Adolescence

When I watched Adolescence, I couldn’t stop thinking about the themes that run through the show—bullying, toxic masculinity, social media radicalization, and the collapse of authority in today’s world. But what unsettled me the most was how difficult it is to pinpoint Jamie’s true motive.

Jamie isn’t just an aggressor—he’s also a boy who’s humiliated, rejected, and stripped of his dignity online. Katie turns him down, but that alone isn’t what breaks him—it’s what follows. She and her friends publicly emasculate him, using coded digital language that adults wouldn’t even recognize as bullying. They flood his Instagram with:

    •    “📉” (chart decreasing) → Suggesting he’s losing status, becoming irrelevant.

    •    “🌽” (corn emoji) → A veiled insult implying he’s pathetic or embarrassing.

    •    “🪑” (chair emoji) → Originally a meme, now used to call someone a loser.

    •    “🤡” (clown emoji) → Mocking him as a joke, a failure.

    •    ”#4473” → A number code in the show that essentially brands him as an incel.

This isn’t just name-calling—it’s a calculated digital assault, designed to socially destroy someone without leaving direct proof of bullying. Gen Alpha doesn’t need slurs anymore; they weaponize the very structure of the internet to erase someone’s worth. And Jamie? He internalizes it. But does this alone explain his descent into violence?

So is Jamie a Budding Psychopath or a Product of His Environment? I struggled with this question, just like the detective in the show. I was bullied too. I know what it’s like to be humiliated, to feel powerless. But I didn’t turn into a psychopath. Maybe that’s because, despite everything, I had a loving family to balance out the pain. Jamie had his mother. He had Eddie, his father, who—though strict and temperamental—never abused him, never stopped loving him. So what went wrong?

Psychologically, Jamie displays classic traits of conduct disorder and early psychopathy:

    •    Lack of empathy – He doesn’t react to the suffering of others.

    •    Emotional detachment – Even in high-stress situations, his expressions remain eerily controlled.

    •    Manipulative tendencies – He learns to adapt, charm, and deceive when needed.

    •    Entitlement and resentment – His frustration at rejection doesn’t lead to self-reflection but rather a belief that he must regain control.

But Adolescence refuses to give us an easy answer. Maybe Jamie was always inclined toward violence, and the bullying only accelerated what was already there. Maybe he was looking for an excuse. Or maybe he’s what happens when a system allows boys like him to slip through the cracks until it’s too late.

A key theme in Adolescence is the failure of authority figures—parents, teachers, even psychologists—to intervene before things spiral out of control. One of the most striking moments is when the psychologist in Episode 3 is visibly afraid of Jamie. This isn’t just a child with anger issues—this is a boy who understands the power he holds over others and enjoys wielding it.

There’s also a generational shift at play. In Episode 2, we see students openly mocking and disrespecting their teacher without consequence. It’s not just about kids lacking fear—it’s about the absence of structure, discipline, and moral guidance. When you combine this with unregulated access to toxic online figures, the result is kids shaping their worldviews based on whoever speaks the loudest.

And this is where the show forces us to confront something deeply uncomfortable. Jamie’s radicalization isn’t just a personal failure—it’s a collective one.

Beyond its themes, Adolescence is a technical masterpiece. Each episode is filmed in one continuous shot, meaning there are no visible cuts—just an unrelenting, immersive experience that traps you in the characters’ world. The sheer amount of planning and execution that must have gone into this is mind-blowing.

Owen Cooper (Jamie) is phenomenal. His ability to shift between vulnerability and cold detachment is chilling, and watching his transformation feels disturbingly real. Stephen Graham (Jamie’s father, Eddie) delivers a gut-wrenching performance, portraying a man who knows he failed his son but doesn’t know how to fix it. The psychologist in Episode 3 is also haunting—seeing an adult woman visibly shaken by a 13-year-old boy speaks volumes about how dangerous Jamie has become.

Adolescence isn’t just about one boy’s descent into violence—it’s about what happens when we ignore the warning signs. It’s about how social media radicalizes young men, how modern bullying has evolved into something almost undetectable, and how the collapse of authority leaves kids to raise themselves in digital echo chambers.

Was Jamie always destined for this path? Or was he a product of his environment? That’s the disturbing question the show leaves us with.

One thing is certain—Adolescence is not an easy watch. But maybe that’s exactly why it needs to be seen.

Meredith Grey and Me

I just saw a Grey’s Anatomy promo on Instagram, and the caption read, Mother’s back. The image showed Meredith Grey standing, clothed in sombre colours, with a look on her face that seemed to say, I’m here. I’ve achieved it all, and there’s still more to come.

A few minutes ago, my niece—my cousin sister’s daughter—sent me a clip from the Grey’s Anatomy Season 2 finale, where Izzie loses Denny. She was in shock, exclaiming, Oh my God, you actually saw this as it aired for the first time on television! And it’s true. That must have been sometime in 2007. And here we are, in 2025, and Grey’s Anatomy is still running. It’s been thirty years of her life traipsing along mine.

I’ve watched Meredith Grey evolve—sometimes in dramatic leaps, sometimes in that slow, existential, placid kind of way. And I’ve always equated myself with her because I’ve had people like Cristina and Derek in my life. And then there’s Alex, George, and Izzie. They’ve come and gone. And she’s the last one standing.

Meredith Grey is a survivor. She is dark and twisty, hardened by life’s relentless blows, yet fiercely resilient. She starts out as the vulnerable girl who pleads, Pick me, choose me, love me, but over time, she transforms into a woman who declares, I want you in my life if you want to be in my life. But if I have to choose, I’m going to pick me, I pick my kids, and I pick what’s best for us, and I’m not going to beg you to love me. That evolution is hard-earned, built through heartbreak, loss, and self-discovery.

She has endured profound grief—the loss of her mother, her sister Lexie, her best friend George, and, most devastatingly, Derek. Yet, she has never let grief consume her. She moves forward, not because it’s easy, but because she must. She finds ways to turn her pain into purpose, becoming a leader, a mother, and a legend in her field.

Meredith is also someone who stands by what she believes in, even when the world is against her. She challenges authority, fights for justice, and protects those she loves, even if it comes at great personal cost. She is messy, flawed, and sometimes infuriatingly stubborn, but she is also brilliant, compassionate, and endlessly strong.

Looking at Meredith, I see pieces of myself. Like her, I have endured loss—people I loved deeply are no longer around. And yet, like her, I have continued to stand. I have faced rejection, heartbreak, and opposition, but I have also held my ground, believing in what is right and refusing to let the world define me. Meredith is about 48 years old and I am 49 as I write this. Our world views match: I still remember her advert on the bulletin board for a room mate. She had written “no pets” but had also said “absolutely no Bush supporters”!

Meredith has Cristina—the person who gets her, the one who tells her the truth no matter what. I’ve had a person like that too, the kind who shapes you and leaves an imprint on your soul. But just as Meredith had to let people go—whether through distance, death, or circumstance—I, too, have watched relationships fade. And yet, I remain, learning, evolving, growing.

Like Meredith, I have always been drawn to the dark and twisty parts of life, the raw, unfiltered truths that others might shy away from. I have seen the cost of being the bright and shiny one, and I know now that it is the dark and twisty ones who survive. They are the ones who understand the weight of loss, the reality of struggle, and the necessity of perseverance.

When I saw this new image of Meredith, I felt something—a kind of liberation, a kind of peace, if you could call it that. Of course, it’s dramatic. Of course, it’s meant for publicity. But looking at her made me feel like she’s arrived. And so have I.

I also feel that I stopped watching the series after she left in Season 19. I haven’t watched it since. But looking at this picture, I think—maybe I should go back and watch all the episodes where she’s still there. Because Meredith Grey’s story is not just a television script; in many ways, it is mine too.

The Cycle of Extremism

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend that left me thinking deeply about the state of the world. I had shared a disturbing video of two men openly advocating for the subjugation of women, even going so far as to say that women who refuse to conform should be burnt and killed. This was not some obscure, hidden conversation—it was being circulated on social media for anyone to see. Understandably, my friend, along with one of my nieces, was horrified. My niece reacted by saying, “This is a terrible country; we need to leave it.”

But I disagreed. Not because I don’t see the horrors around me, but because I have come to a stark realisation: leaving a country does not change the fundamental issues of humanity.

The Global Right-Wing Surge

In 2013, when the rise of right-wing ideology became evident in my own country, (the Supreme Court had criminalised gay sex) I understood that, as a gay man, I would never enjoy the rights and privileges that straight people take for granted. I contemplated leaving, thinking perhaps another country would offer a more progressive and accepting life.

But then 2014 happened. Then in 2016, Donald Trump’s rise in America signalled the same shift towards conservatism that I had seen at home. Russia had Vladimir Putin, who allegedly sent LGBTQ+ individuals to detention camps for “correction.” Horror stories from those camps surfaced, painting a grim picture of the global state of human rights.

In 2019, J.K. Rowling, a writer I had long admired, shattered my trust when she dismissed the trans movement with her comments about sex being real. And when Trump was re-elected, it became clear that the right-wing resurgence was not a fluke—it was a reflection of the people’s will. The agenda of moral policing, religious revivalism, and historical revisionism was not being imposed from the top down; it was being demanded by the public itself.

It’s Not Just Governments—It’s the People Who Elect Them

The problem isn’t just the leaders in power; it’s the people who vote for them. If there weren’t millions who shared their views, these leaders wouldn’t exist in the first place. The unfortunate reality is that large sections of society believe in patriarchy, misogyny, homophobia, and the rigid moral codes dictated by scripture. They don’t just tolerate these ideas—they actively champion them.

This is why changing countries does nothing to change the underlying problem. Extremist views exist everywhere, manifesting in different forms depending on the cultural and political landscape. The rise of the right in one place will eventually be mirrored by a rise in another.

The Death of Nuanced Thinking

What troubles me most is the lack of nuanced thinking in today’s world. Everything is reduced to binaries: right or wrong, good or evil, us versus them. The idea that one might be wrong, or that another perspective might hold some validity, is almost extinct. Instead, people seek validation for their existing beliefs, reinforcing echo chambers that fuel further division.

Social media only exacerbates this problem. It has become a tool not for discussion, but for ideological warfare. People don’t debate to understand; they argue to win. The absence of self-reflection, of walking in another’s shoes, has led to a society where dehumanisation is normalised.

The Cycle of Extremism

Looking back at history, this cycle is nothing new. There were always people who opposed war, but wars happened anyway. Humanity has never been ruled by collective goodwill—it has always been driven by power, self-interest, and ideological battles.

Right now, we are witnessing a global right-wing surge. But this, too, will change. Eventually, people will grow tired of oppression, and the left will rise again. And then, as history has shown us, the cycle will repeat itself. The tragedy is that in the midst of these power shifts, real people suffer. Some are marginalised, some lose their rights, and some even lose their lives.

Finding Strength in Allies

But amidst all this turmoil, there is one silver lining: times like these reveal who our true allies are. When society is divided, we learn who stands with us and who stands against us. We build our own families—not through blood, but through shared beliefs and values. We find the people who will fight alongside us, and we learn who to keep at a distance.

That, perhaps, is the only positive thing about these dark times.

So no, changing countries will not solve the problem. The issue is not geographical—it is deeply rooted in human nature. The only real way forward is to continue resisting, to keep advocating for a better world, and to never stop fighting for justice. Because while the cycle may continue, so will the fight for what is “right”.