The Forest From The TVs
This query has really helped me come to grips with the question, "What is TV -- REALLY?"
And doesn't TV require an audience, in fact, a mass audience, to REALLY be TV?
TV has always defined itself at the intersection of time and real estate. It's that cubby in the primary focal point of the house, in the armoire at the foot of the bed, or in the corner of the gym. But it's also a human allocation of attention to a one-way televisual communication -- one that historically generates internalized emotions, and on rare occasion, reaction.
But in each and every instance and location, the element most necessary to qualify as TV, is an audience. And as the mass audience continues to dwindle, so, too, does TV's very existence (and its definition) become less meaningful.
Despite Les Moonves' cheerleading that "the model ain't broken," TV is, at a minimum, a medium that has lost its identity by allowing itself to be too many things to too many people. What it has failed to do is to fully embrace and enable communication among its consumers, its entertainers, and its sponsors.
Beyond the abysmal state (and credibility) of its accounting and metrics, any honest student of media must acknowledge that TV is losing audience to the Internet -- the one televisual medium that provides searchable choice, intuitive transactional functionality, and perhaps most importantly, the ability for the dispersed audience to be heard, at least a little bit.
I've always contended that the single greatest opportunity we have to grow together as a country, to unite, and to learn, is to interact during the time we all spend together, alone, allowing televisual stimulation to be siphoned into our silent skulls.
Picture the bleary eyed masses in a darkened room, with the wash of flickering light glistening off the shadowed silhouettes... and virtually duct-taped mouths.
That's TV to too many people.
It's time we took off the tape, passed the interactive remote controls (the ones with thumb pads), and lifted the plastic shroud covering the little camera mounted on top of that TV monitor.
If TV is to truly regain its role, as Mike Bloxam refers to it, as the "big daddy of media," TV is going to have to allow people to react, and receive in return, AT MINIMUM, an acknowledgment that they have been heard.
A fifty cent text message voting for David Cook does not communication make.
It used to be acceptable that TV was not a two-way medium. I think that needs to change -- NOW. That limitation must be quickly addressed by the powers that be, because what ultimately defined "TV" was the "TV" device itself. With the digital-analog transition countdown now reduced to double digits, the TV will, for most people, soon become merely another "dumb" device with speakers -- a monitor with multiple inputs, for all intents and purposes. And like every other monitor we own, its usefulness is linked to the enabling hardware attached to it.
Truth be told, it's always been about the hardware. While the cable or satellite TV set top box tends to grab input A, as these monitors leave room for other connections, the threat to TV will continue to come from devices that provide for the most important input of all: CONSUMER INPUT.
The hardware device that I think is the most threatening of all is the "video game console," particularly the X-Box 360. The darn thing should come packaged in a wood veneer finish, shaped like a horse. You call it a video game console? Yeah, sure -- and Bill Gates is a great programmer.
Keep telling yourself it's a game console when you watch your first Netflix X-Box download, talk to your friends via X-Box live, or, someday in the not-too-distant-future, play an advertising-supported game show like ReacTV, competing with 10 million other connected players in the audience.
Do you see those USB ports in the front of the X-Box? See that Wi-Fi window? Recognize that removable hard drive? Ever seen coaxial and HDMI feeds anywhere else?
These are connections. Inputs. Gateways.
With real people attached to them.
You might call them "gamers." I call them an audience.