The 'Adolescence' paradox: How many lambs to the slaughter?

Unless you’ve been under a rock, you’ve heard of “Adolescence,” the No. 1 streaming show around the world. Like some other 90 million people, I binged it.

It was bloody brilliant. The four-part drama about a teenage boy radicalized by Andrew Tate-style content is so compelling that the UK prime minister discussed it in Parliament.

One of the brilliances of “Adolescence” is that you’re left with more questions than answers. This one hit me:

In a show about a 13-year-old boy being radicalized by toxic content, we cast a 15-year-old boy to play his part. This real teenager performed scenes requiring sexually explicit language, misogynistic rhetoric and acting out the stabbing of another student. He adopted a hyper-masculine persona beyond his years and inhabited a character consumed by violent ideology.

Does anyone see the irony?

To warn society about children accessing Andrew Tate’s dangerous content, we placed an actual child directly in his toxic path. Not only that, but in front of cameras, performing scenes channeling dangerous ideologies. The entire premise of “Adolescence” is that young minds are vulnerable to harmful influences, yet we’ve asked a young mind to immerse himself in them. Yes, he’s an actor. But so what?

Yalda Uhls, former film executive and child development researcher, writes: “When we put children in adult situations and adult worlds, we’re asking them to emotionally handle things that developmentally they’re not ready for.”

How does a child process the complex horrors Owen Cooper acted out? Or the fame that comes with starring in the world’s No. 1 series?

We’ve seen this story play out before with devastating consequences. Michael Jackson being the most obvious example. A boy catapulted to fame who became a man accused of sickening sexual violence.

Britney Spears famously shaved her head and attacked a car with an umbrella during a public breakdown, later testifying: “I’ve lied and told the whole world I’m OK and I’m happy ... I’m not happy. I can’t sleep. I’m depressed. I cry every day.”

Drew Barrymore was in rehab at 13, later reflecting: “I was a sad, confused, lonely little kid. I was basically alone. My parents weren’t there. I was basically raised by my make-up and hair people.”

Liam Payne, former One Direction star who entered the spotlight at 16, recently died after falling from a hotel balcony, following years of mental illness.

Lindsay Lohan, Macaulay Culkin, Amanda Bynes, River Phoenix ...

Need I go on?

These aren’t just the complaints of spoiled celebrities. There’s substantial psychological research backing up what these former child stars have experienced. Donna Rockwell, clinical psychologist who studies fame, explains: “Child stars often experience a fundamental break in natural child development. Fame establishes an identity for them that isn’t based on a natural, organic development but something external and artificial.”

I know the counterarguments. The young actor in “Adolescence” has protections. There are child psychologists on set. His parents are present during filming. There’s carefully controlled exposure to disturbing content. But safeguards fail. Protocols get compromised. Good intentions aren’t always enough.

What I’m asking is a broader question, and one I don’t have the answer to: Is it ever OK to put a child in the limelight? Are they ever ready for it, no matter how much cotton wool we wrap them in? No matter how good the performance, no matter how important the story, should we put children on stage? And who decides when it’s OK?

This is not a case against “Adolescence.” I think it’s an incredible piece of art. I recommend everyone watch it, and I’d even go as far as to say watch it with your teenage children and talk about its importance. The series brilliantly captures the dangers of online radicalization and deserves every bit of acclaim it’s received.

What I’m wrestling with is the paradox that struck. In trying to highlight the dangers young people face online, we’ve potentially created another kind of danger for another young performer.

Next week, I’ll be writing about “Adolescence” through another lens: the devices we carry in our back pockets and what endless access to information means. What responsibility do parents, schools, tech companies and society bear in protecting young minds from toxic content?

For now, I’m left with the “Adolescence” paradox. How many lambs are we willing to slaughter for entertainment? I don’t have a neat answer, but I think it’s a question worth asking.

See you next week.