Here’s how the media world works. It discriminates not on the basis of talent, but on the basis of how much wealth your parents have. Unpaid internships and expensive postgraduate qualifications act as filters: no wonder, according to a government study last year, over half of the top British journalists are privately educated in a country where 93% of us attend state schools. All too many of these commentators live in a bubble, patting each other on the back, largely agreeing on the big political issues of the day, quibbling only over nuances. They see themselves as sober, grown-up, mature commentators, and those who deviate from the status quo as rather immature, childish and predictable.

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That’s why I find the smug, self-satisfied backlash against anyone like Russell Brand from this elite grouping so excruciating. These commentators are generally read by few people, and they are content with that, as long as it’s the “right” people – other sober, grown-up, influential people, preferably in positions of power. Young people, as a general rule, are not sharing their articles or TV appearances on their Facebook walls and discussing the issues they raise. Russell Brand, on the other hand, has almost 10 million Twitter followers and more than a million people subscribing to his YouTube channel. Many of his “Trews” videos are watched by hundreds of thousands.

When I’ve visited inner-city schools and universities, I’ve met otherwise disengaged young people encouraged by Brand to discuss issues ranging from the housing crisis to inequality to racism. He has helped to spread awareness of inspiring struggles over housing – often led by working-class women – that are otherwise ignored by the mainstream media. Do all disillusioned young people look up to Brand? Obviously not. But according to a ComRes poll, while just 28% of young people think Brand “doesn’t know what he’s talking about”, another 40% “wish more people like Russell Brand got involved in politics”. Why not engage with these young people?

That doesn’t mean Brand shouldn’t be criticised. He has acknowledged his own problematic attitude towards women; and, like all men, he surely needs to work on it. Sexism is often prevalent among progressive circles, all too frequently marginalised as a secondary issue; or leftish men convince themselves they can’t be sexist because of their right-on politics. Brand was wrong when he infamously advocated not voting. Universal suffrage was won at huge cost and sacrifice by our ancestors. And that’s not a guilt-trip. The fact it was such a struggle is testament to its power: to quote the late Tony Benn, it helped shift power “from the wallet to the ballot box”. Ruling elites feared that universal suffrage would lead to a redistribution of wealth and power – and they were absolutely right.

But, as it happens, Brand’s notorious interview with Jeremy Paxman on Newsnight encouraged a national debate about democracy that was often fascinating and enlightening. The long-term trend of falling turnout – and particularly the disillusionment of young people with formal politics – is not down to Brand’s pronouncements. Responsibility lies with a media and political elite that then has the cheek to suggest a comedian is to blame for turning young people off politics.

So if Ed Miliband, the Labour leader, is interested in novel ways of reaching those practically abandoned by the political elite – even if that invites ridicule – then he should be commended for his bravery. But far more radical action is needed than having an interview with a comedian who has resonated with a lot of disaffected young people.

Those young people who do not have wealthy parents have often suffered the most during this crisis. Their faith in democracy has been often undermined: by the likes of Liberal Democrats at the last election, for example, who promised to deliver free education only to treble tuition fees. They struggle to get secure jobs, even if they saddle themselves with decades of debt because they aspired to a university education. Many of them are foot soldiers in the army of zero-hours workers. Entire professions are almost no-go areas to the unpampered because of unpaid internships and master’s degrees few can afford. They are unlikely to get a council house; their odds of owning their own home have plummeted; and they are left with the insecurity and unaffordable rents of the private rented sector. Their services are often the first to be slashed. Listen to young people: they are knowledgeable about all the problems they face. What is lacking is hope. Apathetic, they’re often called; resigned is more accurate. Politics, rather than offering solutions to their everyday problems, seems remote, abstract, hostile.

In the five years of this government, there has been no shortage of political engagement on the part of the young. The problem is, they engaged on their own terms rather than passively voting every few years – the most restrictive, circumscribed definition of democracy. When tens of thousands protested against tuition fees, the official response was police kettling and batons. They have been at the forefront of campaigns over tax justice and the housing crisis, helping to shift the terms of debate in the process. In Scotland, both during and after the referendum campaign, young people have comprehensively demolished the myth that growing political disengagement is an irreversible onward change. Mainstream politics would do well to acknowledge and even embrace such activism.

There’s no shortage of grassroots campaigners rooted in the lives of young people. Take Reclaim, a charity in Manchester (full disclaimer – I’m a patron) that works to give a platform to working-class young people, to build their confidence, to make their everyday concerns heard. In the aftermath of the 2011 riots, youth community workers organised football matches in Tottenham, followed by discussions with local politicians. These are creative ways of listening to the unheard, helping to erode the all-too-pervasive sense that politics offers few answers to the problems of real life.

Those sneering at Miliband for being interviewed by a much-followed figure should ask themselves: what have I done to engage disillusioned young people who feel politics has little to offer? If the answer is very little, or nothing, then perhaps a bit of humility is in order. It is a matter of deep concern that so many people have so little faith in democracy. If we are going to fix the problem, we should at least start by holding to account our cynical, self-satisfied, unrepresentative media and political elites.