Adolescence - The Uncomfortable Truths About Online Misogyny

If, like us, you have been gripped by Stephen Graham’s timely series Adolescence, it is likely your head has been whurring with questions and concerns over the topic of incel culture and online misogyny. We take a look at some of the questions that came to mind while watching.

P.S. Spoiler alert… watch the first few episodes and come back to us.  

Incel or not?  

First, there’s the lingering question of whether Jamie actively immersed himself in and subscribed to incel philosophies. In some ways, though, the extent of his proactive involvement is irrelevant.

Social media is saturated with misogynistic content, meaning Jamie would have been exposed to these ideas regardless, with them slowly becoming normalised. Research, such as that from the University of Dublin, has demonstrated this phenomenon.

What we do know from his police interview is that he had been making sexually aggressive comments on pictures of models online.

We also see a contradiction within Jamie—a clash between his developing ideas of masculinity (likely absorbed from external sources) and his deep-rooted fragility. When we first meet him, he is a terrified child, even wetting himself in fear. Yet, at the same time, we see a pervasive need to be liked and accepted. His oscillation between these two states is particularly evident in his interactions with the psychologist in episode three.

So, did Jamie actively buy into the ideologies of figures like Andrew Tate? That remains unclear. But what is clear is the insidious nature of these ideas seeping into his developing sense of self. The danger lies not just in direct indoctrination, but in the slow drip-feed of harmful messaging that embeds itself into a young mind.

This likely fueled Jamie’s sense of entitlement, which morphed into a desperate need for control—and, ultimately, violence when that control was threatened. We see this in his reaction to Katie’s rejection, which resulted in her brutal murder. We also see glimpses of it in his sessions with the psychologist, especially in moments where he feels the dynamic shifting out of his control.

Another significant theme is the idea of assigning “value” to people, a concept deeply rooted in the manosphere. Jamie perceives Katie as a “low-value female” after her intimate images are shared among her classmates. To him, this act has “devalued” her, making her a more attainable prospect—yet, despite this, she still dares to reject him.

This exposes the deeply dehumanizing nature of these belief systems. Reducing a person’s worth to an arbitrary scale is not only illogical but also strips them of their humanity. And when someone is dehumanized, does it become easier to justify violence against them? We would argue that it does—especially against those deemed of “low value.”

For Jamie, the outrage of being rejected by a girl he saw as beneath him collides with the vulnerability of putting himself out there—dressed in his best trackies, nervously asking her out. Again, we witness his internal conflict—his constant shifting between aggression and insecurity.

Not the “Perfect Victim”

One of the most striking elements in Adolescence is the subtle questioning of whether Katie fits the mould of the “perfect victim.” There are allusions to her being a bully, hinting at her possible culpability. This is an important—and troubling—facet to consider. The idea of a “perfect victim” is something we actively reject, as it has consistently stifled our ability to take gender-based violence seriously. Whether in cases of sexual, domestic, or interpersonal violence, this pervasive notion distracts from the real issue and prevents swift, adequate responses.

The show leads us to consider Katie’s role in Jamie’s fragile sense of masculinity—her rejection of him, which he perceives as mocking and cruel, only deepens his growing sense of entitlement and need for control. If bullying behaviors were present, they may have poked at his insecurities, but they did not create his capacity for violence. She is not to blame. Many people experience bullying, rejection, and cruelty, yet very, very few go on to commit murder. Adolescence forces us to look beyond the surface and ask: What made this case different?

Yes, we know this is fiction, but it mirrors reality in disturbing ways. In online discussions about the show, I’ve seen people instinctively say, “Well, yes, but she was bullying him…”—even in a story about the violent murder of a child. The reflex to find mitigation for the aggressor, without prompt or encouragement, is not just unhelpful—it’s terrifying.

Us, the Audience

This thread runs throughout the show, but it became particularly stark in moments where the camera is turned on us—forcing us to confront our own shortcomings in how we deal with these issues.

We see it in the detective, fumbling through the case, failing to recognize the culture his own son exists within. We see it in Jade’s misplaced rage, lashing out at a boy only loosely connected to the murder. In the ill-conceived vigilante justice—a slur on Eddie’s van, meant to shame but missing the mark entirely. In the well-meaning yet misinformed worker at Wainwrights, spreading speculation instead of truth. In Jamie’s parents, desperately picking apart their parenting, searching for some way to make sense of the horror. These aren’t just plot points; they reflect real-life tropes that play out over and over again.

Then there’s Jamie’s peers—the ones who colluded, watched without truly seeing, and in a chilling moment, literally handed him the knife. Societally, we need to ask ourselves: When we fail to take misogyny, violence, and radicalization seriously, how often are we metaphorically handing someone the knife?

It’s easier to take a binary stance—to hate, blame, or shift responsibility elsewhere. It’s much harder to sit with uncomfortable truths and complex realities. We are witnessing the mass radicalization of boys and young men through the manosphere. Not just the obvious followers of figures like Andrew Tate, but the slow, insidious drip-feed of his ideology through social media.

We like to call perpetrators “monsters”—just as we saw in the Pelicot case. But that others them; it allows us to pretend they are incomprehensible, separate, nothing like us. It keeps us from facing the real, human factors that lead to these acts of violence. And in doing so, we distance ourselves from responsibility.The truth is, none of us are just one thing. A girl can be unkind, and still not be a deserving victim. A boy can commit an unthinkable crime, yet still have his own vulnerabilities and fragility.

At the end of Episode 1, Jamie pleads with his father to believe he is innocent. We are right there with Eddie in that horrifying moment in which Jamie’s innocence is lost, in both senses. The worlds of both Katie’s and Jamie’s families are crumbling and the line between victim and aggressor becomes muddied in the dark waters of ideology.