Every generation has its “kids these days” moment.

Since the beginning of time, adults have looked at the next generation and wondered what went wrong, convinced that something fundamental has shifted for the worse.

Most of the time, that instinct says more about aging than it does about reality.

This time, it doesn’t.

What happened on the streets of East Harlem this week shook every New Yorker who saw — or even heard about — the attack.

A disturbing video shows a 14-year-old boy brutally assaulting a 15-year-old girl after she refused to give him her phone number.

It unfolded in broad daylight, just after school, on a public street.

The boy blocked her path, threatened her, then grabbed her from behind, slammed her to the ground, and stomped on her head.

She was hospitalized with a concussion.

He was arrested and charged with assault.

That alone would be enough to horrify any parent.

But the violence itself isn’t the only story here — the reaction to it is just as telling.

Other kids stood there and watched.

Some pulled out their phones, not to call for help, but to record what was happening.

No one intervened, and no one stepped forward.

This wasn’t just one violent teenager snapping.

It was a snapshot of a culture that is failing to shape its young people in even the most basic ways.

There’s plenty of blame to go around for what happened on that sidewalk, but the most uncomfortable place to start is also the most obvious: pornography.

For years, we have treated the explosion of violent, degrading sexual content online as if it were a private matter — something adults could consume without consequence.

But that assumption has always been detached from reality.

Boys are encountering pornography earlier and earlier, often before they have any real understanding of relationships, boundaries or respect.

What they are absorbing is not intimacy, but a steady diet of domination, humiliation and control.

When that becomes the baseline, rejection doesn’t register as a limit to respect; it registers as a challenge.

The idea that a girl can simply say no is replaced by something darker.

But pornography doesn’t simply reach kids on its own: It reaches them because adults have made it effortless.

Parents hand over smartphones to children barely out of elementary school and walk away.

They don’t monitor what’s being watched, don’t set meaningful boundaries, and, too often, don’t engage at all with the content that shapes their children’s worldview.

Instead, they allow algorithms, peers and mass media to do that work for them.

The result is a generation being formed by whatever holds their attention longest — and that increasingly means the most extreme, the most provocative and the most dehumanizing material available.

You can see the downstream effects not just in the boy who carried out the attack, but in the kids who chose to film it instead of stopping it.

That instinct didn’t emerge in a vacuum.

It has been cultivated by a culture that prizes virality over responsibility and attention over action, where the first response to something shocking is not to help, but to capture.

They weren’t thinking about intervening. They were thinking about going viral.

That is a moral failure, but it is not one that belongs solely to them.

For years, parents have deluded themselves into believing that “kids these days” are uniquely flawed — more entitled, more distracted, less resilient than the generations that came before them.

It is an easy narrative because it shifts responsibility away from adults.

But kids do not raise themselves.

If a generation is growing up without a moral compass, it is because the adults responsible for giving them one haven’t provided it.

If they are learning about relationships from pornography, about conflict from viral videos, and about status from social media, it is because no one has consistently offered them a better framework.

What happened in East Harlem is not just a senseless crime.

It is a warning about what happens when that vacuum of influence goes unfilled.

Bethany Mandel writes and podcasts at The Mom Wars.