Adolescence: Missing the Woods for the Trees

Despite my usual scepticism of Netflix originals that suddenly attract mainstream attention before quickly disappearing from popular consciousness as yet another victim of the insatiable attention economy, I thoroughly enjoyed Adolescence. The series commands tone effortlessly, shifting from a tired desperation to tender moments of familial domesticity, back to a haunting anticipation as the story slowly reveals the nature of Jamie’s crime. It is no wonder Adolescence is garnering such critical acclaim. Both for its quality as a television series, but more importantly for the nuanced approach it takes to exploring complex issues of masculinity, generational trauma, and family bonds, it deserves its praise.

Intrinsic to Adolescence’s quick surge in popularity is, undeniably, its decision to centre Jamie’s killing of his female classmate Katie within a wider discussion surrounding the threats of online radicalisation and misogyny for young boys. In several interviews, one of the show’s creators, Stephen Graham, stated that he was initially motivated to co-write the show in response to a series of brutal stabbings of young girls by young boys around Britain. The question Adolescence attempts to answer, that of how a 13-year-old boy comes to kill his female classmate, is therefore a fundamentally sociopolitical one. In this way, it is more useful to approach the series as a starting point for a broader discourse on modern misogyny and internet radicalisation rather than as an attempt to solve a problem that has been festering in the public realm for quite some time.

A good starting point for this conversation is acknowledging that this show is predominantly made for adults and the parents of Jamie’s generation in the real world.

Adolescence ‘explores’ a subject matter which most people under the age of 25 have been keenly aware of since just after the pandemic. The name-dropping of the ‘manosphere’ and Andrew Tate in the second episode would send any teenager’s eyes rolling into the back of their heads as the show’s police officers struggle to decipher the cryptic emojis left in the suspect’s Instagram comments. The entirety of the show, in fact, is framed as a process of discovery by the adults, whether that be Jamie’s parents, Ashley Walter’s character, or the psychiatrist in episode 3, as to Jamie’s motive for killing his female classmate.

Through the naivete of its adult characters, Adolescence puts forward a range of interpretations of Jamie’s actions, which are undoubtedly important for understanding the anxieties of the modern man. The third episode, in particular, featuring a BAFTA-worthy performance from Owen Cooper in his first-ever acting role, acts as a window into the inner psyche of a young boy struggling to comply with the masculine gender norms handed down to him by his father. Specifically, Jamie’s neglect of his innate skill for drawing, as he is pushed into playing football by his father despite his lack of ability, is a tragic vignette of many young boys’ attempts to fit into an inherently inaccessible masculine mould and the anxiety they feel when they inevitably fail.

The inclusion of Eddie and DI Luke Bascombe, played by Stephen Graham and Ashley Walters, respectively, further contextualises and enriches Adolescence’s portrayal of masculinity and how it is shaped by the men that came before. Both fathers are self-admittedly absent from their children’s lives, and when they are together with their sons on screen, both of these male role models are emotionally absent. In Bascombe’s case, throughout episode 2, we see him realise the error in his ways, and at the end of the episode, we watch him leave to spend some quality time with his son, a heartfelt moment made even more touching by Walters’ sincere smile. Eddie, however, realises the effect his detached parenting style has had on his son too late when Jamie is already awaiting trial for murder. In one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire series, he asks himself the question of whether the anger he carries as a result of his father’s abuse was passed down to his son as a result of his parenting.

Adolescence’s emphasis on its central characters’ emotional journey through the turmoil caused by Jamie’s murder is understandable from a writer’s perspective. Its character-driven narrative allows the audience to bond with the characters and have that bond questioned as we learn more about them. However, the show subtly alludes to the fact that arriving at a holistic understanding of the issue Adolescence presents will take much more than a surface-level analysis of its characters’ actions.

In many ways, the show takes a very individualistic approach to exploring its central question: why did Jamie kill Katie? Questions are asked about his use of social media, Katie’s supposed bullying of Jamie, and the limits of his parents’ ability to rescue him before it was too late. Despite subtle allusions to the context in which these characters exist, including Eddie’s irregular working hours, the temptations of social media, and the broken school system, the story mostly focuses on their status as free agents. 

References are made to the harmful potential of social media and the internet, but the series does not question why these apps are so toxic. Similarly, it is clear that the school Jamie attends is not equipped to teach its students effectively or protect them from harassment, but a broader look into the reasons behind the dire state of public education is notably amiss. Finally, it is clear that Eddie’s occupation within the gig economy, having to work out-of-hours jobs, prevents him from being a stable father figure for Jamie. However, the show does not go further in portraying this economic precarity as a reason why many boys around the country might take to online communities such as the manosphere, which help them feel in control of their lives.

This lack of a structural frame of analysis within the show mirrors its reception in the mainstream, notably by the Government itself. Keir Starmer’s support of an initiative to show Adolescence in schools in an effort to raise awareness about online misogyny is characteristically tone-deaf, given the show criticises the lazy use of videos to educate the children in Jamie’s school. This is, of course, less than a week after Labour failed to confirm more funding for schools in its Spring Statement and is set to send 250,000 people, including 50,000 children, into relative poverty. 

Most egregiously, a serious structural analysis is missing from the show’s portrayal of, and the surrounding discourse regarding, online radicalisation. The last scene of Adolescence's final episode centres around Eddie’s sense of guilt for losing his son, where minutes before, both parents were questioning the role they played in sending their son down the wrong path. In the real world, the debate regarding young people’s exposure to dangerous content on social media has considered educating children on the harms of algorithms, forcing sites to remove harmful content, or banning social media altogether.

Although well-intentioned, these solutions add nothing new to a discussion that has for decades now understood the harms of social media and the need to protect children from it. Absent from the conversation is a serious attempt to scrutinise social media companies that design their content algorithms specifically to promote the most extreme content and profit from the online engagement it brings. As we saw in Myanmar in 2016, the phenomena of violent outbursts as a result of online radicalisation are well understood, yet the culprits, given their extraordinary lobbying budgets, are not made to face any material consequences.

Education as to the potential dangers of social media is evidently fundamental to the protection of children. It should also go without saying that parents’ awareness of the content their children consume online can help build up a first line of defence against radicalisation at home. The problem is that a restless, fine-tuned algorithm feeding increasingly radical content to young boys 8 hours a day will wipe the slate clean of any progress made at home or in class. This is if parents are not already exhausted from working all day during a cost-of-living crisis, and schools are not scraping around for enough money to prevent their roofs from caving in. 

A shift in perspective is required to solve the issue presented in Adolescence, and it starts with understanding that the story of a 13 year-old kid stabbing his female classmate is a feature, not a bug, of the online world.

Image: Wikimedia Commons/IMP Awards (Netflix)

Licence: fair use.

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