Are spineless parents to blame for the new generation of over-indulged and ill-mannered children? Fionola Meredith reports.

Bart Simpson has a lot to answer for. The wise-cracking bad boy hero of The Simpsons holds children spellbound with his insouciant, devil-may-care attitude to authority. For years, Bart's insurrectionary claim to be an "underachiever and proud of it" has appalled parents and delighted youngsters in equal measure. But is Bart's back-chat really a dreadful influence on our wholesome little darlings, as members of the Christian right in America have claimed? Or do the spiky-haired subversive's antics merely reflect - rather than encourage - the widespread deterioration of children's behavioural standards?

Christie Mellor, author of the recently published We Were Here First, Kid! A Practical Guide to Happy Parenting, blames "spineless" parents for the stroppy, spoilt behaviour of their children. She says, "I seem to be entirely surrounded by a generation of parents whose lives revolve around their children, much to their, and the rest of the world's, detriment. Modern parents have turned their children into full-time projects. They cosset and coddle, they supervise every waking moment and shield their little darlings from the slightest unpleasantness."

These lily-livered mums and dads have produced whole broods of self-centred, demanding children who will later inflict their overweening arrogance on society at large. Mellor asks, "Does it really matter how smart [ your child] is, if he's a mean little horror who never learned any manners? And I'm not talking about knowing where to put the aspic fork, I'm talking about real manners: true etiquette, which is about treating other people kindly, being a good listener, and generally behaving like a delightful person who knows how to help mum and dad around the house."

And it's not as if being self-indulgent makes kids happy. As Mellor points out, "The really sad thing is that children are not thriving with all this attention. Instead, with so much free time and money at their disposal, they are mutating into little monsters - and taking over the world. As a parent of two, I look at this rampant decay in parenting and attendant brat problem much like global warming; if we don't start working on this crisis now, it will be completely out of our control in 10 years' time."

Bewailing a lack of manners in our children is a terribly unfashionable thing to do. We've become so proficient in the language of liberal child-centredness that calls for "discipline" and "control" seem harsh and punitive, a throwback to repressive Victorian attitudes.

John Sharry, a psychotherapist at the Mater hospital, Dublin, and author of Parent Power: Bringing Up Responsible Children and Adults, agrees manners are often regarded as something rather "quaint". "Children have a lot more access to speak their mind now," he says. "They're much more assertive then they were a generation ago - and that's a positive thing. But while wanting to give children a voice, it's also vital to provide them with firm, clear boundaries too. It's all about balance."

Teachers often bear witness to declining standards in pupils' behaviour. Yvonne McCaughan (56) is a primary-school teacher based in Co Down. Looking back over 20 years of teaching experience, she's convinced that children's manners are poorer than ever.

"I believe that manners are 'caught', rather than taught. They're caught by daily, one-to-one interaction with adults who constantly demonstrate and reinforce good, polite behaviour. It's hard work, and you have to be quite determined to do it. But because both parents are often out at work all day, there isn't the same opportunity nowadays to nurture good manners. And a busy childminder caring for a number of young children may not have the time either."

But why are manners so important? In demanding better manners, aren't we asking our children to follow a behavioural code that is at best formulaic, at worst blatantly insincere? McCaughan says: "If we send our children out into the world without manners, we're not doing them any favours at all. Children who have learned good manners are at an advantage - they are attractive, courteous members of society who show that they're sensitive to the feelings of others."

Sociologist Frank Furedi makes a similar point, but argues that "it's not people's manners that are significant but the fact that we need to have certain informal, unspoken rules about each other's behaviour. There's a very self-obsessed element [ in society] where we feel 'I make my own rules'."

The writer Penny Palmano, author of Yes, Please. Thanks!, a cri de coeur for better manners in children, says: "The fact that people now go out of their way to say how well a child behaves shows just how far our expectations have fallen."

Of course, there are some situations where children are more likely to act up than others. The long tedium of a church service can turn a normally well-behaved child into a disgruntled malcontent, ripe for anarchic mischief.

Carmel O'Donovan of the Church of our Lady in Blessington, Co Wicklow, was instrumental in setting up a popular monthly children's Mass, which has made a definite improvement in the behaviour of young worshippers. With parish priest Fr Tim Murphy, she's convinced that a policy of cheerful inclusivity, rather than an insistence on reverent silence and obedience, is the way forward for kids in church. And for smaller, noisier church-goers, there's always the sound-proofed "crying room", where parents and children can listen to the Mass without disturbing the rest of the congregation.

Dining in a restaurant can often be a trigger for irritating, attention-seeking behaviour. Emboldened by sugar-laden fizzy drinks and bored by the wait between courses, even the most polite child can suddenly morph into a whining, petulant little monster. But some restaurants do their best to make families with children feel welcome. The trendy Rain City Bar and Grill in south Belfast, owned by celebrity chef Paul Rankin, is a popular spot for parents who can't face the thought of hunching miserably with their kids on the cold plastic seats of a fast-food restaurant. Here, children have their own menu of healthy, unprocessed meals, and are kept occupied with colouring sheets and crayons.

Kathy Bennett, general manager of the restaurant, says that the humorous warning on the children's menu works well as a pleasant reminder for parents to keep their kids under control: "Little girls and boys who leave their seats will be roasted in our oven and served for lunch tomorrow. Yummy!" But one customer believes that some parents are taking advantage of Rain City's open-door policy on children. Mary Hart (30) is the mother of four children, and she often dines at the restaurant with her family.

"Because it's known as a child-friendly restaurant, some parents think they can let their kids behave any way they like. It's really inconsiderate to other diners who are doing their best to keep their own children behaving in a civilised fashion. I don't want to feel I've gone to the local creche for my lunch."

Perhaps the young miscreants could do with a crash course in table etiquette. And that's just what the Lanesborough Hotel in London offers. The hotel's head butler, Sean Davoren, takes children through the minefield of a fully-set table, teaching them which knife and fork to use, how to behave at the table, and even the proper way to eat peas. The two-hour course includes a full tea of cakes and sandwiches, supervised by Davoren, so that the children can start putting their embryonic table manners into practice.

But no matter how decorously the peas are eaten, some adults long for the deep, uninterrupted hush that can only be guaranteed by child-free space. In response, more and more businesses are starting to cater for the commercial demands of the child-free, with adult-only property developments, health spas and holiday resorts.

Hanora'sCottage is an award-winning country house in the Nire Valley, Co Waterford, that aims to provide adults with a luxurious pampering experience. Guests can feel confident that there won't be any youngsters dive-bombing them in the jacuzzi, because the guesthouse operates a no-children policy. Proprietor Mary Wall is keen to stress that she has nothing against children themselves - "I have five of my own" - but believes that in today's frenetic society adults need a place to wind down and switch off without the clamour that children can bring: "In fact, some of our guests are young parents themselves, taking time off from the pressures of bringing up their kids."

While few people would advocate a return to the "seen and not heard" approach to childrearing, or the arcane etiquette of the finishing school, it seems that there's a growing frustration with the ever-louder demands of indulged, self-centred and ill-mannered children.

As parents, perhaps it's time to put a foot firmly down - both for our sanity and their own.