As a culture, we have long been fascinated by the spectacle of young women falling apart. The 19-century public and medical establishment had their hysterics; our tabloid culture has its drunk-driving, drug-addicted, anorexic celebrities.

Last week, after Lindsay Lohan was booked on misdemeanor charges of suspicion of driving under the influence and driving on a suspended license, and felony charges of possession of cocaine and transport of a narcotic — which could earn her jail time — Nicole Richie received her own sentence of 90 hours in jail and three years of probation for driving under the influence of drugs. Photographs of her walking out of the courthouse, published in most of the major Saturday newspapers, showed her looking like a young widow, in black, with her now angular face hidden behind huge sunglasses.

Despite the tackiness of the celebrity/ Hollywood/party culture these women are part of, there is something genuinely sad about their downward spirals. It is clear that, even while they whittle away at their silhouettes, the real emptiness is inside, where their core of identity and self-worth ought to be.

Who or what’s to blame? In Ms. Lohan’s and Ms. Richie’s lives, the culprits are plentiful: too much money, too little education, too little or destructive parenting, an unstructured life, and a toxic group of friends, who want these rich young stars to facilitate their own partying.

These are the factors that make these women’s lives exceptional. But their breakdowns also point to larger problems with a culture that, in varied ways, hurries young people through childhood and adolescence. Ms. Lohan missed having a normal childhood because she has lousy parents and because she is an actress.

But many young women, and young men, rush over stages of development for other reasons: Their lives are overbooked with extra-curricular activities, homework, and SAT tutoring, and their and their parents’ attention is focused on how to get into the right college, rather than how to become the kind of grounded person who can really benefit from college, and then go on to lead a productive and fulfilling life.

In the scramble for external rewards, like top grades or sports championships, neither children nor their parents make enough time for the small things that contribute to a centered identity, for which no trophies are given. Reading for pleasure, experiences in nature, and family conversation come to mind. The number of children and adolescents being medicated for hyperactivity, anxiety, or depression are evidence of the psychological distortions that our society’s mixed messages and mixed-up values produce.

The acceleration through adolescence and the pressure to succeed are particularly confusing to young women, since for many — Hollywood actresses are only the most extreme example — success is closely tied to the exercise of sexual power. Young actresses are turned into sex objects before they are of a consenting age, while all girls are encouraged — by popular culture, advertising, friends, even parents — to think about being attractive to men long before they are in touch with, let alone know how to manage, their own sexuality.

What does Ms. Lohan need? Some time off from movies, a serious detoxification program, hundreds of hours of therapy, and — the longest shot — a kind and sensible adult to come into her life and provide some guidance and stability. Although she’s technically an adult, having just turned 21, in terms of emotional maturity, she’s about 13.

As for the rest of us, parents might ask their children what they think of Ms. Lohan’s flame-out and use the occasion to find out whether or not their lives feel overcharged. The construction of a sturdy self — a self that can withstand pressures and temptations and traumas — is a slow and complex process. And it’s that process that parents should foster and supervise, not the accumulation of a shelf full of trophies, or a line of A’s down a report card.