Last year, as I stood outside Sweet Suite, a mom with a camera was trying to get the attention of her daughter who looked to be about six. Dazzled by all the color and excitement, the daughter was distracted. Finally, her mother yelled, “Why can’t you just twirl for the camera?” It was harsh, and her daughter started to cry, which made it even more difficult to get the shot. I didn’t watch much more.
I’ve been at other events where I’ve watched kids have to play with toys and do multiple takes as they were directed by parents—and long after the kid was tired enough to drop.
These events—and many others—led me to start saying a couple of years ago that the next stage mothers (and fathers) are going to be influencer parents. Seriously, I’ve seen kids worked harder than Judy Garland on the MGM lot to get the perfect shot. And we all know how that turned out for Judy.
It’s like the musical Gypsy where Rose, a rabid stage mother, pushes her children past the breaking point—and they leave her. (True, Rose does get one of the most thrilling 11 O’Clock numbers in musical theater, but that’s not really the point here.) The point is that the story of the legendary burlesque artist Gypsy Rose Lee did not begin with a happy childhood.
A new article in Cosmopolitan, however, rips the lids off the myriad Mommie (and Daddy) Dearests and talks about how kids have been exploited and overworked as influencers, giving up social time, fun, friends all in service of the business—and they kids have never seen a dime of the money that they’ve earned for their families. It’s the Gary Coleman story, among others, and it was the basis for California’s 1939 Coogan Law (after child actor Jackie Coogan who was similarly shortchanged) that stipulates that 15 percent of a child’s total earnings must be placed in trust for the child until they are 18.
Given the history of parents needing money, driven kids, and the siren song of show biz, stories in the Cosmo article are alarming but not surprising. The amount of money is mind-boggling, and the adults say they couldn’t make that much in a more traditional job. The cost, however, to the workhorse children sometimes makes you think David Copperfield had a cushy job gluing labels on bottles of shoe blacking. (Okay, that one’s fiction, but it’s based on Dickens having to go to work to support his dad who kept ending up in debtors’ prison.)
All of that aside, this new exposé really raises two questions:
First, what is the impact and value of influencers in today’s marketing mix? I’m hearing less reliance on paid influencers and more “organic” (i.e. not paid) influencers who are monetizing their content without being paid to be produce it. Moreover, the influencer field is crowded, and what used to be “ticking the box” in a marketing plan is now getting a lot more scrutiny in terms of ROI. As we’ve seen in other areas, there is inevitably a fall out. This is clearly a maturing, if not mature, market, and future contraction is inevitable.
Second, though, as I read the article, it struck me that while the toy industry and ICTI have taken leadership roles in ensuring fair labor practices and no child labor, here we are supporting exploitation of children as performers. This, too, is nothing new. Years after kids were taken out of factories and got public education, kids on the Hollywood lots were being worked to the bone. The difference is that it’s perceived to be a lot more glamorous to be on the silver screen than to be working on an assembly line, but the result is the same. A child is overworked, has to carry undue responsibility and stress, and is robbed of a normal growing up process.
Too, the stories told by some of the now-grown influencers could break your heart. Mostly, they really never had a chance to have a childhood. The play they engaged in was performative and never really experienced, and as implied above, some of the moms could give Joan Crawford a run for her money.
Now, I’m in no way suggesting that the toy industry or companies that hire influencers are directly responsible for the bad working conditions of some of these kids. However, in contracting with these influencers—and their parents—there is a level of complicity. As this story gets more traction—and it will—it’s not a good look to be supporting people who exploit kids. Just as manufacturers have a code of conduct that allows them to operate ethically, one is going to be needed here as well…or get ready for some blowback.
The good news is that there are laws working their way through legislatures designed to expand the Coogan Law to influencer kids. There is more attention being paid to the kids, and companies can ensure that the people they are contracting with are working appropriately.
After all, wouldn’t you rather see (and have the people you’re marketing to see) a kid authentically having fun than struggling through take seventy-two at 2 AM?
What do you think?
Dear Chris, thank you for writing about this! I work in the toy industry and so many moms (it’s always moms) want our business’s attention. I worry about these “influencer kids” and their exposure to anyone on the Internet. Sometimes these moms even send photos of their kids, along with their social media handles. It’s concerning.