by Robert Poole
Like most of the country, I have been enthralled by the Netflix limited series Adolescence. It is a great piece of drama, with fantastic acting — especially from some of the younger cast — and Stephen Graham shows that he is one of the finest working-class actors of our time. The claustrophobic shooting style — one single continuous, real-time shot per episode — is fascinating to watch and makes for an intense viewing experience.
It also leaves us constantly wanting to know more about what is happening off-screen and leaves us with more questions than answers by the end of the series.
But beneath the artistic excellence lies a dangerous narrative that’s been seized upon by those with political agendas, and it’s crucial we understand what’s really happening with our young people before we draw the wrong conclusions.
The show centres around the murder of a young girl called Katie and the arrest of 13-year-old Jamie Miller, played by 15-year-old Owen Cooper, on suspicion of murder. The first episode is a did-he-didn’t-he affair, where the boy convincingly tells the police, his family, and the audience that he didn’t do anything. Such is the high quality of the acting that he had me convinced for a while.
But this virtuosity masks a deep flaw, namely: the misrepresentation of education itself.
The second episode delves into Jamie’s school life, and this is where the troubling narratives begin. The scenes shot inside the school were frustrating to watch as a teacher.
They depict a beautiful school with lovely displays and well-resourced classrooms, where the teachers turn up late, stick a video on, and the (working-class) kids run wild. This has riled up educators, particularly when the main police officer asks after his visit, “What are they learning in there?” — to which the other detective replies that there are “some good teachers.”
A better and more realistic characterisation would have been of overworked and underpaid teachers doing their best in challenging conditions. Faced with decades of underinvestment and a teacher retention crisis, many schools are at breaking point. The show feeds into the popular narrative of lazy teachers and out-of-control schools.
Our Prime Minister has well and truly jumped on the bandwagon, stating that the series should be shown in schools, and Netflix has agreed to allow schools to stream it for free. He clearly misses the irony that the show criticises teachers for putting on a film rather than teaching, yet now we are being told that this is exactly what we should do.
I saw a meme in which someone stated that we should all “remember to clap on our doorsteps at 8pm for Adolescence.” This is obviously a joke but reflects the performative nature of British politics. Five years ago the government encouraged us to “clap for NHS heroes” whilst simultaneously ignoring scientific advice and putting the lives of workers at risk, now we are being told we should be showing our children a TV drama rather than addressing the root causes of the crisis of adolescence.
If behaviour truly is a growing problem in schools — and a 2024 survey by the National Education Union found 47 per cent of respondents citing behaviour as a major cause of stress — we must examine the structural causes. Decades of austerity, including devastating cuts to Children and Adolescent Mental Health Services, must take centre stage in any honest analysis.
We must also consider the increasing alienation among young people. What does the future look like for a teenager living in Britain in 2025? Climate change, unaffordable housing, a cost-of-living crisis, and the ever-present threat of global conflict. In 2023, a report showed that only 15 per cent of British teens feel optimistic about the future. This context matters when we consider how young people are behaving, both online and offline.
But what are the real roots of radicalisation?
Episode three introduces a psychologist who attempts to unpick Jamie’s concept of masculinity, his relationship with his father and his views on women. One success of the show is raising public awareness about the dangers of online radicalisation, particularly of young men by online influencers like Andrew Tate. However, I worry that many viewers and commentators have drawn the wrong conclusions.
The moral panic seems to be centring around mobile phone usage. There has been a recent backlash against mobile phones among young people, and probably for good reason. They provide instant access to vast amounts of information and have revolutionised communication. They have the potential to aid organisation and democratise knowledge, but they also expose children — often against their will — to content we wouldn’t normally want them to see.
The NEU general secretary posted on Twitter that the most jarring line for him was when Jamie told a psychologist, “Yeah, but everyone has watched porn.” While maybe not everybody, a report by the British Board of Film Classification found that 51 per cent of 11 to 13-year-olds had seen pornography.
The Department for Education has made it a statutory requirement to teach about its harms, and rightly so. But the ease of access, along with the negative messages it promotes about women’s roles, sexual norms, and body image, remains a massive concern.
The deeper issue, though, goes beyond technology. We have a generation of young men raised on a diet of misogynistic pornography while feeling powerless in a late-capitalist society that seems to shun them, if not demonise them. Deindustrialisation and the loss of traditional, unionised jobs have left large sections of society alienated.
The traditional left would have been able to channel this anger towards the true cause: the class system. But in a hyper-individualistic society that has waged an ideological war against the very concept of class, where do young men turn for answers?
Sadly, they look to those who claim to have them. Adolescence references The Matrix — the red pill/blue pill choice representing a choice between learning the truth about the world or remaining in blissful ignorance of reality.
The “manosphere,” conspiracy theorists, and the far right offer easy answers and ready scapegoats: Can’t get a job? Blame immigrants. Can’t get a girlfriend? It’s because “80 per cent of women chase 20 per cent of men.” Can’t afford a house? You’re lazy — get a side hustle and join this pyramid scheme.
One thing I do agree on is the need to raise consciousness, not the false consciousness of Tate, Jordan Peterson, Nigel Farage, or Donald Trump, but class consciousness. Class consciousness means recognising that while the right claims to be anti-elite, what they’re really doing is protecting class relations. Where they offer solidarity, it’s in the name of nationalism or white supremacy not collective liberation.
Graham has stated in interviews that the inspiration for the series came from the violent murders of Ava White, Brianna Ghey and Elianne Andam. Sadly, violence against women and girls is not a new phenomenon and has existed far longer than Snapchat, social media and mobile phones.
Not far from where I live on Holcombe Moor, Ramsbottom, there is an ancient cairn that marks the spot where Ellen Strange was killed by her husband in 1761. A yearly pilgrimage takes place by members of the Bolton Trades Union Council and others to commemorate one of the first recorded victims of domestic violence.
I say recorded because Ellen Strange was definitely not the first victim. This historical perspective reminds us that while technology may have changed the form of misogyny, its roots run much deeper in our society.
So, what can we do?
As educators, we have a duty to prepare our young people for the future, to teach them to think critically and to equip them with the tools to navigate this new digital world. This means having honest conversations about pornography, misogyny, and online radicalisation, but also about class, solidarity, and collective action.
As socialists, we must provide answers in a space otherwise filled with hateful influencers and scornful liberals. We must show young people that their alienation is not inevitable but the product of political choices. We must offer them hope not through individualism but through collective struggle.
Rather than simply showing Adolescence in schools, we need comprehensive media literacy programmes, an end to austerity, meaningful mental health support, and educational approaches that acknowledge the systemic nature of the problems our young people face.
Most importantly, we need to give them the tools to imagine and build a better world — one where the anxieties and alienation so powerfully portrayed in Adolescence are no longer the norm.
Robert Poole is a teacher and head of PSHCE in a secondary school in the north of England. He is also assistant district secretary and union representative for the National Education Union and editor of
the journal of progressive education: Education for Tomorrow. This article is republished from the Morning Star.
See also this review, by Dennis Broe.
