Sex education is not the problem—silence is
A parent’s guide for today’s IndiaOn 18 January 2026, reports in sections of the media described a deeply disturbing incident from Bhajanpura in northeast Delhi, where a six-year-old child was allegedly sexually assaulted by three boys aged between ten and thirteen. As the story circulated, it quickly triggered a familiar public reaction—anxiety about adolescent behaviour and anguished questions about where our society is heading.That day, my phone rang repeatedly.“Doctor, what is happening to children these days?” one parent asked.
“Is Social Media to be blamed? Are we giving them sex-education too early?” another wondered.A third asked quietly, “Have we failed somewhere?”As a psychiatrist working closely with children and adolescents, I find these questions understandable—but incomplete. Incidents like these do not mean that children are becoming inherently violent or immoral. They point instead to a dangerous gap between early exposure and the absence of guidance.Children today are not growing up without information about sex. They are growing up with too much of it, arriving too early, without interpretation or context. When parents hesitate or remain silent, children learn instead from pornography, social media, peer conversations, and popular culture—none of which teach consent, empathy, or consequence.In my clinic, I often hear parents say, “Doctor, we assumed the school would tell them,” or “We thought talking would make things worse.” What actually makes things worse is leaving children alone with questions they are already asking, which are then answered by the least reliable sources-peers and social media.
Adolescence: Curiosity without direction
Indian families have traditionally relied on unspoken boundaries. Many parents tell me, sometimes defensively, “We never had these conversations and we turned out fine.” That may have been true in a different time. It is no longer true in an age where a smartphone can answer questions that the parents are avoiding.Adolescence is marked by heightened curiosity, emotional intensity, and sensitivity to peer approval. At the same time, the brain systems responsible for impulse control and long-term judgment are still developing. This imbalance is a normal part of growth, not a sign of bad character.Without guidance, curiosity often fills itself in dangerous ways. Adolescents may misread persistence as romance, feel entitled to attention, or believe that rejection is something to be challenged rather than respected. The movies that we have grown up watching often cement these beliefs. I have met teenagers genuinely confused about why their behaviour frightened someone else. No one had explained the difference between interest and intrusion.Parents frequently ask me, “Why don’t they understand limits?” My answer is usually simple: limits that are never explained cannot be understood.
The cost of delayed conversations
Many parents wait for a moment that feels “appropriate” to start talking. In reality, that moment often passes unnoticed.I have seen eleven-year-olds distressed by normal bodily changes because no adult had explained what was happening to them. I have met adolescents who believed myths picked up from friends or online content because no one had corrected them. By the time parents realise, their child is already exposed, they feel it is “too late” to intervene.It is rarely too late. But it is often much later than parents realise.
Consent, rejection, and the digital world
By early adolescence, conversations need to become clearer and more direct. This is often the stage where parents feel the most uncomfortable—and therefore withdraw the most.A father once asked me, “Doctor, how do I explain consent to my son without encouraging him?” A mother asked, “If I talk about rejection, won’t it hurt her confidence?” These are real fears. But avoiding these topics does not protect children; it leaves them unprepared.One fourteen-year-old boy I met insisted he was “only expressing love” by repeatedly messaging a classmate who had asked him to stop. His parents were shocked when the school intervened. No one had ever explained to him that affection without permission can become intimidation. Their favourite Bollywood hero did the same and ultimately won the affection of the girl! Ends justified the means, whereas in the real world this would be seen as harassment.The digital world complicates this further. Images are shared impulsively, messages forwarded without thought, and boundaries crossed without physical presence. Many adolescents do not understand that online actions carry emotional and legal consequences. Parents often ask me, “But it was just on the phone—how serious can it be?” Serious enough to follow a child into adulthood and form a disturbing pattern.
Where LGBTQ conversations fit in
This is often the point in the conversation where parents lower their voices.“Doctor, my son says he is confused about his feelings—is this just a phase?”“My daughter says she doesn’t feel like other girls—should I stop her from thinking like this?”“If we talk about these things, won’t we put ideas into their head?”These questions are not signs of bad parenting. They are signs of parents trying to navigate unfamiliar territory without a map.Children and adolescents may question attraction, identity, or gender expectations at different points. For some, these feelings are transient; for others, they persist. Parents do not need to rush to label, diagnose, or panic. What helps most is a calm, non-reactive response that keeps communication open.I often tell parents that silence is far more confusing than acknowledgement. When children feel they cannot ask questions at home, they search for answers elsewhere. Those answers are rarely kind or accurate.Importantly, discussions about consent, boundaries, safety, and respect apply regardless of sexual orientation or identity. Parents sometimes ask me, “Is this even relevant to us?” My answer is always yes—because dignity and responsibility are universal values.
Why avoidance backfires
In clinical practice, adolescents who cross sexual boundaries often describe similar backgrounds. There were no conversations at home. Relationships were understood through films and online content. Persistence was equated with masculinity. Rejection was experienced as humiliation rather than something to be accepted.Indian culture places great emphasis on sanskar—respect, restraint, responsibility. These values are not absorbed automatically anymore. They need explanation, repetition, and context.Avoiding these conversations in the name of culture does not preserve values. It leaves them untransmitted.
What parents often ask—and what I tell them
Parents frequently ask me if talking about sex will make children curious too early, rebellious, or reckless. I usually respond with another question: “Do you think they are not curious already?”Children will learn about sex. The real choice parents have is whether that learning happens through silence and secrecy, or through guidance grounded in empathy, boundaries, and accountability.
A closing thought
The Bhajanpura incident shocked us because it involved children harming a child. That discomfort should push us toward reflection, not denial.Sex education does not take innocence away. Silence takes protection away.In today’s India, where exposure begins early and guidance often comes late, parents must reclaim their role—not as lecturers, but as listeners, explainers, and steady guides.The question is not whether children will learn.It is whether they will learn responsibly, from those who care the most.
