Of all the nonsense that we go through as teenagers, and of all the things that strangely hang on into adulthood, the concept of being cool is the most pervasive, and one of the most destructive. It’s hard to define what ‘cool’ is. It’s easier to see what it is not. And this comment on ‘cool’ will depend on my definition, as many will say that undeniably good things are cool, and that it is not the word or the concept’s fault if people take it the wrong way. But herein lies the problem. Cool can be defined as anything good – from stylish to popular, from confident to successful. Cool is what you think it is. And so in a closed society, cool is simply what the most powerful people in the room believe it to be. The only way to break this hold is to disagree and risk being hurt by the powerful ones who have a vested interest in their definition being upheld.

My short-hand for cool, in a school setting, is to take everything a parent would want a child to be and provide the reverse. Hardworking, kind to the vulnerable, thoughtful, independent, individual, respectful of others, respectful of both the law and the rules – cool is the antithesis of this. No parent should hope their child is cool. They will be more likely to be bailing their offspring out of difficult situations (too much drink, drugs and sex), more likely to be called in to the Head’s office, more likely to watch their kids do badly in their academic studies. We may hope our children are popular, but it seems to me that this is a very high price to pay.

However cool or uncool you are now or ever were, in the end we all hope we find people who will care about us because of who we are – who we really are – instead of having to put on an act to seem on top of things, confident and poised at all times. No one can sustain this, and the effort of doing so can be almost too much to bear.

The lesson coolness at school teaches is that being what others want of you is more important than being yourself and being seen as strong and confident is more important than showing your weaknesses. At a time when young people are forming their personalities, learning strategies which will keep them well and safe throughout their lives, they are trying to squash themselves into the tiny box that the current version of cool has allowed them. Forget loving ‘70s glam rock, enjoying playing the violin, knitting characters from Doctor Who or getting into birdwatching. If it isn’t football, current pop and Love Island (or substitute any sport, music or TV programme here) then it isn’t acceptable. And this is the point. It isn’t that there is anything wrong with any of the things that are cool; they are just arbitrary choices from the myriads of options available. There is nothing intrinsically good or bad about cool or uncool things. The problem is that someone else has chosen it for you. It isn’t what you would want, or may not be if you gave yourself the time and freedom to choose.

I won’t even focus too much on how trying to be cool can give people serious issues with body shape, warp their sense of self to a damaging degree, and give power to people unfitted to deal with it while leaving others alone with rock-bottom self-esteem. I won’t even focus on the cruelty, bullying and nastiness it provokes in the cool and the miserable exclusion it provokes in those labelled uncool. I am not even going to talk about the terrible fate of those who try to be cool but can never be, rejecting people who could be true friends to chase after a group of people who will never accept them. But what I will say is that it is another facet of the terrible double edged sword of belonging. We will do almost anything to belong, including making sure that the others outside the circle suffer. Racism, sexism, xenophobia are all part of the same disease. It is the attitude that as long as we have what we want, what we need, we don’t care if others don’t have it. We can be cruel to the spotty boy trying to practise his French horn for the school play because we crave to be part of the inner circle and fear the cruelty of others. We can be cruel to refugees in a boat off our coast because we fear being the outsider, fear that what we have will be taken from us and long to belong with the powerful, long to be one of them.

The sooner we can teach children that to be yourself (with all the odd quirks, hobbies and interests) is the only way to be happy, the sooner we can eradicate the awful disease of coolness and foster love of diversity, love of difference, and acceptance of others. That’s how you build good human beings.

Those who hang on to their coolness once they have left school are like the 40 year old at the club, drinking too much and spending all their money on nights out. Understandable behaviour for the young, but something we ought to grow out of. It would be even better if we had not been enticed by the idea of cool in the first place. Try being you. As someone once said, everyone else is taken.