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TIME: Almanac 1995
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TIME Almanac 1995.iso
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1994-03-25
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<text id=93TT1253>
<title>
Mar. 22, 1993: If Not the Jetsons, What?
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
Mar. 22, 1993 Can Animals Think
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
TELEVISION, Page 64
If Not the Jetsons, What?
</hdr>
<body>
<p>Educational shows will work only if everyone stops treating
them like spinach
</p>
<p>By RICHARD ZOGLIN--With reporting by Elizabeth L. Bland/New
York and Patrick E. Cole/Los Angeles
</p>
<p> In the world of children's TV, the bad guys and good guys
are easy to tell apart. The bad guys, everybody knows, are
local TV stations that try to pass off cartoon shows like G.I.
Joe and The Jetsons as "educational." The good guys are kindly
kids' show hosts like Shari Lewis, who brought her puppet Lamb
Chop to Washington last week to help plead for better
children's programming. "We need the best you grownups have to
offer," the sock puppet testified before a House subcommittee.
"If you give it to us, we will give the good stuff back."
</p>
<p> A little background while glucose levels return to normal.
</p>
<p> After years of neglect, children's TV is once again
getting close scrutiny from the Federal Government. Under a
provision of the Children's Television Act of 1990, stations are
required to air at least some programming that serves the
"educational and informational needs" of children. The trick,
of course, is figuring out what constitutes educational fare.
A number of stations tried to satisfy the rules by putting a
fresh coat of public-service paint on rusty old entertainment
shows. Among the programs thrust under the education rubric,
according to a study by the Washington-based Center for Media
Education, were Super Mario Brothers (cited for demonstrating
the importance of "self-confidence"), The Jetsons (for teaching
kids what life might be like in the 21st century) and Leave It
to Beaver (for promoting the values of "communication and
trust").
</p>
<p> Such creative bookkeeping didn't sit well with the Federal
Communications Commission, which announced that it was delaying
the license renewal of seven stations because of their record
on children's programming. The agency also narrowed its
definition of educational fare to exclude entertainment shows
that simply have positive social themes. The House hearings last
week ratchetted up the pressure another notch. Representative
Edward Markey, a Massachusetts Democrat, produced the requisite
sound bite: "Children's TV on commercial broadcast television
today remains the video equivalent of a Twinkie."
</p>
<p> Producers and stations are now grappling with the problem
of how to get some more spinach into the diet--and, just as
important, how to get kids to eat it. A batch of informational
shows on the syndication market are drawing renewed attention.
They include Beakman's World, a lighthearted science program
featuring a frizzy-haired Mr. Wizard, currently seen on 225
stations; Scratch, a magazine-style show aimed at teens, airing
on 110 stations; and Real News for Kids, a Turner Broadcasting
production carried on 210. NBC has a new Saturday-morning entry
in the field: Name Your Adventure, in which kids are given a
chance to live out fantasies. The Children's Television
Workshop, which gave birth to Big Bird for PBS, is developing
an animated show for ABC next fall based on David Macaulay's
book The Way Things Work.
</p>
<p> But such shows are struggling to find an audience. Many of
the syndicated offerings are being run in little-watched time
periods, often before 7 a.m. "The demand isn't there yet to
produce programming of this nature," says Barry Thurston,
president of Columbia Pictures Television Distribution, which
syndicates Beakman's World. "This is not an area where a
producer is going to make a lot of money." The government can
legislate more air time for educational TV, argues John Miller,
executive vice president of NBC Entertainment, but "whether kids
will watch those shows is another question."
</p>
<p> The kidvid crackdown has its troublesome aspects. For one
thing, the rules apply only to broadcasting stations--not to
cable channels, which can continue to lure young viewers with
all the cartoons they want. The creation of a new category of
educational fare, moreover, may simply ghettoize such
programming and turn kids off. The very notion of educational
TV often seems to reflect narrow, schoolmarmish notions.
Live-action shows are almost automatically preferred over
cartoons, and some sweetly innocent shows, like Barney and
Friends, seem to win approval largely because they shelter kids
from the rude real world--a strange notion of education
indeed.
</p>
<p> But this is a children's story, and the good guys get the
last word. Peggy Charren, the veteran kidvid activist, notes
that educational shows rarely get high ratings because they
must be geared toward specific age groups; that is why
government monitoring must supplement the marketplace. "It's a
bloody shame," she says, "that in a country as rich and
achieving as this one, you had to drag the broadcasters kicking
and screaming to serve children." Now, perhaps, the kicking may
subside and the serving will start.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>