A new Netflix docuseries explores the unseen complexities and dark possibilities of child influencing in our modern internet age, raising urgent questions and highlighting the critical need for legal protections for kid influencers once their internet presence turns into work—a full-time job that, at times, financially supports their families.
Released last week, “ Bad Influence: The Dark Side of Kidfluencing ” shares how Youtube star Piper Rockelle—who began posting videos at eight years old and garnered 12 million subscribers and about 1.87 billion views—and her “Squad” of fellow pre-teen social media influencers worked and lived in a toxic environment under Rockelle's "momager", Tiffany Smith, and Smith's boyfriend, Hunter Hill.
The three-part exposé dives into the harsh, manipulative, and complex working conditions that “Squad” members experienced while working with Smith and Hill, who created a physically, mentally, and emotionally unsafe environment for the underage content creators.
In 2022, eleven former “Squad” members filed a complaint against Smith and Hill for “emotional, verbal, physical, and, at times, sexual abuse” when they were active members of the Squad. The child abuse lawsuit was settled in October 2024 for $1.85 million—incredibly short of the $22 million that was originally sought—with all parties specifically disclaiming any liability.
All former “Squad” members who have spoken out are still intensely impacted by the trauma caused by Smith and Hunter, whether their online careers have been irreparably damaged and/or they are experiencing long-term post-traumatic stress. Attorney Matt Sarelson shared in the documentary that, “In many ways, a lawsuit is where justice goes to die.”
The viral series explains how managers of influencers have been able to circumvent child labor laws and protections put in place for children in the entertainment industry.
“These abuse allegations against Tiffany, which include battery and child labor violations, are not unique to the Piper Rockelle/Tiffany case,” Lorenz said in the series. “These are common forms of abuse that are rampant in the ‘kidfluencer’ industry.
Several culture experts have criticized the lack of connection between many political figures and pop culture, emphasizing the importance of understanding pop culture and acknowledging its significant impact on individuals and groups.
“‘Kidfluencing’ right now is the wild, wild west. I mean, there’s no regulations that keep these influencers safe,” said Brandon Stewart, Content Strategist, CEO of Brandon Studios
“It’s an unregulated frontier of the entertainment industry,” shared Attorney Jeremiah D. Graham. “When a child is treated like this, they shouldn’t have to go out and hire private attorneys in order to vindicate their rights.”
“The government has absolutely no appetite to implement any sort of meaningful regulations in this industry. They still treat this industry as a joke,” said Lorenz. “Lawmakers are often 70 to 80 years old. They don’t take this world seriously at all. They make fun of it. They mock it…And until we start taking this industry seriously until we start viewing influencing as labor, these kids are screwed.”
Legal Protections for Child and Teenage Influencers
Quit Clicking Kids, founded by Chris McCarty, who was featured in the docuseries, advocates for legislation that protects the well-being of child influencers. The initiative looks to expand protections for child actors to child influencers.
In 2022, McCarty worked with Washington State Rep. Emily Wicks (D) to craft and introduce HB 2023. The bill would require guardians to set aside a percentage of social media earnings for children featured in the content and, once they reach the age of 18, allow former child influencers to request the removal of content in which they appear. In 2023, the bill was reintroduced as HB 1627 by Washington State Rep. Kristine Reeves (D) with no changes.
“I think one of the biggest misconceptions is not seeing it as work, especially for the kids,” commented McCarty. “It is very much not a hobby for many of these influencers. It is a job. And in some cases, it’s the primary or even the only source of income for these families. That has the potential to place an undue burden on these children to create content.”
In 2023, Governor J.B. Pritzker (D) signed SB 1782 into law, making Illinois the first state to implement financial protections for child influencers.
In 2024, California Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) signed two bills that protect child and teenage influencers from financial abuse:
AB 1880 expanded the Coogan Law —which requires employers of child performers and creators to save at least 15% of their gross earnings in a trust, accessible once the child reaches adulthood—to also financially protect underaged content creators.
SB 764 requires that parents or guardians of minors featured in monetized online content set aside a percentage of their earnings in trust accounts.
Despite the growing call for legal protections, the pressing question remains:
How can we increase safety regulations to protect the entire well-being, not just the financial well-being, of child and teenage influencers?
Currently, advocates call for educating audiences and reforming internet culture to be more skeptical about child-centered content and to be more concerned for the well-being of children featured in monetized content. Others point to social media platforms, stating that it is their responsibility to rethink their business models and prioritize the safety of children.
“We really just need to educate people. We need to change the culture. We need to change norms around parenting,” stated Lorenz. “The fundamental problem is the business model of these platforms and these capitalist incentives.”
Belén Dumont is a freelance reporter and associate editor at The Fulcrum.
A deep look at how "All in the Family" remains a striking mirror of American politics, class tensions, and cultural manipulation—proving its relevance decades later.
All in This American Family
There are a few shows that have aged as eerily well as All in the Family.
It’s not just that it’s still funny and has the feel not of a sit-com, but of unpretentious, working-class theatre. It’s that, decades later, it remains one of the clearest windows into the American psyche. Archie Bunker’s living room has been, as it were, a small stage on which the country has been working through the same contradictions, anxieties, and unresolved traumas that still shape our politics today. The manipulation of the working class, the pitting of neighbor against neighbor, the scapegoating of the vulnerable, the quiet cruelties baked into everyday life—all of it is still here with us. We like to reassure ourselves that we’ve progressed since the early 1970s, but watching the show now forces an unsettling recognition: The structural forces that shaped Archie’s world have barely budged. The same tactics of distraction and division deployed by elites back then are still deployed now, except more efficiently, more sleekly.
Archie himself is the perfect vessel for this continuity. He is bigoted, blustery, reactive, but he is also wounded, anxious, and constantly misled by forces above and beyond him. Norman Lear created Archie not as a monster to be hated (Lear’s genius was to make Archie lovable despite his loathsome stands), but as a man trapped by the political economy of his era: A union worker who feels his country slipping away, yet cannot see the hands that are actually moving it. His anger leaks sideways, onto immigrants, women, “hippies,” and anyone with less power than he has. The real villains—the wealthy, the connected, the manufacturers of grievance—remain safely and comfortably offscreen. That’s part of the show’s key insight: It reveals how elites thrive by making sure working people turn their frustrations against each other rather than upward.
Edith, often dismissed as naive or scatterbrained, functions as the show’s quiet moral center. Her compassion exposes the emotional void in Archie’s worldview and, in doing so, highlights the costs of the divisions that powerful interests cultivate. Meanwhile, Mike the “Meathead” represents a generation trying to break free from those divisions but often trapped in its own loud self-righteousness. Their clashes are not just family arguments but collisions between competing visions of America’s future. And those visions, tellingly, have yet to resolve themselves.
The political context of the show only sharpens its relevance. Premiering in 1971, All in the Family emerged during the Nixon years, when the “Silent Majority” strategy was weaponizing racial resentment, cultural panic, and working-class anxiety to cement power. Archie was a fictional embodiment of the very demographic Nixon sought to mobilize and manipulate. The show exposed, often bluntly, how economic insecurity was being rerouted into cultural hostility. Watching the show today, it’s impossible to miss how closely that logic mirrors the present, from right-wing media ecosystems to politicians who openly rely on stoking grievances rather than addressing root causes.
What makes the show unsettling today is that its satire feels less like a relic and more like a mirror. The demagogic impulses it spotlighted have simply found new platforms. The working-class anger it dramatized has been harvested by political operatives who, like their 1970s predecessors, depend on division to maintain power. The very cultural debates that fueled Archie’s tirades — about immigration, gender roles, race, and national identity—are still being used as tools to distract from wealth concentration and political manipulation.
If anything, the divisions are sharper now because the mechanisms of manipulation are more sophisticated, for much has been learned by The Machine. The same emotional raw material Lear mined for comedy is now algorithmically optimized for outrage. The same social fractures that played out around Archie’s kitchen table now play out on a scale he couldn’t have imagined. But the underlying dynamics haven’t changed at all.
That is why All in the Family feels so contemporary. The country Lear dissected never healed or meaningfully evolved: It simply changed wardrobe. The tensions, prejudices, and insecurities remain, not because individuals failed to grow but because the economic and political forces that thrive on division have only become more entrenched. Until we confront the political economy that kept Archie and Michael locked in an endless loop of circular bickering, the show will remain painfully relevant for another fifty years.
Ahmed Bouzid is the co-founder of The True Representation Movement.