I first read Lord of the Flies not as a teenager in school, like most, but as a fully-grown adult. And I was horrified.
Not because I am sheltered or unaccustomed to the ways of the world, but because William Golding's allegorical tale is such a visceral account of toxic masculinity that it disturbed me to my core – to the point I had to take several breaks before I could finish it.
(In fact, the only other piece of fiction that has ever had this sort of impact on me is American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. Take from that what you will.)
For, despite Lord of the Flies being set during the Second World War and published in the 1950s, it is still eerily relevant today – so much so that the BBC has turned the cautionary “fable” (as Golding himself put it) into a new four-part series. And who better to adapt the book than Adolescence writer, Jack Thorne?
As a vocal male ally to women watching Netflix’s Adolescence reinforced the fact we urgently need more male allies.
The story, for those unfamiliar, follows a group of British schoolboys who are left stranded on a deserted island in the Pacific after their plane crashes. Not only are there no adult survivors from the wreckage, leaving the boys alone to fend for themselves, there is a notable absence of women and girls throughout.
We start off with democratically-nominated chief, Ralph – a smart, well-mannered boy who, although he isn't perfect, certainly seeks to be fair and do right by others. Combined with the astuteness of his pal Piggy, they act as guardians for the boys and “littluns”, setting out a plan of action to be rescued.
Their authority is quickly brought into question by another boy named Jack, however, who, along with his choir group, swiftly assumes the role of hunter.
A power struggle then ensues between Jack and Ralph, with the former prioritising food-gathering over keeping the fire alight to provide a smoke signal to passing ships.
Slowly but surely, Jack and his pack edge closer and closer towards evil, represented by the sadistic presence of Roger, who’s always been there, but steadily becomes more pronounced as time progresses. Without any proper guidance and repercussions for their actions, the boys’ brutality and mob mentality lead to fatal consequences.
Given that the author, Golding, was both a schoolteacher and a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, the original story is very much an allegory for the real bloodshed of the war – of the corruption of innocence and the stolen youth of those on and off the battlefield.
But the reason the story still rings true to modern audiences – and, I would argue, hits a nerve with women readers/viewers especially – is the harmful propaganda at play, and the devastating impact it has.
Don't get me wrong, Lord of the Flies isn't about violence against women and girls (though there are references to domestic abuse), but we know all too well what happens when toxic masculinity festers and antiquated views of how boys and men “should” be are actively encouraged (hello, online forums and Andrew Tate).
In the story, it's this “stiff upper lip” male bravado and the desire to be “manly” like their fathers (who are all fighting in the actual war) that leads them to this point. Any sign of “weakness” is quickly stamped out, as they pivot towards their baser instincts.
Simon’s character, who is often deemed “sensitive” and “batty”, is all the more powerful for this reason. He represents innocence and purity, and is the moral compass of the group. In a moment with the Lord of the Flies (a rotting pig’s head on a spear), he realises that it is his duty to show the group the right path – to urge them to walk towards the light and away from darkness.
He may become a martyr-like figure, as the boys turn on him, but, just as Jesus died on the cross (this symbolism is used in both the book and series), Simon's demise marks a turning point, and demonstrates how, even though speaking up for what is right is immensely difficult, it is important to do so anyway.
Without integrity and a desire to do better, there would be no positive change in the world. We may all harbour the potential for evil, but it is when it goes unchecked that is the issue. Without rules and a sense of right and wrong, we'd live in chaos.
What Lord of the Flies – both the TV show and the book – does so well, then, is illustrate how insidious these ideas are. Without the right kind of influence and without people calling these toxic behaviours out, harmful ideologies take root.
That is why it was such an important story in the 1950s – and why it is even more vital in 2026.
Lord of the Flies airs on BBC One on Sundays at 9pm and is available to stream on iPlayer now.
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