We like to believe we know what shapes our children—their schools, their friendships, our values. But the reality is far more unsettling. Adolescence, Netflix’s gripping new drama, forces us to confront an urgent truth: the internet is raising them, often in ways we don’t see, don’t understand and aren’t prepared for.
Just last week, I was speaking about the urgent need to safeguard children from social media after LBC’s awareness day. Now, Adolescence has arrived as a stark reminder of just how dangerous this unchecked digital world can be. It’s no coincidence that this conversation is dominating the news—it should be. Because we are in the middle of a crisis, and this series makes it impossible to look away.
This is not just a crime drama—it is a warning. The show follows a boy who, on the surface, seems like any other but beneath that, it unpacks something far more alarming: how online spaces are shaping boys in ways parents and teachers don’t see. Research shows that 69% of boys aged 11-14 have already been exposed to online misogyny. Knife crime among teenagers has surged 240% in a decade. Meanwhile, violence against women and girls is escalating, with social media fueling dangerous narratives about power, entitlement and control.
What makes Adolescence so powerful is how recognisable its central character is. He is not an outcast or a criminal stereotype. He is a boy who stays up late on his computer. Who follows the wrong people online. Who absorbs content that distorts his perception of relationships and masculinity. And, like so many boys today, he is being shaped not by parents, teachers, or mentors but by an algorithm that rewards extreme views and a digital world that lacks accountability.
As a psychotherapist, I see how many parents assume their child is safe simply because they are at home. But home is no longer the protective bubble it once was. The most dangerous influences don’t need to be physically present—they just need to be accessible on a screen. Boys aren’t just stumbling upon harmful content; they are being led there, groomed by influencers who tell them masculinity is about dominance, that rejection is humiliation and that women are the enemy.
This is why Adolescence matters—it forces us to ask: Would we even know if this was happening to our child? Because for too many parents, the answer is no. That has to change.
We cannot afford to wait until tragedy strikes before we act. Parents must be engaged in their children’s digital lives, talking openly about what they’re watching, challenging harmful narratives and ensuring they have spaces to process emotions in a healthy way. Schools must take misogyny and online radicalisation seriously, addressing these issues before they escalate. Tech companies must be held accountable for content that profits from pushing young boys toward extremist views. And, crucially, men must step up—because male violence is not a women’s issue, it’s a men’s issue that needs male leadership to solve.
The most devastating part of Adolescence is not just the crime at its centre—it’s the realisation of all the missed opportunities to intervene. We cannot afford to keep missing them. This series has delivered a clear warning. The question is: will we listen? Or will we wait until it’s too late—again?