'Kid Nation' Borders Open To a Flood Of Bad Publicity

TV critics and reporters at the summer press tour, trolling the Internet while half listening to cast and crew of some new show or other blather on about how "it's all about the writing" or whatever, saw the story on the TV Week Web site, sat up and took notice. This was juicy stuff.

From there, the story spread like one of those STDs the parents of the "Kid Nation" kids can't sue CBS over if their child contracted one during the shoot.

One paper asked three of the mothers, "What were you thinking?" and recorded their responses. Other news reports surfaced of children forced to cook their own meals and clean their outhouses, and having to get up when the roosters started crowing -- a.k.a., my mother's childhood in Upstate New York. Far more disturbing reports were of a child allegedly burned by splattered grease and others who drank bleach from an unmarked pop bottle. Reports cited back-and-forthing between attorneys representing the production company, Good TV Inc., and various New Mexico government offices as to whether work permits should have been sought and whether the children were "employees."

Once the newspapers had given the story a good thrashing, TV news and infotainment shows jumped on the bandwagon, some devoting a full 30 seconds to their reports, including experts delivering zippy "No good can come of reality TV" quotes.

By the end of this week, CBS, which had been serving up some select kids, parents, producers and network execs to reporters, had drawn in the troops and issued a statement packed full of indignation. "Kid Nation" was a "voluntary television experience," the network said, "filmed responsibly and within all applicable laws in the state of New Mexico at the time of production." (Those laws have since been changed.)

In addition, CBS -- which may now be suffering from having oversold that "40 children, 40 days, no adults" tagline when it unveiled the show back in May -- insisted in its statement that the show was "extraordinary" in its "behind-the-scenes support structure." That included "on-site paramedics, a pediatrician, an animal safety expert and a child psychologist, not to mention a roster of producers assigned to monitor the kids' behavior," the network said.

"This meant that the few minor injuries that took place were all treated immediately and by professionals," CBS said in its statement. It did not elaborate on what the injuries were. The children were free to leave at any time.

"These kids were in good hands and under good care with procedures and safety structures that arguably rival or surpass any school or camp in the country."

In conclusion, CBS said, "We will therefore not accept irresponsible allegations or any attempts to misrepresent and exaggerate events, or spread false claims about what happened during the filming of KID NATION. The course of action now being undertaken by one parent is distorting the true picture of the KID NATION experience, about which the overwhelming majority of kids are highly enthusiastic and happy; a sentiment shared by their parents, too."

It's difficult to know what the other parents, except those few who were allowed to do interviews, really think about the experience. All of them had to sign a participation agreement that includes a strict confidentiality clause covering disclosure of information about the show and contact with the media for three years after the show. If they violate the pact, the agreement says they may be liable to CBS for a $5 million penalty. This agreement is not unlike those signed by participants on other reality series; it takes on more ominous overtones when signed by the parents of 8-year-olds so their children can be served up to entertain the masses in the fall.