Why “Friends” is Problematic Now (According to Gen Alpha)

When I first heard a 12-year-old call Ross Geller “walking red flag energy,” I did not find it funny. We all knew deep down that Ross was a petulant, possessive, and possibly the worst Friend, and it felt like a humorous, contemporary translation of that knowledge. However, the criticism didn’t end there. Friends is more than just a dated comedy with awful hair for Generation Alpha, the group born after 2013 who are currently navigating middle school with smartphones in hand. It’s a cultural relic that seems essentially “off,” a holdover from a world people don’t particularly like or recognize.

We must examine how Gen Alpha consumes the world in order to comprehend why this particular program, which was once the pinnacle of comfort television, has turned into a target for the youngest critics. They are the first generation to have been born in the twenty-first century. They consume a carefully chosen, automated, and highly socially conscious digital diet. They don’t watch TV the way Gen Z or Millennials did; instead, they watch videos on TikTok, where a 30-second scene is brutally examined by the comment section and stripped of its context.

An Alpha doesn’t envision a comfortable fantasy of adulthood in New York City when they watch Friends. They witness six white individuals living in enormous apartments that they are obviously unable to afford, surrounded by a bubble of affluence that feels more alienating than aspirational. For a generation that was raised in the most diverse schools in history, the lack of diversity—once a cause of contention for critics—is now a deal-breaker. For them, a New York devoid of people of color is not only untrue, but also dubious. To use their lingo, it feels “sus,” a purposeful erasure that undermines the show’s credibility.

And then there’s the comedy. Friends makes extensive use of punchlines that are powerful. For a 10-year-old, the “Fat Monica” running gag, the anxiety over Chandler coming across as gay, and the casual transphobia about Chandler’s mom are more than just “products of their time.” They are cruel and perplexing. The environment in which Gen Alpha is growing up is one of extreme awareness of bullying and mental health issues. Since kindergarten, they have been taught that the worst social evil is to make fun of someone’s identity or physical appearance. A cognitive dissonance occurs when you watch a laugh track bellow with approval at these gags. Why are these individuals giggling? What is causing the “good guys” to act so cruelly?

I was expecting my niece to find his insecurities amusing when I tried to show her the scene where Ross can’t tolerate his son playing with a Barbie, but instead she looked at me with real sympathy and wondered why he was so weak.

This response suggests a more significant gender dynamics gap. Gen Alpha interprets Ross and Rachel’s “will-they-won’t-they” conflict, which drove 10 years of ratings, as a destructive cycle of relationships. They perceive manipulation rather than romance. Through the prism of contemporary discussions on gaslighting and emotional abuse, Ross’s jealousy, his insistence that they were “on a break,” and his sabotage of Rachel’s job possibilities are examined. They want Rachel to obtain a restraining order, not for them to end up together.

Furthermore, to a generation dealing with an epidemic of loneliness, the show’s basic plot—friends spending hours each day hanging out in a coffee shop—feels like science fiction. According to recent data, Gen Alpha has greater difficulties forming in-person connections than any other generation. They interact on Discord and Roblox. The notion of unplanned, unplanned physical closeness seems archaic, almost archaic. It draws attention to what they don’t have, or maybe what they don’t value as much. The digital lobby has taken the position of the “Third Place” (similar to Central Perk).

Another thing to think about is the “Sephora Kid” phenomena. Gen Alpha is more consumer-focused and brand-savvy than Friends characters, who tend to have more relaxed lifestyles and ambiguous occupations. Alphas have an obsession with beauty marks and skincare regimens. The hustle culture that Alphas have absorbed is strangely alienated from Friends’ characteristics. Joey’s ongoing unemployment and Phoebe’s unpredictable professional path are viewed as stressful and unrealistic failures to launch, rather than as endearing bohemian problems.

In the end, Gen Alpha’s rejection of Friends isn’t about “canceling” the past. A fundamental change in values is at issue. Emotional safety, inclusion, and sincerity are important to them. With its glossy exterior, exclusive casting, and sardonic humor, Friends doesn’t pass the “vibe check.” It symbolizes a society that was already disappearing when they were born—a world in which being different was a joke and being cruel was amusing. They are prepared for fresh stories that appear less like a Burbank studio and more like the world they truly inhabit.