Kids Media Club Podcast

They debate what hiring a big-tech executive means for the BBC and whether a platform-first strategy will reshape kids media. They celebrate a YouTube-native music show getting picked up by Netflix and what that pipeline means for creators. They stress that fandom and lasting IP take years to build and offer cautious optimism about new original kids movies finding an audience.

This is a short, unplanned emergency episode — Andy, Jo, and Emily jumping on a three-way call in real time to react to a double dose of seismic industry news landing in the same day. First came the announcement that World Screen (and its TV Kids publication) would be ceasing to publish. Then, as the episode was being recorded, the news dropped that the Kids Screen Summit would not be returning in 2027, with parent company Brunico Communications confirming it is discontinuing its entire US events portfolio — Kids Screen, Realscreen, and NATPE among them. Jocelyn Christie, who has long been the face of Kids Screen, is also departing.The trio don't dress it up. Kids Screen Summit has been, as the official announcement itself acknowledges, the heartbeat of the international kids content community for 30 years — the event that defined careers, brokered relationships, and gave the industry its annual gathering point. Its loss, coming alongside World Screen's closure, feels like more than a coincidence of bad timing.The conversation quickly moves to the why. Andy notes that the most recent Kids Screen Summit was noticeably down on attendance, raising real questions about whether the numbers could ever add up again. Jo and Emily point to the structural shifts underneath: the kids media industry is under sustained pressure across funding, distribution, and monetisation, and the traditional event model — built around large corporate delegations from major broadcasters like Disney who could absorb the cost of sending whole departments — no longer reflects the reality of who is actually in the room. With fewer buyers, a more fragmented landscape, and individual attendees increasingly having to justify the expense themselves, the value proposition has fundamentally changed.There's a broader point made about what these events were actually for, and whether that purpose still exists. Andy frames it neatly: these conferences were built around the gravitational pull of the big broadcasters, and when that gravitational force weakens, everything orbiting around it drifts. Emily raises the comparison with World Screen's TV Kids online summits, which have continued to attract strong speakers without requiring anyone to get on a plane — a model that perhaps points to where things are heading.The episode ends on a note that's equal parts rueful and forward-looking, with Jo floating the idea that the Kids Media Club itself might have a role to play in filling some of the vacuum being left behind.Key Takeaways:Kids Screen Summit will not return in 2027, with Brunico Communications discontinuing its full US events portfolio — a significant moment for an event that has been central to the kids content industry for three decades.World Screen and TV Kids have also ceased publishing, meaning the industry has lost two major institutional pillars in a single day.Declining attendance was already a warning sign — the most recent Kids Screen was visibly down on numbers, raising questions about sustainability that have now been answered.The traditional event model was built for a different industry — when major broadcasters could fund large corporate delegations, the economics worked. With fewer buyers and more individual attendees justifying costs themselves, the model has become increasingly difficult to sustain.This is symptomatic of deeper industry-wide pressure — the loss of these events reflects the same structural stresses around funding, distribution, and monetisation that have been reshaping kids media more broadly.The gravitational pull of the big broadcasters is weakening — and the conferences, markets, and publications that were built around that pull are feeling it acutely.Online events may point to a more viable model — the TV Kids online summits are cited as an example of strong programming delivered without the barrier of travel costs and logistics.A vacuum is forming, and the question of what — or who — fills it is now very much open.

This bonus episode takes a different format, with Emily reporting live from the Animation Dingle Festival in County Kerry, Ireland. Rather than a single guest, the episode brings together three separate conversations captured across the festival weekend: an interview with co-founder and festival director Maurice Galway, a chat with veteran screenwriter and director Karey Kirkpatrick, and a conversation with Ailbhe Fearon and Muireann Mulvihill, the two recent graduates who swept the festival's Animation Awards with their short film Anam.Maurice sets the scene by explaining what makes Animation Dingle distinct from the industry's typical market-driven events. Now approaching its 15th year, the festival deliberately caps attendance at 750 and keeps its split exactly 50/50 between students and professionals — a structural choice that keeps the focus squarely on education and mentorship rather than deal-making. Maurice talks through several initiatives designed to lower the intimidation barrier for students, including the "Pitch and a Pint" session where students pitch directly to executives from broadcasters and streamers, a new confessional-style format for sharing ideas too wild or half-formed for a public pitch, and a "Tell Your Untold Story" stage coaching session. A theme Maurice returns to is the two-way nature of the inspiration: professionals arrive to give, and consistently leave having received something themselves from the energy and enthusiasm in the room.Karey Kirkpatrick brings a sharp perspective on the state of the industry, drawing on a long career that includes work with Aardman and multiple original features. The central argument she makes is that the entertainment industry has become so risk-averse — particularly as studios answer to shareholders rather than creative leads — that the idea of a "sure thing" has taken over, even though it doesn't really exist. She uses K Pop Demon Hunters as a case study in how a genuinely original, unconventional idea can catch fire when it's given the right platform and timing, but notes that the same idea would likely have been passed over repeatedly in a pitch room. The conversation turns to what this means for emerging creators, and Karey's advice is clear and practical: don't wait to be discovered through a pitch, make things. Streamers in particular, she argues, are increasingly behaving like distribution platforms rather than development partners — meaning the work needs to demonstrate proof of concept before it reaches them, not after. Her summary advice to students is to build the craft fundamentals so that when a door opens, they can handle the pressure that comes with it.The episode closes with Ailbhe Fearon and Muireann Mulvihill, whose Irish-language short Anam — meaning "soul" — won seven awards at the festival, including the overall Student Animation Award. The film, about an old man and a young boy on the Aran Island of Inis Oírr, grew out of a two-week research residency on the island and draws on the philosophy of John O'Donohue and the concept of the inner child. Their commitment to making the film in Irish — not translating an English script but constructing it in the language from the ground up, down to getting the specific Inis Oírr dialect right — gives the conversation a quietly profound dimension. They also share the story of reaching out to musician Brian McGlynn (of New Vagabond) after listening to his album on repeat throughout their residency, and his score going on to win its own award at the festival. Both are newly graduated and keen to stay in the Irish animation space.Key Takeaways:Animation Dingle is deliberately not a market — the 50/50 student-to-professional split and the cap of 750 attendees are design choices that protect the festival's educational culture and make it distinct from every other industry gathering.Lowering the stakes unlocks participation — the confessional-style pitch format and the "Tell Your Untold Story" session are thoughtful responses to listening to what students actually need, recognising that not everyone thrives in a high-pressure public pitch environment.Inspiration runs both ways — professionals who come to give frequently report leaving re-energised by students' creativity and enthusiasm, something Maurice says has become one of the festival's unexpected gifts.There is no such thing as a sure thing in entertainment — Karey Kirkpatrick's core argument is that the attempt to science-ify creative risk is both futile and damaging, and that some of the industry's biggest successes (K Pop Demon Hunters, Anora) would have struggled to get made under current risk frameworks.Fear is driving creative conservatism at the executive level — the pressure of reporting to shareholders rather than creative stakeholders means executives default to "defensible" choices over bold ones, which is hurting original IP across the board.Streamers are becoming distributors, not developers — Karey's observation that streamers want work that's already beyond the idea phase, already executed with some competence, has significant implications for how emerging creators should be thinking about building their careers.For students entering the industry: make things, build FOMO — the practical advice from Karey is to create a body of work that generates a sense of momentum and demand, rather than waiting for a pitch to land. Proof of engagement is now more valuable than a great pitch alone.The Irish language is a storytelling asset, not just a box to tick — Ailbhe Fearon and Mulreann's insistence on making Anam in Irish rather than dubbing it, and their careful attention to Inis Oírr dialect, is held up as an example of authenticity that audiences and judges responded to strongly.Animation in Ireland is in a strong moment — the quality of student work on show at Animation Dingle, and the international talent it attracts, reflects a wider sense that Irish animation is punching well above its weight as an industry.

Ashley Mady, President of Zigazoo, leads product and safety at a challenge-based social platform for kids. She explains Zigazoo’s educator-led design, hybrid AI plus human moderation, and how the app rewards positive behavior through prompts and safe discovery. Topics include creator ecosystems, COPPA-compliant brand channels, family consent flows, and initiatives for youth digital wellness.

This bonus episode of the Kids Media Club sees Andy and Jo joined by Emily, who has just published her latest Netflix Kids Content Performance Report — a deep dive into Netflix's engagement data covering the second half of 2025. It's a data-rich conversation that covers which shows are winning, which are declining, and what it all means for the wider kids content landscape.The headline finding is that Paw Patrol has taken the number one spot by hours viewed in H2 2025, driven by its first-ever US Netflix window opening in July. It's a significant moment that underscores just how competitive the preschool segment has become — Gabby's Dollhouse held the top spot in H1, Ms. Rachel has climbed from sixth to fourth place, and Cocomelon, while still enormous, is showing signs of decline. The preschool race, as Emily puts it, is very much a ten or fifteen horse race.Sesame Street's arrival on Netflix gets a thoughtful treatment. Launching with just four episodes, it performed modestly — and the group unpick why. Is it a volume problem? A brand perception issue, with audiences still associating the show firmly with PBS and YouTube rather than Netflix? Or simply that Sesame Street hasn't yet established a home on the platform? Emily is generous in her read of it, noting the brand's smart collaboration with YouTube creator Mark Rober as a savvy move to stay relevant — and Rober's own Netflix show, Crunch Lab, posted strong launch numbers.That leads into a broader conversation about Netflix's creator economy strategy. The platform has been quietly building a pipeline of YouTube-native talent — Cocomelon, Little Angel, Blippi, Ms. Rachel, and now Mark Rober — and the data suggests the crossover approach is paying off in engagement terms. Jo raises the interesting point that Netflix appeared to step back from kids originals after disbanding its dedicated team, only to start commissioning original and exclusive content with creator talent again. The consensus is that Netflix never fully stepped away — it just got more selective, leaning into broader "family" content alongside its core kids slate.SpongeBob emerges as one of the episode's most interesting talking points. Generating 143 million hours viewed on Netflix without a US window, Emily argues the Sponge is quietly having a moment that the industry isn't talking about loudly enough. She floats the prediction that SpongeBob could overtake Bluey as the top kids show in US streaming in 2026 — and notes what the strength of both SpongeBob and the Warner animation catalog (Teen Titans Go, The Amazing World of Gumball) could mean in the context of the Paramount-Warner merger.The deeper theme running through the episode is the extraordinary durability of long-running IP. Paw Patrol at 15 years old, SpongeBob at 25, Peppa at 20 — these shows have entered a multigenerational pass-down mode where they remain fresh enough for new young audiences while carrying nostalgia value for older ones. For anyone trying to break through with a new show, that's the competitive reality they're up against.The episode closes with a look at Gabby's Dollhouse's prospects for long-term franchise status, and a frank assessment of Cocomelon's decline — which Emily argues is structural rather than a failure of execution, given how narrowly age-targeted the IP is by design.Key Takeaways:Paw Patrol is Netflix's most-viewed kids show in H2 2025, powered by its US streaming debut — a clear illustration of how much a new territory window can move the needle on an established IP.Preschool is the most competitive segment on Netflix, with Gabby's Dollhouse, Ms. Rachel, Paw Patrol, and Cocomelon all jostling for position. No single show dominates the full year.Sesame Street's modest debut was likely a volume and perception problem — four episodes is thin for a brand of its stature, and audiences may not yet associate it with Netflix given its long history on PBS and YouTube.Netflix's creator-to-streaming pipeline is working — shows like Ms. Rachel and Mark Rober's Crunch Lab demonstrate that YouTube-native talent can drive strong streaming engagement, and Netflix appears to be doubling down on that strategy with original commissions.SpongeBob is underrated in the industry conversation — top animated comedy globally on Netflix without US distribution, and a genuine contender to be the number one kids streaming show in the US in 2026.Long-running, multigenerational IP is the hardest thing to compete with — shows like SpongeBob, Peppa, and Paw Patrol are being passed down from parents who grew up with them, giving them a structural advantage that newer shows simply don't have yet.Cocomelon's decline is structural, not a crisis — its very young target demographic limits its ability to build the multigenerational audience that sustains IP over the long term. Still huge; just not built to grow the way story-driven shows can.Gabby's Dollhouse has genuine franchise longevity potential, particularly if the team can extend the live-action talent into formats that grow with the audience — something Emily sees as a clear opportunity.The "family" designation matters more than it might seem — shows that appeal across age groups, from kids to parents, consistently deliver better engagement numbers and longer shelf lives than narrowly targeted content.

This is the second half of the Kids Media Club's conversation with Chris Heatherly, the former Disney executive who oversaw Club Penguin at its peak. The discussion picks up where part one left off, diving deep into online safety, the realities of moderating kids' platforms at scale, and where kids gaming is headed next.Chris pulls no punches on the subject of child safety online. He walks through the specific tools Club Penguin used — heavy speech filtering, outright bans for serious offences, and a clever technique called "fake send," where borderline messages appeared to send but were never actually delivered to other users. The insight behind fake send is worth sitting with: when bad actors stopped getting a social reaction to their behaviour, they largely stopped bothering.He's equally candid about the limits of any platform's ability to keep kids safe, and draws a sharp distinction between what he sees as genuine child protection efforts and a broader political movement using child safety rhetoric to push for internet regulation that would affect everyone. It's a provocative argument, and one that sparks a good back-and-forth with the hosts.Roblox comes up repeatedly throughout the episode, with Chris offering a robust defence of the platform against what he considers unfair criticism. He points out that the most serious harm tends to happen off platform — predators use Roblox to make contact but drive kids elsewhere to avoid detection — and argues that Roblox's moderation efforts are more substantial than the headlines suggest. He also shares some remarkable behind-the-scenes stories from the Club Penguin era, including a DDoS attack during a Star Wars event that exposed Disney's complete lack of cyber protection, and a subsequent investigation that pointed to a potential hostile foreign actor using teenage hackers as cover.The conversation then shifts to the state of kids gaming more broadly. Chris argues that the market effectively collapsed after COPPA-style regulation created an uneven playing field — legitimate kids platforms had to comply while others with large child audiences didn't bother — and that Roblox and Minecraft essentially rebuilt it from scratch. His framing of Roblox as "the new console" is a headline moment: he believes it represents a genuine architectural and business model shift away from the console and mobile era, not just another platform.On the creator economy, Chris is optimistic. He sees AI as the tool that finally lowers the barrier to game creation enough that the YouTube-to-Hollywood pipeline becomes the norm for gaming too. He also flags that handing development over to creators brings its own risks — notably questionable monetisation mechanics — though he's sceptical of some of the more alarmist takes around loot boxes.The episode closes with a strong point on parental involvement: platforms can't do it alone, and parents need to be treated as a distributed moderation force rather than passive bystanders.Takeaways:The Kids Media Club podcast is currently accepting sponsorship opportunities for interested parties.Listeners can engage with the podcast via LinkedIn or the official website for strategic conversations.Chris Heatherly, an influential figure at Disney, shared profound insights during our discussion on children's online safety.The conversation surrounding online safety for children remains critical and unresolved after two decades.The challenges faced by Club Penguin in moderating content are similar to those currently confronted by Roblox.We believe that empowering parents to monitor their children's online activity is essential for ensuring their safety.Links referenced in this episode:kidsmediaclubpodcast.comCompanies mentioned in this episode:DisneyClub PenguinRobloxPinterestSago SagoTakaboka

In this episode, Andy, Jo and Emily sit down with Chris Heatherly — former Disney executive, Club Penguin General Manager, and the man who ran the world's biggest kids' playground for nearly a decade. What follows is a candid, fascinating look at one of kids media's great "what ifs."Chris traces his journey from overseeing Disney's toy business to becoming the custodian of Club Penguin, the safe, customisable multiplayer world that, at its peak, boasted 200 million registered avatars and 300,000 concurrent players. He talks about the early days of the platform, the innovative toy-to-game codes that predated today's digital unlocks, and how a fan-created myth about blurry in-game artwork spawned Card Jitsu — a trading card game that briefly outsold Pokémon at Toys R Us.But the conversation goes deeper than nostalgia. Chris reflects honestly on why Club Penguin was ultimately shut down in 2017: a combination of the mobile transition (Club Penguin was built by artists who could code, not engineers), Disney's wider mismanagement of its games portfolio, and — perhaps most tellingly — corporate leadership that simply didn't understand the value of community. "I had suits ask me, 'what's the value of community?'" he recalls. It's a question that still stings, given what platforms built on exactly that principle are worth today.There's also a moving thread running through the episode about what Club Penguin was really for. Chris describes a mission to protect children's innocence in a media landscape that's constantly pushing maturity down to younger audiences. He shares a quote from a focus group participant — a girl who said that at school she wasn't the most popular, but on Club Penguin she could be whoever she wanted — that became the team's north star. That ethos extended to the platform's charity work too, with millions donated through the Coins for Change initiative, and an unusually rigorous commitment to making sure the money actually made an impact.Club Penguin may be gone, but as Chris points out, pirate servers running the game today have more active players than ever played during its official peak — and a new generation of lore has grown up entirely after his time. The nostalgia is real, and it's earned.Key TakeawaysCommunity is a product feature, not a side effect. Club Penguin's lasting cultural impact came from genuine human connection — moderators who replied to kids' emails, a team that listened to its audience, and leadership that treated the playground metaphor seriously. Platforms that stripped out those elements to cut costs never managed to replicate the magic.Artists who code build differently than engineers who design. Club Penguin's charm came from its creative-led origins. The comparison with Disney Infinity — a technology-first project — is instructive: one is still talked about with affection; the other isn't.User-generated culture is powerful, and ignoring it is expensive. Card Jitsu, one of Club Penguin's biggest hits, came directly from fan speculation. Disney's corporate structure struggled to understand how a platform could generate its own IP from the ground up — a lesson that Roblox and Minecraft would later prove at enormous scale.Corporate short-termism kills long-term value. The decision to shut down Club Penguin is presented here as one of the clearest examples of a business prioritising spreadsheet logic over strategic vision. Chris left Disney partly because he refused to be the one to close it.Protecting children's innocence is a genuine editorial position — and a commercially sound one. The longevity of Club Penguin's cultural footprint suggests that audiences — and their parents — are hungry for platforms that hold that line.Part two of this conversation continues next week.

This episode brings Andy, Jo, and Emily back together after a busy fortnight that saw the Kids Media Club divide and conquer — Emily and Andy heading to KidScreen in San Diego while Jo hosted the Kids and Teens Summit at MIP London. Here's what they came away with.The hierarchy is gone — and that's now official. Both events reflected something the podcast has been saying for a while: TV no longer sits at the top of the kids media food chain. YouTube, Roblox, and broadcast were all on equal footing — on the panels, and in the rooms. That shift from polite tolerance of digital platforms to genuine integration feels like a genuine turning point.KidScreen got intentional about YouTube and Roblox. Rather than token sessions, this year's programming offered real depth — from 101-level introductions to developer showcases — signalling that the industry has accepted these platforms as core infrastructure for young audiences, not add-ons.Jonathan Haidt's keynote caused friction. The Anxious Generation author's appearance divided the room, given that the very conference schedule celebrated platforms he believes are harmful to children. It made for an interesting tension — and a useful reminder that the debate around kids, screens, and wellbeing is far from settled.Social media bans: well-intentioned, but complicated. The team unpacks the nuance that came out of both events and the Children's Media Foundation day. Outright bans may actually let platforms off the hook. The COPPA regulations are held up as a cautionary tale — well-intentioned legislation that may have done unintended damage to the kids content ecosystem, with YouTube monetisation for children's content reduced to around 30% of what it once was.Kids media is facing a potential market failure. TV commissions for children's content were down 20% in 2025 — more than double the decline seen in other genres. Combined with reduced YouTube monetisation, the financial incentive to make content specifically for kids is shrinking. Some producers are already quietly dropping the word "kids" from how they describe themselves — something the team finds genuinely alarming.Roblox is getting ahead of the crosshairs. Andrew Bareza from Twin Atlas (the studio behind Creatures of Sonaria and various Lego activations) addressed safety concerns directly and clearly at MIP London — walking through the toolsets Roblox is rolling out and demonstrating how brand-safe, purposeful activation on the platform is very much possible.The BBC and YouTube partnership: a front door, not a full commitment. Jo hosted the BBC and YouTube in a fireside that got unexpectedly candid. The BBC's suite of seven YouTube channels won't simply mirror their broadcast output — the strategy is promos, tactical full episodes around new series launches, and some YouTube-first commissions (including a Next Step micro-drama). The goal is to use YouTube as a gateway to iPlayer, though whether a generation raised on YouTube will follow that path remains an open question.The Sidemen are rewriting the rules on appointment viewing. Long-form content, licensed TV formats (a Family Fortunes rework pulled from Fremantle's archive got 3 million views in 24 hours), and a focus on watch time over view counts — the Sidemen's keynote at MIP London was a masterclass in how creators are evolving into something closer to TV studios, and why that matters for the future of format licensing.Despite a lot of hard truths, both events left the team with a clear impression: the people still in the room are passionate, pragmatic, and not going anywhere without a fight.

Episode Summary:In this bonus episode, Andy Williams and Emily Horgan join Eric Calderon of Surviving Animation for a candid debrief straight from the Kids Screen conference floor in San Diego. With a smaller-than-usual attendance, a shifting industry landscape, and more than a few big questions hanging in the air, the three take stock of what Kids Screen looks like now — and what it might need to become.Key Takeaways:1. Smaller crowd, better conversations. Attendee numbers were down, but the quality of conversations was up. The frantic "hard sell" energy of previous years gave way to something more honest — people asking each other how they're really doing and what they're trying next.2. The old guard model is done. The days of "what does Netflix want?" panels are over. This year's conversation centred on anime, K-pop, webtoons, Roblox, and YouTube — and crucially, the buyers in the audience were the ones taking notes.3. The audience is there. The business model isn't. Platforms like YouTube and Roblox have the kids. Nobody has quite figured out how to build a sustainable revenue model around them yet — and the group are refreshingly honest that no one left San Diego with the answer.4. Jonathan Haidt stirred the room. The keynote took a hard line against social media and called out Roblox and micro-drama sessions directly. The reaction was mixed — some applauded, some walked out. The group discuss whether a blanket ban approach is too blunt, and make the case for a more graduated, age-appropriate ladder of access instead.5. Kids Screen itself is at a crossroads. With attendance below a thousand and a move back to Miami on the horizon, the conference is grappling with an identity question: if the traditional buyer-seller marketplace no longer functions the way it used to, what is the event actually for? The group land on a compelling answer — relationship deposits. You're not closing deals, you're laying groundwork.6. Do the thing, don't just attend the session. Sitting in on a YouTube strategy panel no longer counts as a YouTube strategy. The studios generating the most excitement were the ones actually experimenting on new platforms — making mistakes, learning fast, and trying again.7. Humility is the new competitive advantage. Whether you're a veteran studio or an independent creator, approaching new platforms with curiosity rather than authority is what separates those who are adapting from those who aren't.The mood heading into 2026? Cautiously determined. As Eric puts it: stop surviving, find the fix.Let me know if you'd like to adjust the tone, length, or structure of any section.

In this special live episode, recorded at KidsScreen in San Diego, Andy and Emily take to the stage to moderate a deep-dive panel on one of the most talked-about new preschool IPs in the market right now: BeddyByes.Born out of the very relatable chaos of lockdown-era bedtimes, BeddyByes is a new show from Jam Media designed to help young children wind down — and it's been built with real intention, from the ground up. Joining Andy and Emily are John Rice, CEO of Jam Media and co-creator of the show; Richard Goldsmith, EVP of Kids and Family at Blue Ant Media, who handles worldwide distribution; and Vienna Downs, also from Blue Ant, leading consumer products and licensing.Together, they walk through the full journey of bringing BeddyByes to market — from the initial creative spark and the challenge of pitching a "bedtime show" to broadcasters, to landing deals with the BBC, RTE, Disney Junior, and Moose Toys. The panel covers the deliberate, step-by-step distribution strategy, what it really takes to build authentic consumer products around a new IP, and why owning a clear niche might just be the smartest move a brand can make right now.It's an honest, energetic conversation about what it looks like to build a franchise the right way — with great content at the centre and the right partners around the table.