What 'Adolescence' gets right (and wrong) about the manosphere

In the final episode of Netflix's harrowing miniseries, "," the parents of Jamie Miller—the 13-year-old boy accused of killing a girl at his school that precipitates the events of the show—grapple with the question of how much responsibility they bear as the people who raised a potentially violent murderer.
As they come to terms with what they could have done to prevent it, they are comforted by their daughter, Lisa, whose sensitivity and sweetness are starkly at odds with Jamie's cruelty.
"How did we make her, hey?" Eddie, Jamie's dad, asks his wife, Manda.
"The same way we made him," she answers.
For as dark as Netflix's "Adolescence" is, its final message is one, perhaps not of hope, but of uncertainty.
How is it that the same home environment, the same parents, the same upbringing, can produce such vastly different children?
It is this question—and its answer—that gets to the heart of the show's success: there is no straightforward reason as to how or why young people are radicalized to commit extreme acts of violence.
The complex web of factors that coalesce to create adolescent murderers is vast and amorphous.
Having spent several years —the umbrella term for a range of interconnected online anti-feminist communities, including men's rights activists, pick-up artists and incels—I know this first-hand.
What I've found is that the manosphere is extremely effective at targeting the legitimate fears and anxieties of boys and young men and then scapegoating women as the root of all their problems.
For boys and young men who feel isolated and like they are failing at "being a man," the manosphere offers a comforting message.
It's not your fault. It's everyone else's.
Throughout the four-episode series, we retroactively learn about the events that led up to the murder.
It paints the portrait of a bullied adolescent whose somewhat absent father, while loving, nonetheless demonstrates the capacity for angry outbursts.
Jamie's lack of physical prowess on the sporting field—a typical signifier of masculinity—is a source of shame for both father and son; instead, Jamie prefers the comfort of his computer.
Unbeknownst to his parents, however, in the privacy of his bedroom, Jamie is drawn into the world of .
And while he dismisses the " stuff" while speaking to a psychologist in episode three, he nonetheless parrots many of their beliefs, like the "80-20 rule," and states that girls aren't attracted to him because he's "ugly."
This "rule," also known at the , suggests that 80% of women are attracted to 20% of men.
Further complicating Jamie's worldview is his relationship with Katie, the young woman he's accused of murdering.
Katie, herself a victim of bullying and sexual exploitation when a topless picture of her is circulated around the school, rejects Jamie when he asks her out.
She then makes a mocking post on his Instagram, suggesting that he is an incel and reinforcing his beliefs that he's an undesirable outcast.
Although we are not privy to the details of his online encounters with the manosphere, we can presume that he found a community that spoke to his fears and insecurities, reassuring him that his deficiencies aren't his fault; he may have lost out on the "genetic lottery" but it's women's "" nature that's Jamie's problem.
But while these online forums undoubtedly played a role in Jamie's radicalization, the reasons why he was drawn to these communities in the first place are equally important.
After all, stumbling into these corners of the web does not make radicalization a foregone conclusion. If it was, I would have been "" long ago. In the manosphere, "red pilling" refers the idea that men's unhappiness and lack of sexual success is the fault of women and feminists.
How do we unravel this complex web to prevent the radicalization of young boys?
Having spent years pondering this problem, I don't have an easy solution. Which is why I was intrigued to see a citing one of the creators of "Adolescence," Jack Thorne, calling for "radical action."
But my hopes of any effective policy intervention were quickly dashed when I read that he hopes the UK will follow under the age of 16.
It's a statement that undermines the dizzyingly complicated factors that went into Jamie's radicalization.
Beyond reservations around how the ban is implemented, my fear is that bans like this just drive teenagers to even darker, more radical online spaces—further out of sight than mainstream platforms like Instagram or TikTok.
From my perspective, banning social media to prevent the proliferation of misogyny among boys and young men is akin to putting a band aid on a bullet wound.
If anything, it is likely to only make the problem worse.
It's often out of isolation and alienation that boys turn to these communities. Paternalistic policies like social media bans only validate those feelings.
Instead, we need a holistic framework to combat the myriad factors that have led to the mainstreaming of the manosphere.
For example, there are that aim to address both the drivers of that violence (like gender inequality) and the reinforcing factors (like alcohol, gambling, and childhood trauma) as an approach to stopping it.
We need to take a similar approach to mitigate the effects of the manosphere.
"Adolescence" has prompted conversations around the online radicalization of young boys through the manosphere and its real-world impact. For many parents, the TV show may be the first time they've had to think seriously about the issue.
While the issues raised around boys and the manosphere are confronting and scary, the final moments of the show demonstrate that radicalization isn't pre-determined.
Although they were raised in the same family, due to a huge variety of influences, Lisa and Jamie's paths diverge drastically. The show prompts us to take the manosphere seriously along with the many factors that make some kids more susceptible to its messages.
There is no "silver bullet" to fix the issues "Adolescence" raises. But it does urge us to take seriously the manosphere and understanding the problem at hand is the first step to finding a solution.
Provided by University of Melbourne