TV series 'Adolescence' exposes how poorly regulated access to digital platforms increases misogynistic content and, therefore, gendered violence, writes Paul Budde.
I RECENTLY WATCHED the four-part Netflix series Adolescence, a raw and unsettling portrayal of teenage life in an era dominated by disconnection, dysfunction and digital overload.
While the series paints an extreme picture, it is a disturbingly recognisable one for anyone paying attention to how social media and smartphones have come to shape the emotional and social worlds of our young people.
This isn't a critique of "today’s youth" — far from it. Most young people, like my grandchildren and many others I know, are growing up in loving families, surrounded by support, empathy and guidance.
But even in the most nurturing environments, the influence of digital culture is inescapable. And for more vulnerable kids, the absence of protective structures – at home, in school, or in society – can be catastrophic.
Adolescence follows a troubled teenage boy as he spirals through toxic relationships and emotional neglect.
But what struck me most was the constant presence of the smartphone – even in classrooms – and not just as a tool for communication, but as a psychological extension of each character. Social media wasn’t just part of the story; it was the story.
Through emoji-laden texts, filtered photos, voyeuristic scrolling and performative posting, we see how identity is now being constructed – and deconstructed – online. What once might have been a diary entry or a whispered secret is now shared, liked, judged and archived forever.
As someone with a background in telecommunications and digital policy, I’ve long argued for a more ethical and human-centred approach to our digital transformation. Yet the pace at which smartphones and social media have embedded themselves into every facet of teenage life has far outstripped our ability, or willingness, to regulate their use.
Parents, educators, as well as policymakers are playing catch-up in a game whereby rules are constantly shifting — largely written by global tech giants with little regard for child development or mental health.
In conversations with parents of family members and friends of teenagers, several rightly pointed out that the real failure isn’t just digital — it’s societal.
We’re outsourcing too much to schools, too late. Schools can’t be expected to discipline, educate, emotionally support and digitally parent all at once, especially when many are under-resourced and overstretched.
The series’ portrayal of a chaotic school environment, where disrespect and disengagement go unchecked, is a worst-case scenario, but it reflects a real anxiety. A school without leadership or consequences becomes not only unsafe, but complicit in the emotional collapse of its students.
An issue I’ve been concerned about for some time is that of unregulated access to digital platforms.
In Adolescence, the boy receives a phone with no parental guidance, no content filtering and no support — just a portal to social comparison, sexualisation and emotional manipulation.
This is not unusual. Phones are introduced with little discussion about responsibility or boundaries. Social media companies remain unaccountable and governments hesitate to act.
Meanwhile, the damage continues — quietly and often invisibly. It is interesting that the UK Government suggested the series should be shown and discussed at schools. Unlike Australia, the UK has not banned the use of mobile phones at schools.
We’ve known for years that exposure to violent pornography, misogynistic content and online hate is reshaping how boys view women and themselves.
But beyond the content itself, the addictive design of platforms, the curated perfectionism of social media and the 24/7 social pressure of group chats are taking a psychological toll.
The consequences are now measurable in rising rates of anxiety, depression and self-harm among teens. In our privileged circle, one of the teenage girls was verbally harassed by a group of boys last week when she was walking home from school.
And yet, as some of my friends and family members reminded me, this is not just about "other people’s kids". It's about the world all our children are growing up in. Even those from secure homes are affected by a broader culture where emotional regulation is scarce, empathy is undervalued and children are left to navigate complex adult worlds — often alone.
The systems we once trusted – education, justice, childcare, even government – are too often failing the most vulnerable.
One of my friends also made a powerful point: women have long been raising the alarm on these issues — in classrooms, healthcare, forums and community networks.
But if we want real change, men must step up, too. As fathers, grandfathers, businesspeople and citizens, we need to speak out about the impacts of digital culture, gendered violence and the undervaluing of parenting as society’s most essential role.
Adolescence is fiction, yes — but its resonance lies in how closely it mirrors a growing reality. Watching it reminded me not just of my own teenage insecurities but of the vast new terrain today’s teens must navigate, much of it online and without clear guidance.
We owe it to them – and to society – to do better.
Paul Budde is an IA columnist and managing director of independent telecommunications research and consultancy Paul Budde Consulting. You can follow Paul on Twitter/X @PaulBudde.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Australia License
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