A survey jointly published by our colleagues at L’Économiste and Sunergia Groupe, conducted among a sample of young Moroccans, has fueled public debate — or perhaps public buzz — with figures as striking as they are bewildering. According to the survey, 77% of Moroccans aged 15 to 30 oppose equal inheritance rights. 51% support the criminalization of sexual relations outside marriage. 70% oppose allowing unmarried couples to share hotel rooms. And 37% of respondents are reportedly in favor of polygamy. Nothing less.
Before rushing to comment on these findings, however, they deserve at least a brief methodological examination.
The sample of 1,056 respondents, interviewed face-to-face between June 16 and June 30, 2025, is presented as representative of the Moroccan population aged 15 to 30. The announced margin of error is ±3%. Fair enough.
But what the study does not reveal at all is the breakdown of respondents by gender, education level, or socio-economic background for each question. In other words, all responses are presented as absolute truths, with men and women blended together. Yet that is precisely where the key to interpreting this kind of study usually lies. “Normally,” girls and boys may hold divergent views, as might residents of large cities versus smaller towns or rural areas. The same goes for young people with access to higher education or employment compared to those without such opportunities.
Since none of these nuances appear in the study, several observations and comments immediately emerge, even without passing judgment.
It is difficult, for instance, to accept without verification that 77% of the women surveyed would oppose their own equal inheritance rights. Likewise, the claim that 76% of respondents support the wearing of the hijab immediately raises questions when compared to what is visibly observable in the streets, universities, or shopping malls of the country. If women are indeed represented proportionally, why are two-thirds of young women not visibly veiled?
Similarly, the 51% of young people supporting the criminalization of sex outside marriage appear hard to reconcile with the observable behavior of this same generation. Add to that the 37% favoring polygamy, and one again wonders which youth exactly are being described. In a country where the practice, though still legal under restrictive conditions, survives only marginally within very particular socio-economic contexts, are that many young people truly aspiring to generalize such an approach to marriage? Are young Moroccans no longer concerned with education, healthcare, employment opportunities, and future prospects — issues loudly voiced by members of Generation Z in recent protests — but instead eager to embrace social norms that even their own parents no longer practice?
These figures might correspond to a representative sample of Moroccans as a whole — predominantly male, expressing a rather conservative vision of society — and that may indeed reflect part of reality. But if it turns out that our tattooed, K-pop-loving, Toto-fan, English-speaking youth, the same youth seen on Welovebuzz, TikTok, or at the L’Boulevard festival, truly hold such strongly conservative positions, then the conclusion is nothing short of astonishing.
Of course, we will be told that we must stop imposing a progressive, “woke,” and decadent Western vision on our beautiful country with its Islamic and Muslim reference framework. But that is not the issue here at all. The question is whether the behaviors and cultural markers of Moroccan youth as we encounter them daily actually correspond to the results of this survey, presented as representative of such a broad age group and such a large segment of citizens.
Likewise, regarding women and family issues, while His Majesty the King has set in motion a long-awaited reform of the Family Code, is the debate really about excessive feminism and diminishing women’s traditional role as guardians of the home? Or is it about ensuring at least minimal legal protection for women who now, by force of circumstance, work, contribute financially to households they often manage almost alone, and yet continue to face a practical patriarchy justified under theological legitimacy?
All of this suggests that a second interpretation of these findings is possible — namely, that there exists a gap between what people declare and how they actually live, assuming of course that the surveyed sample truly represents Moroccan youth. Morocco is not immune to what sociologists call the “social desirability bias,” the phenomenon whereby respondents adapt their answers to what they perceive as socially expected rather than to what they genuinely practice. A distinctly Moroccan trait, one might say.
“Hchouma,” that structuring form of social shame deeply embedded in Moroccan interactions, seems to play a central role here. People often answer for appearances, for their future children, for social conventions — not necessarily for themselves. One could almost imagine that the young respondents were questioned in the presence of their fathers or mothers, which would perhaps better explain this excess of moral zeal that even their elders no longer genuinely uphold. In short: “Do as I say, not as I do.”
Last but not least, one cannot help but ponder the final question posed to these young respondents in a survey otherwise heavily focused on social norms: “Would you say that the time change disrupts your studies or your work?” What exactly is this question doing alongside topics such as abortion and polygamy? No satisfactory explanation readily comes to mind — unless, of course, the time change alone explains why these young people answered like old people.
Zouhair Yata
