Adolescence isn’t really a show just about Incels and online misogyny- and is showing it in schools actually the answer we’ve been looking for?
These topics are only one part of this story, so what else is Adolescence telling us to pay attention to? Regardless of your own take, Adolescence is undoubtedly a compelling and powerful series. Unlike many shows, it doesn’t give us definitive moral answers and as an audience, we are left with many questions.
The storyline focuses around Jamie, the 13 year old who is accused of fatally stabbing his classmate, Katie. We empathise with this small child as we see his traumatic arrest, his accounts of online bullying, and his deep battle with self-esteem as he begs his psychologist to tell him that she likes him, “even just a bit”. The final shot leaves us with his soft toy tucked up in his bedroom at home. And yet, we also get a Jamie who refuses to take accountability for ending someone’s life and gloats in his capacity to intimidate women.
Jamie’s father features prominently too. We see his love, his care, his grief, his displays of anger, his shame at having a son who was no good at football. We see him grapple with the impossible question of the show - how did Jamie turn into a killer? Was it his upbring and his father’s influence? Was it his unregulated exposure to the online world of influencers who dictate what a man should be? Was it the bullying and rejection from his peers, including Katie?
For Our Streets Now, and so many others doing this work everyday in schools, we welcome the renewed sense of urgency that Netflix’s Adolescence has brought to the way that the online world creates offline harm. Unhealthy, or ‘toxic’ masculinity promoted by online influencers, by this I mean the pressure on boys to be dominant, sexually confident, emotionless, is undoubtedly linked to the normalisation of sexual violence.
But, we are wary of the direction this conversation is taking. Misogyny, sexual violence, racism, homophobia and the relentless objectification of women’s bodies were not created by social media. And no, Gareth Southgate, it didn’t start with video games either.
“Don’t cry. Don’t be gay. Don’t be a girl. Don’t be a virgin.”
Whether said directly or indirectly, boys hear these messages over and over as they grow up. Tate and influencers like him are simply building on a pretty established base of misogyny in homes and in schools. For Jamie, it’s on the football field where he encounters some of these pressures. He tells his psychologist, “He [Jamie’s Dad] used to take me to football, this football thing on Saturdays. He’d cheer me on but when I’d fuck up he’d just look away”. We find out later that the other fathers watching would also mock Jamie.
As Karen Whybro so poignantly asked this week, “we teach boys to want to be footballers then wonder why they idolise money and abusive men?” And as poignantly highlighted by Everyday Racism, “we must also be mindful of how these discussions have been widely absent of adultification and how this would have played out if Jamie was a young black boy”.
One of the more subtle yet not talked about aspects of the show is the framing and language used around its female characters. His Mum being the one who remembers about his intolerances and fear of needles, but the only thing Jamie says of her is that she “makes a good roast” (and is later seen in the kitchen cooking breakfast on Eddie’s birthday). In fact, do we even remember his Mum’s name? His sister being praised for taking everything in her stride when she is only 17. The female teacher forgetting the female police officer's name when introducing her to the class after just being told to “shut up miss”. The psychologist clearly feeling uncomfortable with the over friendly police officer who thinks he could easily do her job. The store worker in the DIY shop sharing a mutual hatred of women.
“Everyone will remember Jamie. No one will remember her”.
Blink and you could miss some of these moments. But for most women, girls and people of marginalised genders watching this show, these everyday, “minor” occurrences are an all too familiar reminder of the systems we live in that set the foundation for this radical misogyny to breed.
“As a teacher myself, the episode in the school doesn’t even scratch the surface of what it’s like to be a young female in education these days. I have marked books that have had Andrew Tate’s name graffitied on the front cover. I have called out and passed on endless comments from teenage boys, some quite literally inciting hatred and violence, some, a lot more subtle that have been passed off by male colleagues. I have had 14 year old boys removed from my class because of the sexually explicit, aggressive comments they have made towards me. I have countless female students come and talk to me about their experiences. Only last week, a female colleague had to call out two 17/18 year old boys for talking in class about women and sex in an explicit, inappropriate and very demeaning way, in a room full of female peers and in front of a young, female member of staff.” says Georgia Theodoulou, senior campaigner and Head of Sports at OSN.
However, it’s much easier to talk about sexual violence when we can put it in the box of not our problem. And pointing at the distant issue of online influencers is surely easier and more comfortable than reflecting on our own behaviour; the language we’ve used towards peers at school, the way we’ve raised our children, or the times we’ve stood by and said nothing when jokes are made at others’ expense.
Issy Warren, OSN’s Head of Schools and Programmes writes: “The uncomfortable reality is that, like the characters in the show, we are all both victims and perpetrators of a culture of gender based violence. Let’s not be so quick to outsource a problem that we have all had a hand in creating. I reflect on the way I blamed and shamed the girls at school who had their nudes shared around, because I didn’t know better. I still catch myself now when I tease my male friends more harshly, expecting them to just be able to take it.”
Adolescence is a brilliant start to this conversation, but it is not the end of it. The writers have been invited to Parliament, and many are proclaiming it mandatory viewing for parents, teachers and students alike. The reaction to this has been unprecedented, particularly compared with other recent shows which do an outstanding job of highlighting the saliency of gender based violence, as well as managing to show the intersecting dimensions of racism and homophobia. I May Destroy You, Sex Education, Unbelievable and Heartstopper, just to name a few.
This leaves us with an uncomfortable question - do we find it easier to empathise with male perpetrators of gender-based violence than we do with the women and girls who experience it?
Yes, men and boys are deeply harmed by unhealthy expectations around masculinity, and most perpetrators are undoubtedly victims of harm themselves. It is a crucial angle to consider, but it is just one part of the story. And as a society, we are still struggling with an overwhelming lack of empathy for the victim of sexual violence, who are too often blamed and shamed themselves, or dismissed in favour of the argument that an accusation would ‘ruin a bright young man’s life’.
So how do we move forward?
“I am sceptical about the effectiveness of social media bans, and we are unlikely to see much progress on online regulation in the current political climate.” says Issy.
“What we can do is to teach all young people to recognise and critique harmful messages about masculinity and relationships, not just in porn, but in their favourite films, in phrases their parents use, in music lyrics. We need more role models who show boys that there is more than one way of being a man. We need to build critical thinking skills by having conversations, not shutting boys down.”
Georgia agrees and adds: “I don’t think showing the programme in schools is the answer, though. Adolescence is a brilliant piece of media and I am really heartened by the conversations it’s starting with adults. But to show this in schools, to children and expect them to apply the critical thinking, communication or self reflection skills to be able to engage with it in a meaningful and not harmful way, is a big risk. I also worry about the further burden that puts on teachers, who may also not feel comfortable or confident navigating conversations around some really sensitive issues. The show has also highlighted the generation-gap, with so much for us adults to learn about the world and culture our young people are living in. This idea from the PM, whilst it has good intentions, is a quick-fix to a much more complex problem that needs a much deeper and nuanced solution, like high-quality education throughout the education system, for staff and young people.”
Our Streets Now does a fantastic job of talking to boys about sexual violence, by treating them as a potential part of the solution, not as a problem to be solved. We meet them where they’re at, we find commonality between our values and theirs, and then we teach them to question, to challenge and to empathise.
