Are any of us cut out to raise today’s kids?

To parent or not to parent, that is the question that Adolescence asks

It didn’t take much to sell me on watching Netflix’s new show Adolescence—all I needed to hear was “limited series” and “one-shot filming” (because I took one film theory class in college, and now I like to throw around the term mise-en-scene whenever there’s an opportunity).

The show opens with an army of police officers barging into a family’s home and arresting a 13-year-old boy, Jamie, for the suspicion of murder. Immediately following a reading of his Miranda rights, Jamie is revealed to have wet his pants during the altercation.

Surely, the poor kid is innocent; there must be some confusion. Even when his dad, Eddie, asks him directly, “Did you do it?” Jamie denies any involvement.

For the majority of episode one, you’re trying to decipher Jamie’s reactions and behaviors. Could he have done it?

But then, as Eddie speaks with Jamie’s lawyer, who explains that there must be compelling evidence for his arrest, doubt creeps in. And when the CCTV footage is revealed at the end of the episode, the case is closed—he did it.

But the question is, why? What compels a 13-year-old boy to murder his classmate?

The first episode sets the scene, but each of the three following episodes unfolds subsequently telling another crucial part or perspective of the story. I could go on about each one, but here’s the gist:

• Episode 2 takes us to the most terrifying setting of the series—a modern-day middle school—to provide a look at how complex teenage social structures may have contributed to the crime.

• Episode 3 focuses on a breathtaking dialogue between Jamie and the psychologist evaluating him for the case. This conversation unearths Jamie’s motivations, and the performance alone is Emmy-worthy (with The Sandwich deserving Best Supporting Actor).

• Episode 4 delves into the age-old debate of nature vs nurture. It provides a harrowing glimpse into how Jamie’s actions affect his family, forcing his parents to question where they went wrong.

While Adolescence raises many thought-provoking themes, one unexpected takeaway for me was its exploration of motherhood—or more specifically, the decision to have children at all.

The weight of uncertainty

I’m a 30-year-old hetero female (girl? Woman? What are we calling ourselves nowadays?). I live in New York City. I’m currently single. And I’m unsure about having kids, though I’m leaning slightly more towards wanting them (let’s call it a 60/40 split). But that’s to say I don’t feel strongly one way or another—at this point, I wouldn’t be devastated by either outcome.

It’s now socially acceptable for women to opt out of motherhood, but what’s less discussed is the uncertainty many of us feel. If you’re certain you want kids or certain you don’t, you have a plan—or at least, a plan in theory. A starting point. If you’re unsure, everything feels up in the air.

For better or for worse, I’m not much of a future tripper. I hate the question, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years,” because quite frankly, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m happy with where I am now. But the question of whether to have children is one I eventually need to answer.

Adolescence highlights some important considerations I hadn’t thought about, mainly about the uncertain future of raising children.

Sure, it’s a fictional show. But it brings to light a stark reality—the challenges facing tweens and teens today are far darker and more complex than they were for previous generations.

Middle school isn’t what it used to be

The boys are deathly afraid of being labeled “incels.” The girls are looking for validation by sending out topless Snapchats.

I’m not going to sit here and say I was innocent or that I didn’t get into trouble in my teenage years. I had my fair share of rebellious moments, to put it lightly—or to put it more accurately, I’m not sure how my relationship with my mom survived my high school years.

But the issues today’s children face arise earlier and manifest in more extreme ways.

Of course, there was bullying, peer pressure, and social media when I was in grade school—but getting 4 likes on an Instagram post was considered an accomplishment, and a Facebook poke was the most effective way to get a guy’s attention.

On the contrary, there’s a scene where the lead investigator’s son, Adam, is explaining some of the coded meanings of emojis among his classmates.

A heart is no longer just a heart. The color of the heart indicates much more. “Red means love. Purple: horny. Yellow: 'I’m interested, are you interested?’ Pink: 'I’m interested but not in sex.' Orange: 'You’re going to be fine,’” explains Adam. “It all has a meaning."

And it’s true. The internet and social media, as well as the rate of technological advancements, have accelerated societal pressures for kids at an alarming rate.

This show underlines how detrimental social media can be to developing minds and how scary male loneliness can be. It spotlights how the opinions of dangerous thinkers like Andrew Tate can shape kids’ worldviews, despite how nurturing their parents are.

And Adolescence only scratches the surface of the ways kids are uniquely affected by the perils of modern society.

At one point, Jamie claims the CCTV video could have been manipulated and says it’s “fake news.” The show doesn’t dwell on this, but it’s a reminder that deepfakes and AI will further complicate how kids interact with reality.

Additionally, the show hardly explores the female perspective. Katie, the victim, is primarily defined by the events leading to her death rather than as a fully fleshed-out character. This absence leaves a gap in the show’s social commentary.

So while there’s an obvious message around the critical importance of raising teen boys right, where does this leave us with the girls?

What does it mean to be a good parent?

Adolescence shows us that there’s so much that happens behind (literal) closed doors, it begs the question, how big of a role can parents even play in their children's upbringing when they’re also so broadly exposed to—and brought up by—the rest of the world

Part of what makes the writing of this show so good is that it doesn’t lean on cliches or obvious character tropes. Jamie did not murder his classmate because his parents were abusive, angry, or otherwise abhorrent. They weren’t raging alcoholics, nor were they morally questionable.

In fact, they were fairly even-keeled, run-of-the-mill parents—aside from some innocuous, one-off events—made all the more evident by the depiction of their older daughter who seemed to have turned out just fine.

In this way, Adolescence functions as a Black Mirror-esque examination of the risk of being a quote-on-quote normal parent.

I’m not going to pretend I’m familiar with even a fraction of the issues today’s parents face raising their kids. But that’s the scary part—no one can anticipate all the potential issues that are arising for today’s kids. It’s uncharted territory.

Who is equipped to raise future generations?

Part of the reason I’m unsure about having kids is the responsibility. The other part is the current climate and state of the world—do I feel like we, as a society, are in a good enough spot where I want to bring children in? Not necessarily.

But I always say, if I knew my future kids would be “good kids,” it would make the decision to have them a lot easier. What I worry about is raising children who throw tantrums in restaurants and make me question my life choices every time we board a plane.

But Adolescence presents an even scarier possibility—that Jamie’s parents’ experience could happen to anyone. That you could do everything right, or at least good enough, and still create a monster.

Unsolicited hot take incoming: I think a lot of people are far too casual about the decision to have kids. It is, and has always been, a massive undertaking that many don’t consider fully—which, to be fair, I know is an effect of societal norms and expectations.

But Adolescence challenges us to more deeply contemplate the question, am I cut out to be a parent today? I still don’t know the answer for myself, but I think it’s something we should be thinking long and hard about before we say yes.