In this period, “lifestyle” emerged as the watchword and cable channels differentiated themselves from one another through a focus on smaller, more specific audience demographics.
This reflects the importance of "lifestyle" in television branding during the multi-channel transition, where networks no longer aimed at a broad national audience but sought to serve more specialized, niche groups, creating a unique identity for each channel.
Television’s focus on niche audiences at the time was not only about counting and creating specific viewer demographics. Branding and targeted audiences also grew out of broader socioeconomic conditions.
This highlights the shift in television strategy during the 1980s and 1990s, where networks began focusing on creating more tailored content for smaller, specific groups rather than trying to appeal to a broad audience. This is part of a larger trend in marketing and media toward segmentation.
Even with the election of Democratic President Bill Clinton in 1992, deregulation remained the modus operandi of the federal administration. In fact, under Clinton, the deregulatory moves of the multi‐channel era culminated in the Telecommunications Act of 1996, which was the first significant reform of the Communications Act of 1934 and marked a dramatic shift in the industry as a whole.
So even when a Democrat like Clinton was president, they still pushed deregulation even harder? Wasn’t the whole point of earlier rules to stop big companies from owning everything? How is it supposed to lead to more “diversity and innovation” if just a few giant media companies like FOX’s News Corp. get to own a bunch of TV channels, cable systems, and even phone companies?
Describing Fowler, Kunz writes, “He preached the merits of the marketplace, and argued that the ‘public interest’ is whatever the public wants, and the market should be the judge of that” (Kunz 2006: 63). For Fowler, and the Reagan Administration more broadly, public interest was synonymous with private interest and citizens were viewed as consumers above all else.
are they saying that during the Reagan era, people in charge—like Mark Fowler at the FCC—thought TV didn’t need to serve the public or educate people, but just give them what they wanted as customers? And how does turning viewers into just “consumers” change the kind of shows that get made? Shouldn’t public interest mean more than just making money?
In 1986, the cover of the Hartford Courant featured a cartoon‐style graphic depicting the shrinking network television audience between 1979 and 1985 in three pie charts framed inside TV sets with antennae (Campbell 1986). T
So, in the 1980s and 1990s, TV started to change a lot—people had more channels, VCRs to record shows, and new rules that shook things up. The big three networks (ABC, NBC, CBS) started losing viewers, and that gave FOX a chance to rise by making bold, edgy shows that spoke to younger and more diverse audiences. But once FOX got bigger, they shifted their focus to mainly white, male viewers to make more money.
Why did having more channels and freedom make it harder for the original networks to keep their audience? And why would FOX leave behind the same people who helped them grow in the first place?
A full-scale traditional service with a broad range of largely original programming seems to require at least 10 million homes on a regular basis. The fewer the homes, the more repeats and imported programs. Half a million readers of a magazine such as Guns and Ammo are simply too few to produce television revenues at a sufficient level for Guns and Ammo programming with acceptable production values.
This means that to make enough money to support a big, high-quality TV channel with lots of original shows (like a regular network), at least 10 million households need to be watching regularly. Without that many viewers, the channel won’t earn enough through ads or subscriptions to afford making expensive new shows. That’s why smaller, niche channels often have to rely on reruns or cheaper imported content—they just don’t have the budget to make new shows all the time.
The earliest video-technologies, the Sony Portapak and other cheap (by broadcasting standards) equipment, were being made the basis of a call for a more democratic television culture. This was especially strong in Canada where an entire programme of the National Film Board (Challege for Change/ Pour une société nouvelle) was transformed from a documentary film-making project into a Portapak citizens-as-videomakers project instead.
New, affordable video recording tools—like the Sony Portapak—made it possible for regular people (not just big media companies) to create and share their own TV content. This helped start a movement where more voices and communities could be represented on television. It was seen as a way to make TV fairer and more accessible to everyone, not just controlled by large corporations or the government.
The cable company was more like an ordinary viewer than a television station.2 Clearly the disruptive potential of the cable industry was not going to be contained by law.
The courts didn’t see cable companies as creators or broadcasters of content—they saw them as more like regular people just watching TV. Since they were just passing along the signal rather than creating it, they weren’t breaking copyright laws the same way a station might. This helped cable companies grow at first because the law didn’t stop them from re-sharing shows, even though it made traditional broadcasters nervous.
Cable was massively aided by this marketplace approach to broadcasting. The move to colour also helped. Poor reception of VHF black-and-white in built-up urban areas meant ghosting on the picture.
Cable television got a big boost because of how the U.S. handled TV as a business focused on making money. The government gave better TV access to big cities, where advertisers could reach more people, and left many smaller or rural areas with very few channels. Since a lot of people couldn't get good TV signals—especially with the switch to color—cable became a helpful solution for getting better quality and more channels.
Cable has stood ready to supplant broadcasting from the very beginning of both radio and television; its failure so to is a further vivid example of the operation of the ‘law’ of the suppression of radical potential.
This sentence is saying that cable technology was always good enough to replace traditional radio and TV broadcasts, even from the start. But it didn’t happen—not because the technology wasn’t ready, but because powerful groups didn’t want it to. The author is pointing out how new, game-changing ideas or inventions often get blocked because they could shake up the way things already work or threaten people in charge.
Sometimes that person has multiple roles in front of and behind the camera, as does 30 Rock star, actor, writer, and producer Tina Fey.
This got me thinking about "one-man" bands ... which I think it's so interesting how, nowadays, there aren't many one-person shows.
The success of Lucy was a rare story, but it did mirror the general success of television: audiences craved great storytelling, and these makers of all different forms of popular entertainment—radio, film, and theater—who had been so talented in their original medium, turned their attention to television and together developed content that appealed to the new, and rapidly increasing, television audience.
I remember first watching "I Love Lucy" in my freshman year of high school and I have come across it at least 3 separate times in my academic career since then. I think it is interesting how much you can learn not only from the show but also from how the show was made. This show is so versatile with all the different lessons and things it could show its audience. It makes sense why it is not only so widely known but also enjoyed.
The easy answer would be to point to star Lucille Ball.
Ah I see .. so a showrunner doesn't have to just be what was listed, but rather can be anyone .... I wonder if even an influencer that promotes a certain tv show or film could be accredited to be a "showrunner" ... is it more than just making the show garner attention or is it including behind the scenes stuff too? do people who run behind the scenes but aren't talked about still get that showrunner role/credit?
If Lucy was a contemporary series, it is quite likely we would be ascribing its success to a particular person: the series showrunner, heralding this person (or in some instances, persons) as a brilliant leader, technician, author, and, perhaps, creator.
I beg to differ- I feel as though if "I Love Lucy" was a contemporary series, I believe that the success of the show would be attributed to the actors rather than those behind the scenes. I feel like enjoying those behind the scenes and their hard work is not common these days and people tend to care about WHO is on the screen rather than the one who is presenting what is on the screen as a form of their own artwork and passion.
Less well-known is how I Love Lucy also, in a manner of speaking, gave birth to a role in television pro- duction that, while commonplace in Hollywood today, was surprisingly controversial at the time: the “hyphenate” writer-producer.
The development of the "hyphenate" writer-producer (described as one that creates and produces television content) is an under appreciated but important influence of I Love Lucy that is highlighted in this sentence. This was controversial at the time of the episode because television production was still developing and industry specialists were usually limited to certain jobs and not very versatile.
Students of history find their experience directly relevant to jobs in a variety of careers as well as to further study in fields like law and public administration. Employers often deliberately seek students with the kinds of capacities historical study promotes.
this highlights how studying history can foster a bigger viewpoint that can be regarded in a variety of professional environments. According to the text, studying history gives students an ability that applies to a variety of professions. It stimulates analysis and critical thinking. Historical study is a useful and adaptable basis for career success because of its wide range of viewpoints. It enables people to handle challenging issues and adapt to changing work environments.
Learning how to identify and evaluate conflicting interpretations is an essential citizenship skill for which history, as an often-contested laboratory of human experience, provides training.
This statement emphasized an important role of history by developing the ability to understand and evaluate various historical viewpoints. By characterizing history as a “contested laboratory of human experience”, the author implies that studying history can provide a dynamic setting for practicing assessing opposing viewpoints. This is presented as being a crucial part for both comprehending the past and participating in new social and political discussions.
Historical data include evidence about how families, groups, institutions and whole countries were formed and about how they have evolved while retaining cohesion.
By demonstrating how history can be a receipt to prove the creation and development of social groups over time, the statement highlights the importance of history in a way of defining identity. The phrase “retaining cohesion” implies that history not only clarifies continuity but also explains a bout of change, by assisting people in comprehending how they have remained united in the face of change. This illustrates the importance of history in helping families, communities, and countries develop a feeling of identity and belonging.
Consequently, history must serve, however imperfectly, as our laboratory, and data from the past must serve as our most vital evidence in the unavoidable quest to figure out why our complex species behaves as it does in societal settings.
This quote frames history as a “laboratory” where historical events can serve as a space for analysis. It presents as a crucial instrument for understanding human behavior and how they function in society. The writer points out the shortcomings of history while simultaneously arguing for its important function in the study of vast phenomena that can not be duplicated or tested through experimentation. This viewpoint supports the belief that historical analysis is an essential piece for producing insights into how society operates and goes through current live events.
History should be studied because it is essential to individuals and to society, and because it harbors beauty. There are many ways to discuss the real functions of the subject—as there are many different historical talents and manydifferent paths to historical meaning. All definitions of history's utility, however, rely on two fundamental facts.
This highlights a certain significance in history, which is its inherent appeal and how it is useful to people in society. By calling history “essential”, the author emphasizes the importance of preserving collective memory and knowledge. The saying that history “harbors beauty” draws attention to the intellectual and emotional satisfaction that comes from understanding past human experiences, connections, and stories. By appealing to not only reason, but also passion, this framing expands on the argument for studying history beyond its usefulness.
Borders and identities—these are the stuff of nations. And so they are the stuff of history. Equally, they are the stuff of broadcasting.
This establishes a clear link between the social and physical historical significance of the formation of national identity. It emphasizes how these identities and hierarchies are shaped and maintained in large by the media, especially Television Broadcasting. It highlights broadcasting's role in forming and breaking social norms and structures by classifying it as an important part of cultural discussions, which mirrors a larger dynamic of history and nationalism.
By featuring families such as these—and only families such as these, excluding working-class, non-white, and non-traditional families—such programs seemed to claim that this was how Americans just naturally were. (If not, something was wrong with them.)
The author notes the exclusive aspect of media depictions from the 1950s and 1960s, which marginalized realities while presenting a perfect representation of American society. Specifically, TV shows can effectively erase the experiences of working-class, non-white, and non-traditional households by portraying wealthy, white, suburban-living families. This creates an impression that these types of lives were the norm. Additionally, supporting consumerist values and being in line with economic demands shows that this tactic promoted limited, but often unachievable social norms that ran opposed to the realities faced by many Americans.
Yet, we the audience are not powerless in this media megalith.
The author highlights that an audience for any chosen medium actively chooses and interprets messages based on their own core values and life experiences. This can also emphasize the audience's power in navigating different types of media. While media creators have a lot of power, viewers can still have the power to reject, reframe, and oppose more popular notions. This lays the groundwork for a sophisticated comprehension of the power that the relationship between producers of media and consumers.
I don’t pretend that our role is equal; as the author, I have obviously set the ground rules and laid out the field of play. And I won’t deny—as you may not either—that who I am as a person plays an important role in the choices I have made:
With the author being in charge of the way the story goes, they acknowledge the inherent power dynamic between the author and the reader. This authority emphasizes how biased historical writing can be and how even non-biased reports are influenced by personal choice. By recognizing this imbalance, the author asks the readers to question and strengthen the story with their own interpretations and viewpoints on life. I personally think this take is interesting as I haven't taken in this power imbalance before.
This ambiguity at the heart of progress—the push–pull tension that says as one thing is gained, another might very well be lost—forms the core of Forster’s vision in Howards End and also informs the history of broadcasting in our century.
The duality of progress shows the complicated link between media progress and its unintended effects.
Forster opens the book with the phrase “Only connect …” above the first paragraph, and the process of making connections—between actions and their outcomes, between rich and poor, between the past and the present—creates all manner of problems for the characters.
The novel's focus on broken connections informs broadcasting history and metaphorically represents societal challenges during rapid change.