The power of industry gatekeepers lies in saying 'no,' which makes them feel important but stifles creativity. This risk aversion leads to a homogenous media landscape filled with copies and sequels, while truly innovative, independent projects are denied a platform.
Hollywood's current crisis is self-inflicted, stemming from a decades-long failure to adapt its business models and economics. Instead of innovating to compete with tech-driven services like Netflix, the industry persisted with inefficient structures and is now blaming disruptors for inevitable consumer-driven changes.
Unlike the tech industry's forward-looking nostalgia, Hollywood's culture is rooted in preserving traditional filmmaking processes. This cultural attachment makes the creative community view AI not just as a job threat, but as an unwelcome disruption to the established craft and order, slowing its adoption as a creative tool.
Companies like Nintendo and bands like Radiohead achieved longevity by pursuing their own vision, even when it contradicted what their fans wanted. This willingness to alienate the current audience is a key, albeit risky, path to true innovation and creating cult classics.
Even though anyone can create media, legacy brands like The New York Times retain immense power. Their established brands are perceived by the public as more authoritative and trustworthy, giving them a 'monopoly on truth' that new creators lack.
As AI drives the cost of content creation to zero, the world floods with 'average' material. In this environment, the most valuable and scarce skill becomes 'taste'—the ability to identify, curate, and champion high-quality, commercially viable work. This elevates the role of human curators over pure creators.
Imposing strict constraints on a creative process isn't a hindrance; it forces innovation in the remaining, more crucial variables like message and resonance. By limiting degrees of freedom, you are forced to excel in the areas that matter most, leading to more potent output.
The perception of cultural stagnation is flawed. While mainstream blockbusters may be worse, the overall quality and variety of culture (e.g., global cinema) is stronger than ever. Pundits miss this because quality has shifted from a shared monoculture to numerous high-quality niches that require active discovery.
The traditional client service model is flawed because it forces ambitious creatives to seek approval from clients who often have lower creative standards and care less about the outcome. This dynamic inherently limits the potential of the work.
The creative industry is harming itself more through internal cynicism and inaction than from external threats like AI. Creatives spend too much time writing thought pieces about a perceived decline instead of actively making groundbreaking work.
The entertainment industry's resentment towards Netflix is misplaced. Swisher argues that studios are in decline because they failed to modernize, lean into technology, and listen to consumers. Netflix simply capitalized on the industry's inefficient and outdated business models by building a product people wanted.