As the mother of a teenage boy, I forced myself to watch Adolescence. You should do the same

Open this photo in gallery:

I tried three times. I kept going on the fourth.

Everyone is talking about Adolescence – a Netflix series about a boy accused of murdering a schoolmate, a girl. This is much more than great television. It offers a horrifying window into that time of life – at a time in the world that is also horrifying.

Adolescence is a very could-this-happen-to-my-family type of experience. With superb acting and writing, it feels very real. This is why I kept abandoning the first episode; it was that upsetting (to me, mother of a teenage boy). But I forced myself to keep watching.

We all should.

The UK-set series deals with online bullying, toxic masculinity, the manosphere. Exposure to these dangers starts a lot earlier than you might expect.

In the first episode, police break down the family’s front door looking for the boy. You think: He’s a child. What could he possibly have done? The sweet little thing wets his pants, he’s so scared.

He’s taken to the police station, where he undergoes a strip search and is afraid to have his blood taken; he is still a child. His dad is present for this, suffering – as are you, the viewer, picturing yourself in his position. We are flies on walls in rooms we never want to inhabit.

We hope and pray that this boy, Jamie, didn’t do it. And wonder, if he did, where did the violence come from? Was it that dad? Did he beat Jamie? Was there sexual abuse?

The detectives visit Jamie’s school, a Lord of the Flies madhouse where students bully classmates and teachers alike. The teenagers do not appear to give a fig about their education, but they’re learning something. They are constantly on their phones.

For anyone thinking: ah, but my province or school board has banned cell phones in schools. Sorry, but LOL. The phones are as ubiquitous as ever, at least according to my source at one large Vancouver high school (see: teenage son, above).

What have those phones – and social media – done to our youth? Do we know what is happening on Snapchat and Instagram? What those emojis actually mean? Even with teachers and parents around, these kids are operating in a world where we are not present. Lord of the Flies indeed.

In the third episode, as Jamie speaks with a psychologist, we see something new in him: sneering, flashes of fury. It’s as if we can hear someone else’s words coming through Jamie’s little mouth. The series demonstrates the power of male energy to dictate the feeling in a room. We see it as Jamie stands over the seated, female psychologist in a threatening manner.

Jamie, we finally learn, wasn’t good at sports and noticed his dad noticing that. Jamie spent a lot of time on his computer in his room, the door closed. He identifies as an incel – involuntary celibate. He’s 13! Where was he learning this stuff? Why wasn’t anyone paying closer attention?

I spent a sleepless night after watching Adolescence going through my son’s social media accounts (the ones I know of) looking for emojis: purple hearts, red pills and, God forbid, kidney beans.

The White Ribbon campaign, which works with men and boys to end violence against women, says 49 per cent of parents are unaware of hateful and sexist content targeting boys. The Toronto-based group’s new initiative My Friend, Max Hate offers a window into what our kids might be doing online while we think they’re playing Minecraft with their pals.

Toxic masculinity has invaded the White House. The misogynist-in-chief is admired by another accused rapist, Andrew Tate, a celebrity woman-hater your boys might be watching. What message does this send? That misogyny is a path to power, respect, fame? Impunity?

“How do we uncouple … maleness from misogyny and male entitlement?” my colleague Rachel Giese asks in Boys: What it Means to Become a Man. Exactly! We want to encourage our boys; we don’t want to disempower them. But we don’t want them to get the wrong message about male power.

Adolescence is reigniting calls for limiting access to smartphones and social media for younger teens. British Prime Minister Keir Starmer said he has been watching the show with his family and that the issue must be tackled.

I encourage other politicians to watch, too. And educators – who should consider showing it to age-appropriate classes. Not all parents will (or can), but I urge you to try.

A TV show cannot save us from toxic masculinity. But it can remind us that there but for the grace of God go us. We can’t just keep our heads in the sand.