Who Killed the TV Industry?

This is a presentation I have given called “Who Killed The Industry?”.

I’m offering paid subscribers a first look at this video before releasing it publicly.

The following is a transcript from the presentation:

Today, I want to talk about a topic that might sound a bit dramatic, but it is a reality we cannot ignore: Who killed the TV industry? The entire media landscape has undergone a rapid, radical change over the past few years. As someone who has worked in television production for 20 years, I wanted to dissect what is happening and offer an honest perspective on a very sensitive subject.

This discussion is based on an article I wrote titled, Who Do I Blame for the TV Industry Crisis? It is a frank look at the forces behind the collapse of linear television and the uncomfortable truth about who is responsible. When I published that article, I received an overwhelming response. Many people wrote to me sharing heartbreaking stories about their livelihoods, some agreed with my stance, and others challenged my views. Getting that broad perspective has been invaluable.

To understand how we got here, we have to look back at the past. For decades, broadcast television was the dominant force in media and a central pillar of our shared monoculture. If you worked in the industry back then, there was stable commissioning and a constant stream of shows. I had friends who could write an idea on the back of a cigarette pack, pitch it, and get a commission just like that.

Viewing was scheduled, meaning everyone watched the same programs at the same time. Depending on the era you look at in the UK, there were only a couple of channels, which later expanded to include ITV, Channel 4, and Channel 5. Some households eventually got Sky, but there was no on-demand viewing, no Netflix, and no streaming. While videotape technology arrived in the 1980s allowing people to record programs, you generally still had to be present at a specific time to experience a show.

Because of this, television created a thriving, shared ecosystem. The next morning, everyone would walk into the office and gather to talk about what they watched the night before. This is exactly where the term “water cooler moment” comes from. I remember experiencing this as a kid in school when absolutely everyone was watching Red Dwarf, South Park, or The Simpsons.

The industry itself was also structured very differently. It was heavily unionized. In the 1970s and 1980s, if you wanted a job in TV, you had to go through the union. Over time, the landscape shifted toward freelance labor. I used to hold a full-time, salaried staff position at a production company, but after that company dissolved, I became a freelancer. Today, that is the reality for most people in the business. The vast majority of television work is project-based, and secure payroll positions are incredibly hard to find. The robust industry infrastructure of the past has diminished, leaving behind a shadow of its former self.

When I first entered television production two years ago, local television was already disappearing as networks shifted their focus toward competing for national commissions. Securing a greenlight for a show required an incredibly thick skin. Production teams would endlessly churn out program ideas, advance through multiple rounds of network meetings, and then see the project evaporate because an executive left the network or the funding fell through. Even then, the signs of decline were visible, and advertisers were beginning to pull back.

Around 15 years ago, a mentor of mine who was retiring in his 60s gave me some advice. He noted that while his generation would always watch television the traditional way, tuning into the standard broadcast channels in the evening, younger audiences were already migrating to different formats. At that point, Netflix was on the rise, and platforms like YouTube, Twitch, and live streaming were emerging.

At the time, many traditional television executives dismissed online media as “just internet stuff” that was not mainstream. To be fair, 15 years ago, the technology was not as seamless. Smart TVs and devices like Apple TV existed, but they were not yet ubiquitous. If my friends wanted to watch YouTube on a television screen, they had to physically plug their laptop into the monitor with a cable. There was still technical friction.

Because of that friction, a certain level of elitism persisted within traditional TV companies. The prevailing attitude was, “We make what the viewer actually watches; we define the culture.” That sense of authority has steadily evaporated. Younger generations now expect everything to be online, on-demand, and fragmented. Audiences watch exactly what they want, when they want, and how they want.

This structural shift moved us rapidly from scheduled broadcasts to an era of hyper-abundant streaming. Audiences now stack subscriptions across Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime, and HBO, alongside massive consumption of YouTube.

However, the most significant shift in recent years is the role of the algorithm. A few years ago, data tracking was less granular. Today, algorithms understand your viewing history and preferences better than you do, constantly serving up personalized recommendations.

On short-form video platforms like TikTok, audiences receive dopamine on demand. The algorithm measures how fast you swipe to instantly calculate what you like and dislike, building a completely bespoke feed. Instead of human executives curating content for a mass audience, software curates content for the individual.

This algorithmic curation is a double-edged sword. On the positive side, you can access highly niche, relevant content instantly. On the negative side, it creates echo chambers, particularly around current affairs and politics, and strips away our shared cultural experiences.

Excluding public broadcasters like the BBC for a moment, the traditional television business model depended entirely on mass audiences and advertising revenue. Historically, companies paid top dollar for prime-time commercial slots. Local television was funded heavily by local businesses.

As personalized algorithms developed, advertisers realized that digital platforms offered much better targeting. If a company wants to sell toothpaste formulated for sensitive teeth to an older demographic, a traditional television commercial acts like a “spray and pray” method, expensive airtime broadcast to a mass audience in the hope of hitting the right demographic. Digital advertising allows companies to push that budget directly through a marketing funnel to the exact consumer who needs the product.

As advertising budgets migrated to digital platforms, funding for traditional programming began to dry up. This is a critical loss because those commercial revenues directly fund high-end dramas, daily news broadcasts, and industry jobs.

Furthermore, audience attention spans have fragmented. Viewers routinely hit the skip button, swipe away from ads, or split their focus across multiple devices. When you watch a screen today, you might simultaneously be looking at your phone, playing a game, or listening to a podcast. Capturing full attention for a sustained period is increasingly difficult.

Public models face their own crises. In the UK, the BBC is funded by the TV license fee, which is legally required to watch any live broadcast television. However, growing numbers of viewers are moving strictly to on-demand streaming platforms where the license fee does not apply, leading to a drop in funding. Coupled with inflation, production costs have soared while resources have dwindled. To survive, networks are forced to scale back, cutting series orders from 12 episodes down to six, or canceling shows entirely just to keep operations running.

The industry then encountered a massive destabilization during the COVID-19 pandemic. At the start of the lockdowns, production went completely blank. The company I was working for was scheduled to shoot a show in Italy, but the very day the research team was set to fly out, Italy initiated its national lockdown.

The initial shutdown killed many businesses, including the production company where I worked. At the time, I was working in a studio as an audio mixer and managing post-production. In the early days, there was an immense amount of fear surrounding basic operations like recording voiceovers, which required putting people into small, confined booths.

As a result, a massive amount of traditional work was canceled. Production quality took a backseat to safety, and broadcast television became dominated by low-resolution Zoom calls.

By the summer of 2021 and into 2022, regulations began to lift, and networks found ways to get crews back on location safely using strict production bubbles and dedicated COVID safety officers. Because audiences had spent over a year at home consuming every available piece of content on television, networks faced an immediate shortage of material. The industry entered an unprecedented boom period.

By 2022, production exploded. I was turning down work for the first time in my career because the demand for freelancers was overwhelming. I worked on series where I was one of the only available specialists in the country because everyone was at full capacity. Production companies could not find enough edit suites, camera operators, or post-production staff. Broadcasters were buying everything they could get their hands on.

Unfortunately, this boom created a bubble. By 2023 and 2024, macro-economic factors like inflation and global instability caused advertising budgets to contract again. Broadcasters realized they had commissioned a massive backlog of content that was still sitting on the shelf ready to go.

The industry swung violently from famine to feast, and back to famine. Because networks had enough accumulated content to sustain their schedules, commissioning ground to a sudden halt. Freelancers suddenly found themselves facing a severe drought of work.

As of mid-2026, the television industry remains in a difficult position. The recent Hollywood actors’ and writers’ strikes halted numerous major dramas and caused widespread concern over long-term livelihoods. While those disputes reached resolutions, the prolonged production halts created a severe knock-on effect across global supply chains.

Today, commissioning is drastically reduced, budgets are tight, and crews are expected to do much more for less money. Many established production companies have closed their doors because the traditional financial model is no longer sustainable without mass audiences and massive linear budgets.

This contraction has deeply impacted the freelance community across both production and post-production. Award-winning directors and highly skilled technicians are facing extended periods of unemployment, with many forced to leave the business entirely. It is heartbreaking to see an industry change so rapidly.

When asking who killed traditional television, the uncomfortable answer is: we did. The audience killed it.

Audiences walked away from broadcast television not necessarily because the quality dropped, but because alternative platforms offered unprecedented convenience, choice, and authenticity. Personally, I find myself deeply entertained by niche content on YouTube, whether it is an independent creator reviewing historic military rations in his kitchen, or creators discussing gaming and politics.

All you need today to create television is a smartphone and an internet connection. The television screen in the corner of the room has largely been relegated to a background display for cooking or casual viewing, while primary attention has shifted to short-form media, podcasts, and gaming.

As media professionals, we can complain about the decline of the traditional ecosystem, but we must acknowledge that our own changing habits as consumers helped drive this transition.

Despite these challenges, there is cause for hope. Audiences will always crave exceptional storytelling, high-quality production, and factual documentaries. The market for great content will persist, even if the traditional distribution models change.

While the classic golden era of linear television has passed, we have entered a new era where anyone can create authentic content, bypass traditional gatekeepers, and connect directly with a global audience.

The next major technological shift is the integration of artificial intelligence. However, even in an automated age, audiences will continue to seek out authentic, human-to-human creativity and connection.

The media industry is not disappearing; it is evolving. Technology has permanently altered how content is produced, distributed, and discovered through algorithms. Audiences have changed, and viewing habits will not revert to the past. Adaptation is mandatory. While it is natural to feel nostalgic for the structure of the old industry, the future open ecosystem offers incredible opportunities to tell stories and communicate in entirely new ways.