Gen Alpha, even Gen Beta. And if I ever make it to the seat at the center of this room, I won’t stay there. I’ll disassemble the stage and sit alongside each and every one of you — because I believe in us. Because I believe in what true multistakeholderism should look like.
This is where my voice concludes. Now, I pass the baton of speaking truth to power, to all the young leaders in this room and those tuning in from around the world. And with this, I use my final token as a “youth” — to speak one last time boldly without fear, in the name of true multistakeholderism.
I say this not to dismiss the efforts that have been made, but to reflect the truth many young people still experience in this system.
If my words today feel confrontational, uncomfortable, or even inappropriate — good. Because discomfort is often the beginning of innovation, growth, and real change.
For the record: My name is Jenna Fung. I am a 28-year old Hongkonger who began my Internet governance journey in the Asia Pacific. I am a writer, a micro-commentator, a daughter of a housewife and a father who never finished primary school; an immigrant and a digital policy advocate active in Canada — where I’ve appeared before telecom and broadcasting regulators to defend the public interest and lobby for digital policies that make sense to everyday people.
Afterword
After I spoke, a man who’s worked in this space for years approached me with tears brimming in his eyes. He said “You should be proud of yourself, of what you did today, you should be proud,” that despite his own efforts, little had changed for the younger generation. That moment reminded me that multistakeholderism only works when we speak uncomfortable truths, and when others listen with humility.
I didn’t expect everyone to agree with me. But I spoke because I believe in this space and the ideals it represents.
I experienced an incident afterward that made me feel unsafe. I’ve filed an official complaint and the process is ongoing. Still, I share this because multistakeholderism means more than just showing up. It means creating spaces where all voices, especially those on the margins, can speak without fear.
✍️ Jenna Fung
Toronto, Canada
from a land where I can speak freely