Netflix’s New Crime Drama ‘Adolescence’ Has A Glaring Weakness—But It May Actually Be The Show’s Biggest Strength

Adolescence, Netflix’s newest hit crime drama, sure has a lot to say about the world we live in today, from the cultural mindset shift affecting young men to the new ways people communicate and relate with one another, thanks to the internet. It does so by delving into the goings-on surrounding 13-year-old boy Jamie Miller, the prime suspect of his female classmate’s murder, and the waves it creates in his community. And while the storytelling is almost flawless, there is one glaring element that happens to be missing.

The show never shows its victim, Katie, except for in CCTV footage—and almost never discusses who she is outside of being the victim of a heinous crime. Instead, the focus remains on Jamie and his surrounding community.

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

Many viewers have noticed and pointed out this seemingly blatant oversight, made only more obvious in the limited series’ second episode, when DS Misha Frank appears visibly upset during the investigation into Katie’s classmates.

“The perpetrator always gets the front line,” she explains to her colleague when asked about her mood. “‘A man raped a woman.’ We followed Jamie’s brain around this entire case. Katie isn’t important, Jamie is. Everyone will remember Jamie. No one will remember her.”

She has a point, though her colleague doesn’t necessarily agree with her. This is a popular talking point in modern crime discourse, where the perpetrator becomes notorious while their victims often go forgotten—or worse, they’re never actually mentioned at all.

So why would a show that’s so aware of this prevalent issue fall prey to the same exact problem?

On one hand, it does feel like a frustrating oversight. Katie is reduced to her instagram comments and is only survived by her best friend, Jade, who refuses to discuss Katie despite struggling with her anger and grief. We’re given little to no insight into Katie’s personality or social life, forgoing it in favor of focusing on Jamie’s psyche, as well as his relationships with his family and friends. And, as DS Frank fears, Katie becomes unimportant; Jamie is truly the only one you’ll walk away from this show remembering.

Another victim forgotten and another perpetrator made notorious.

But in some ways, this feels purposeful, and it only takes looking at the show as a whole to understand why. The showrunners have a message here—and, unfortunately, it has little to nothing to actually do with Katie.

Think of it this way: If Katie had been given any true space to exist as a character on this show, what would it have looked like? Would we analyze her actions to the same degree that we analyze Jamie’s? If we could hear what she said to him before he stabbed her, or if we could more clearly how she dressed and presented herself, or even if we could get a glimpse of who she was before she was in danger of being murdered, would that change the story?

Here’s the truth: It shouldn’t. In some ways, within the context of the story Adolescence is trying to tell, you could say Katie as a character doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what her beliefs were, or how she acted, or even her relationship to Jamie prior to her death. All we’re given are the key insights into how Jamie viewed her; the rest is unimportant. 

Yes, let me say it again: who Katie is doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, she doesn’t truly factor into the crime, despite suffering the major consequences of it. Because if it wasn’t her, it would have been another woman unwilling to give what a man feels entitled to take from her.

So often, female victims who are given the limelight to have their stories heard are soon dragged through the mud of public opinion. If they come out of it alive, they’re called liars; when they don’t survive, they’re called teases, or bitches, or worse. People completely detached from the situation will take a nugget of information and decide they understand the whole story; they’ll look at a woman’s actions and say, “Well, maybe if she had just done this differently.” 

If she hadn’t spoken her mind freely. If she hadn’t rejected someone so bluntly. If she hadn’t pushed someone away to protect herself. If she had just made herself more empathetic, more demure, more palatable. By extricating Katie from the story otherwise, there is no “more” that she could be. There is little she could have done more perfectly. Instead, she is given the freedom to exist without the court of public opinion deciding whether or not she deserved what she had coming—as if any teenage girl could ever deserve the violence she endured.

We do not get to decide if she deserved to die because, point blank, nothing she could have done would have made her deserve it.

The only true factor here is Jamie and how he justifies a monstrous act—and by understanding that, maybe we can stop the same thing from happening in the future.

So if your biggest gripe about Adolescence is that it doesn’t spend enough time on its victim, you’re right—it doesn’t. Katie is as faceless and nameless as the thousands of other real-life young women who have been murdered by the young men who felt wronged by them. She will be forgotten, while Jamie’s story will be remembered. It’s unfair, and it’s problematic, and unfortunately, it’s realistic.

But in the context of a show that’s acting as a warning siren for the cultural shift that could leave far too many women in Katie’s shoes, that might just be the point.

Adolescence is streaming on Netflix now.