I’m a psychologist and this is why Adolescence shouldn’t be shown in schools

It is right to want to protect children from misogyny – but showing this Netflix drama that has become a nation’s talking point could do more harm than good, says Dr Jessica Taylor

On 1 April, I co-authored a letter to the government, arguing that they should retract their endorsement of Adolescence to be shown in secondary schools across the country.

Keir Starmer’s decision last week to rubber stamp the Netflix drama Adolescence as a classroom resource in secondary schools has been met with applause by some who rightly want action on rising misogyny, radicalisation, and male violence. But like many of my colleagues, I have serious concerns. While Adolescence is undoubtedly a powerful piece of television drama, its power is precisely why, I believe, it should not be rolled out en masse to children as young as 11 in schools across the country.

We are not alone in this concern. Thousands of professionals across education, youth work, trauma psychology, as well as campaigners tackling violence against women and girls are all sounding the alarm – not because we don’t believe misogyny and radicalisation are problems, but because we know that shock tactics don’t prevent harm. In fact, they can often cause more of it.

Let us be clear: the Labour government’s commitment to tackling online misogyny and male violence is both welcome and urgent. But Adolescence is a 15-rated drama for good reason. Graphic scenes of manipulation, abuse, and the murder of a teenage girl are not suitable for a blanket rollout in schools, where children as young as 11 may be expected to watch and process this material.

Even for older teens, the developmental readiness to meaningfully engage with such content varies widely. The risk of retraumatisation for survivors, disruption in classrooms, and misunderstanding among students is high – and, so far, no trauma-informed strategy has been outlined.

In real classrooms, teachers are already seeing how students react when confronted with distressing material. Some laugh. Some mock. Others shut down. These are often defensive reactions, especially in young people. But in a classroom setting, such reactions can isolate or harm those who might see themselves in the storyline – especially those who have lived through similar experiences, as victims or perpetrators. The fallout could include further victimisation, ridicule, or even bullying of peers.

We’ve been here before. Between 2017 and 2019, my campaign work helped lead to the withdrawal of so-called “CSE films” – graphic short films that attempted to deter child sexual exploitation by shocking (female) students into “not taking risks”. The evidence was damning: the films didn’t lead to more disclosures. They didn’t prevent abuse. What they did do was harm vulnerable children, trigger anxiety, and leave teachers unsupported and overwhelmed.

I met teenagers who had cut themselves after being made to watch those films in school. I met teenagers who had fainted, had panic attacks, and zoned out. I spoke to teenagers who had internalised the messages and blamed themselves for being abused and raped. I met teens who had tried to tell their teacher what was happening to them, only to be blamed or minimised as an attention seeker. The use of Adolescence risks repeating these very same mistakes on a much larger scale. And knowing a teenager’s capacity to mock, it also risks reducing the important messages contained within the drama into a big joke.

Keir Starmer has given the green light to let teachers show ‘Adolescence’ in schools (Netflix)

The issue isn’t that Adolescence is fictional. It’s that it was never designed as a teaching tool in the first place. It has no framework, no guidance, no safety protocols, no teacher training, and no evidence base. It hasn’t been trialled in schools. There are no expert-led materials accompanying it. There has been no consultation with teachers, psychologists, or safeguarding professionals. It appears to have been chosen because it sparked a national conversation – not because it has been proven to help children understand or prevent misogyny or radicalisation.

Teachers, meanwhile, are expected to manage this – without training, without specialist knowledge and often without support. When the credits roll, they will be the ones picking up the pieces, managing disclosures, distress, and heated discussions. Whether they are having to cope with students not taking it seriously, or absorb the emotional impact of teaching trauma, we cannot afford to ignore the effect this will have on already overstretched school staff.

Tackling the rise of online misogyny needs a careful approach – it is girls who will be harmed if we get it wrong (PA)

What’s more, the series runs the risk of undermining its own goals. Far from offering a critique of online radicalisation and incel ideology, the show briefly gestures to them through emojis, niche symbols, and vague references. These are not explained, contextualised, or meaningfully challenged. Kids unfamiliar with incel culture might become curious and explore it online. Others may identify with the protagonist, Jamie, whose inner pain is explored in emotional depth – while Katie, the murdered girl, is portrayed as a voiceless bully. Her family is absent. Her pain is invisible. We’ve already seen online discourse justifying or minimising the violence against her. It might sound shocking, but many viewers have come away from the drama believing that Jamie was “driven” to murder, and that Katie had it coming.

This is not education. It’s retraumatisation, confusion, and distortion. And, unless we start to give schools the real resources to understand the boys they teach, the crisis they are in and how this is affecting girls, it is a cheap shortcut that will benefit nobody.

Dr Jessica Taylor is a chartered psychologist and CEO of VictimFocus