Reviews
I was drawn to Bad For You, released in 2014, because it appeared to be about the exact topic of my 2001 thesis: moral panics over youth culture and juvenile delinquency. In 100 pages of text, I reviewed how the press has portrayed comic books, rock 'n roll, Dungeons & Dragons, and video games as causal to the corruption of youth. With the exception of rock 'n roll, Bad For You covers these topics in five broad categories of activities that children are discouraged or barred from enjoying: comics, games, technology, play, and thought. Each chapter is about 35 pages and mixes black-and-white comic panels with longer prose. Bad For You is current as of 2012, referencing the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. Despite my previous research into these areas, I learned a great deal from this book, especially in the areas I hadn't written about. The chapter on "Play" reviews the history of the American education system. I didn't realize its origin had much the same inspirations and influences as Aldous Huxley's Brave New World — how terrifying! The authors come down harshly on standardized testing and recommend more diverse, individualized curricula including science, arts, sports, and critical thinking. I also didn't realize the transformation America's playgrounds had undergone — and not for the better. The chapter on "Thought" looks at the many clashes that students have had with authority. If children can be tried as adults in court, shouldn't they have the same rights and freedoms as adults? Instead, according to Bad For You, schools are the only place in the country where people can be legally beaten. Eek. I have only two concerns about this book. First, an early chapter explains the difference between correlation and causation, and that just because two things are happening at the same time does not mean they're related. Yet the book then falls into that trap multiple times, such as by demonstrating that youth violence is down while video game sales are up. That's bad science! There was also at least one factual error when the authors note that Atari founded Chuck E. Cheese as a way to market their arcade games to children. What's true is that Nolan Bushnell was the founder of both Atari and Chuck E. Cheese — but the connection stops there. Overall, I enjoyed this book: it reviewed some familiar ground while giving me plenty of new material to mull over. Although it's ostensibly aimed at kids, I would instead recommend it to adults who can think more critically about the text and perhaps do something with their findings.
