Around the age of 13 or 14, both boys started holing up in their bedrooms. Although they were avidly gaming and chatting with their friends online, real-world socialising seemed to fade away. Though she tried not to make an issue of it, their withdrawal bothered her: a healthy teenage life, she feels, should involve at least a bit of adventurous pushing of boundaries.
One in three younger Britons are socialising less, according to the struggling nightlife giant Rekom, which last month announced its intention to call in administrators.
More broadly, they seem less ready to sow wild oats than previous waves of teenagers. Long before lockdowns curbed their liberty, risk-taking behaviour expressed in teenage pregnancy and youth offending was steadily declining in both the US and the UK, as, more surprisingly, was the number of young people holding either a part-time job or a driving licence β both once regarded as keys to freedom.
Though teenage working hours have rebounded in Britain post-lockdown, possibly reflecting straitened finances. Though the jury remains out on her theory that social media fuels teenage anxiety and depression, this idea is increasingly influential in British conservative circles, with Rishi Sunak reportedly considering curbs on unders using social media platforms. In many ways, young people are merely doing what they have been endlessly nagged to do: be sensible, stay out of trouble, concentrate on their homework.
Or are the middle-aged simply misunderstanding, in time-honoured fashion, the complicated business of being young? The bass is thumping, lasers strobing, and you can almost feel the sweat dripping from the ceiling of this former warehouse hidden away behind Wapping docks. Almost, but not quite. To be young and staying in on the weekend would once have spelled social death.
