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The new media landscape is opening doors to new content, but it’s also closing the doors to important content that minority audiences need.
We all know how much the rise of streaming has changed the way we interact with and consume entertainment. It has also caused a seismic shift in content producers’ approach to production and distribution. Networks used to allow their shows time to develop creatively and grow their audience. For example, Seinfeld launched with relatively poor ratings during its inaugural season, but the network gave it time it to build an audience, eventually becoming an era-defining TV phenomenon still influential to this day.
Those days are long gone. Digital video is the preferred method for Americans to access TV content, with more than 55 percent of US consumers having “cut the cord” [to cable] by the end of 2022, according to eMarketer.
It’s easy to forget that streaming services offering original content have only been around for about a decade. During this time, they have evolved from content distributors to data hoarders. They collect and analyze information about their users’ content consumption habits and are ruthless in cancelling shows that do not catch on immediately, often not even allowing some months to develop a following via word of mouth.
This is not a new or relatively recent phenomenon. Even prior to streaming, fierce competition and fragmentation took their toll on linear networks, which learned to rely on cheap, quick, and outrageous reality TV to deliver rapid ratings—leading to the Reality Era and the subsequent dumbing down of TV content.
“Low-income and underprivileged audiences who can’t afford several streaming subscriptions, high speed internet, and the devices to watch this content are being left behind in the technological race, and thus less content useful to them is being produced.”
Diego Lastra
These days, from a producers’ perspective, the most important thing is to quickly capture as many eyeballs as possible—extremely challenging in a world where audiences flock to thirty-second TikToks created by anyone with a smartphone.
There are still truly good shows being produced by networks, but as more and more people cut the cord and shift 100 percent to streaming, it becomes less likely these shows will find a large audience rapidly enough to justify the long-term investment.
It’s not all bad though. The surplus of options to distribute content and cheaper production costs afforded by modern technology can allow for more diverse casts and taking greater creative risks, allowing for shows that would have been unimaginable on network TV for being too niche. This helps create opportunities that simply did not exist before, for unheard voices and viewers who never saw themselves represented as protagonists.
Given the savage war for viewers’ eyeballs and massive audience fragmentation, the big players are relying on their resources to finance massive productions to try to capture and retain viewers and the all-important subscription fees via shows like House of the Dragon or Stranger Things. Quality still tends to rise to the top—shows like Better Call Saul are highly revered by critics, audiences, and producers alike. For diverse audiences, they can find quality content that reflects their culture and represents them. In many ways, we are living in a golden era of television.
But ultimately, a show’s success is measured in ROI, whether in the form of new subscribers or advertising dollars. This not only impacts the ability of smaller content producers to develop content for diverse audiences with a smaller footprint, but also leads to underserved audiences being left out. Low-income and underprivileged audiences who can’t afford several streaming subscriptions, high speed internet, and the devices to watch this content are being left behind in the technological race, and thus less content useful to them is being produced.
Nielsen and linear TV stations struggle to measure audiences when relatively few people still consume content via broadcast. These viewers tend to be older and less affluent, and they often belong to minority groups. Without sizeable audience numbers, these stations struggle to sell advertising space. Without advertising dollars, it becomes increasingly difficult to produce content and community-oriented programming. Stations are forced to air reruns or import low-cost, low-quality content to minimize costs while trying to retain their audience.
“It is great to have more diversity representation in mainstream shows and to see casts that better reflect our society. But does this content speak to minority communities and their needs?”
Diego Lastra
In a world where advertisers demand real-time data and extremely efficient media buys, there’s no way to sustain a linear TV network reaching underrepresented audiences, however large (US Hispanics represent $2.5 trillion in buying power, according to Adweek). This translates into less useful content being produced for them. You could argue that someone will find a way to reach them via digital platforms, but the reality of modern media means that it will always be easier and more lucrative to aim for a homogenized audience.
It is great to have more diversity representation in mainstream shows and to see casts that better reflect our society. But does this content speak to minority communities and their needs?
In other words, we may be reverting to the network TV paradigm, with underserved communities and minority audiences becoming more “media disenfranchised.”
Take the example of Azteca America. The free-to-air television network, which launched in 2001, struggled to compete with much larger Spanish language rivals Univision and Telemundo. Yet Azteca occupied an important space in its viewers’ lives. It provided an easy, relatively cheap way for local advertisers and social programs to communicate with a mostly first-generation, Spanish speaking, generally less affluent audience—which is still quite valuable for many brands and organizations.
Azteca’s shows often featured segments informing viewers of local events, community happenings, and guests to answer questions on education, immigration, insurance, banking, worker rights, and other subjects of great importance to immigrants. There was real value to the community in this content.
It had a loyal audience whose existence was difficult to prove without expensive ratings measurement. And without ratings, advertising space had to be sold at extremely low prices, while agencies and brands preferred to invest where they could measure results.
Azteca ceased operations on December 31, 2022. And while the network’s demise has largely gone unremarked, its bigger peers aren’t safe either, as it has proved difficult to reliably figure out a way to balance the broadcast side with the transition to streaming.
This is not limited to Spanish TV networks—it affects all smaller minority content producers and distributors across all media. It is very difficult to survive the onslaught of always-on digital content.
One way to address this imbalance would be to require larger streaming providers to dedicate a small percentage of their space to create this type of community-oriented content and make it freely available online, like local channels used to dedicate airtime for community shows or cable television providers offered public-access channels.
Ultimately, the disappearance of these minority targeting media outlets mirrors the inequities of life. It is difficult to escape a vicious circle where lack of results leads to diminishing resources for the people who need them the most and an excess of content and resources for others.
The streaming giants should pay attention not just to the bottom line but also their social responsibility to offer relevant and useful content for everyone, including underserved audiences. As data dominates marketing and artificial intelligence begins to automate where advertising dollars are placed, we need to remember the humans behind the screens.
Diego Lastra is the associate media director at Dieste.
