The End of the Hollywood Operating System

Why the World Is Done with the McDonaldisation of the TV Industry

Turn on any TV set around the world and for sure you will be served to a smaller or larger extend some form of US TV formats. Wherever you go, you can be sure to discover the same menu. For the past half century the ‘McDonaldisation’ of TV took place on a global scale. Similarly to encountering the golden M arch in remote places anywhere on the world map, you will be able to watch a US show or series on a local screen. Hollywood is dishing out mass fare and feeds video fast food from Alberta to Zuerich – and its marketing machine makes us believe we are loving it.

Hollywood and the US TV enterprises served us a global drive-thru menu of cultural consumption: pre-wrapped stories with universal seasoning, no substitutions allowed. Like a franchised meal deal, the expectation was that everyone, everywhere, would gladly order the same combo.

Their export of content came also with the – assumed – confidence that the Hollywood model works everywhere. Doing business the US way became the standard ‘operating system’ of the industry and perpuated the assurance that it is the only way to succeed, the only path to be taken. Or better: the fully pre-packaged cultural operating system is a kind of all-American software update for the rest of the world’s screens, hardwired with the belief that if it didn’t come from L.A., it didn’t really matter.

You know the drill: Big studio logo. Big pitch deck. Big white teeth. And then with a natural, often robotic confidence and showboat aflair  the implication that we all please sit down, open our market, and listen carefully what the masters of the TV universe have to teach us.

For a long time, we obliged and many of us admired them, their beautiful presentation decks and impressive productions.

We did so, not necessarily because we believed in it, but because there wasn’t much choice. It worked. It sold. It came with mythologies, ratings logic, and Emmy-glazed legitimacy. Like fast food: you know it’s not the best, but it’s there, it’s convenient, and everyone seems to be eating it.

The Shift in Global Appetite

But something is shifting since some time. The world is quietly pushing away the tray, looking at that same burger combo and thinking: surely, there’s more on the menu than this?

The global appetite is changing: slowly, but steadily and irreversibly. People are discovering that the stories they grew up with – the ones cooked in their own languages, with their own spices, characters, and contradictions – are not just edible alternatives. They are rich,  layered, fiercely local feasts. Meals that carry the aroma of lived experience. Stews of complexity. Dishes with diverse ingredients and names you can’t pronounce-  but all full of unique flavors you will not forget.

Meanwhile, Hollywood’s all-in-one cultural combo is beginning to taste like what it really is: bland. Think heat-lamp fries next to your grandmother’s hand-folded dumplings. Yet this is not a cooking contest (as much as the typical US mogul would love to make you believe it is all a combatitive jungle out there).  It is not that people hate fast food; it has it rightful place. It is just that we are all  realizing it does not taste and feel like home.

Home-made cooking (to stay in the image) is becoming popular and much cheerished around the world. Audiences to not turn away US fast food out of anger. It is not even out of rebellion. It is often purely out of fatigue. A kind of global eye-roll that says: “Thanks, but we’ve got something cooking here too.” People fall in love with their local taste and with other flavors from around the world that please their senses and emotions.

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The Four Ms — Unplugging the System

The world is not turning their back to the USA because they are literally fed up (okay, admittently some are) but because the buffet has now more to offer. Audiences and industry professionals grow tired of the US dominance at large of the industry and have started to discover that this industry has more to over. We find out that we do not need to follow always the US playbook and our own models and approaches might work just as well – if not even better.

The Hollywood OS has been THE model that noone questioned and that everyone tried to copy. But this model has now come to its limits, it is end of updates that work. It is meeting its experation date.

I like to unpack the reasons now below and call them the “Four M” of the end of US dominace in the TV industry.

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1. Monoculture vs. Multiculture

Remember when knowing “Friends” or “The Simpsons” was your entry ticket into international dinner party small talk? That time is over and gladly the era of nice dinner parties at all (where have all those lovely and inspiring long conversations with a bottle of wine at the dinner table gone?)

People expect more from entertainment than just getting something in their stomach. They are looking for resonance and relevance. And that is now more often served from local content and a content buffet that has grown to be more diverse than what you find in the Big M menu.

These days, it is “Squid Games” from Korea, “Dark” from Germany, “The Bridge” from Denmark, and “Lupin” from France. Not only are these shows pulling huge numbers locally, but they’re also finding deeply loyal audiences across borders – it does not need a Brooklyn loft or an American high schoon in it to be a success.

Most people don not dream in “American” anymore. They dream in their own language and dialect that feels more emotionally, politically and structurally connected and relevant to them.

And the numbers back it up. Since 2022, non-English shows made up more than half of Netflix’s global top 10 and the number is increasing. Turkish drama exports reached over 150 countries. Spanish language content from Latin America is finally moving beyond diaspora niches. It is not a revolutionary development, more of a subtle seismic shift – and becoming a market reality.

Multiculture is more than a trend. It is a manifestation of the deep-rooted desire to belong and to be yourself. A reclaiming of the kitchen after years of being told your ingredients were not quite right.

And when given the choice between a reheated studio product and something that speaks your language – literally and emotionally – people are increasingly choosing the latter.

Because when the buffet finally opens, who keeps choosing the same plastic-wrapped burger?

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2. Moguldom vs. Market Relevance

Let us now talk about my favorite animal in the TV industry zoo: the US Mogul. That old-school swagger where someone flies in from LA, stares out over Berlin or Madrid like it is some exotic frontier, and says: “We’ve got a playbook that works.”

Sure you do.

I have personally watched a team of U.S. execs bungle a top-tier meeting because – and I wish I were joking – their delegation leader had never been outside the United States and didn’t yet have a passport. When they finally arrived, they held a breakfast briefing, told the local team to stay behind, and bombed their solo meeting with a national broadcaster’s CEO. That CEO later called me and said, “If these cowboys ever set foot in my office again, you’re out.”

Or take the time a deal with a public broadcaster – an institution with massive national reach and impeccable trust – was shut down by a VP in New York. Why? Because someone in the boardroom had a college buddy who vaguely remembered reading a blog that said public broadcasters were “ideologically biased.” That’s how real-world opportunities vanish: anecdotal ignorance packaged as global strategy.

At the same time, local players are creating thriving ecosystems of their own. Take GloboPlay in Brazil, Shahid in the Middle East, or Viaplay in Scandinavia. They are not sitting around waiting for approval from some faraway industry gatekeeper. They are actively seeking partners who truly understand their markets, their audiences, and their context. And the truth is, those partners are less and less likely to be wearing Hollywood badges. Instead, they are people and teams willing to listen, adapt, and bring something meaningful to the table.

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3. Model & Metrics vs. Meaningful Measures

I have always been a bit sceptical about all this cult around metrics. They have their benefits, of course: yet they are only great until they are not. Being too focused on metrics is like looking at the map and not at the real landscape. Maps can deceived and distort – walking the unchartered territory does not. Reality hits you hard sometimes.

I once attended a so-called “visionary dinner” during a big international TV market. The invite promised ‘the brightest minds shaping global television.’ Sounds promising, right? Except it felt more like a reunion of American high school debate champions who’d grown up to sell data dashboards. Out of 20 people, 16 were from the U.S., and two of the rest worked for U.S. firms.

They didn’t discuss audiences. They didn’t mention local nuances, cultural meaning, or context. They discussed their market conquests like colonial officers charting trade routes. It was a pissing contest disguised as a panel. One exec bragged about ‘cracking Brazil’ with a true-crime show that nobody in Brazil had actually watched; albeit, the subtitles tested well in Kansas.

The table nodded. Glasses clinked. I smiled politely and ordered a second drink. It was less a conversation, more a spreadsheet-waving contest.

Nobody talked about the real pain points or admited failure. Nobody dared to say that they do not know the answer and that this uncertainty in the industry is sometimes scary. Nobody mentioned emotion or trusting your intuition and instinct. Nobody talked audiences and how diverse they are across the world and often inside of single markets. Nobody seemed to care about the people for whom we make television. All they cared was themselves and their super efficient methods and great data tables. They did not want to know what people think in Istanbul, Capetown or Tokyo; there point of reference was how many watched The Simpson in any given market. There was no reflection on the very real cultural and political contexts that shape how audiences choose content, and how US model work or how they don’t. No room for questioning the metrics.

In contract, in Sweden, SVT tracks trust and social cohesion. In parts of Africa, WhatsApp-based community distribution outpaces linear ratings. These might sound like fringe cases but they are signals that a more nuanced approach will look at. It is your role as a TV executive to acknowledge this diversity in markets and use them as strength  – not as something to crack or fit into your standard cookie cutter metric. Good television was almost always born out of a creative spirit that first and foremost followed instinct and this gut feeling that it will resonate with the relevant audience. You must look beyond numbers and statistics for that.

If your KPI doesn’t reflect real-world meaning, maybe it is not that key after all.

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4. Message vs. Meaning

The old U.S. content model was simple: broadcast a big message, preferably one involving heroic individualism, a love triangle, and some tasteful flag imagery.

And you know what? It worked. For decades. We all watched it and lived by it in our routine of managing TV.

But that is no longer enough. Especially when the message is delivered in one voice, with one accent, from one kind of lived experience and then expected to resonate universally.

People these days are growing tired of platitudes. The full hypcrisy of the ‘American Dream’ and the messages in almost all US produced content is on full display: what happened to that message in each TV series that you should stand up to the bully? Well, turn on the news and you can witness how quickly that message has lost its credibility in the face of standing up against the Orange Emperor.

Audience around the world know that life is not always a success story, that you sometimes be in a mess. Stories that are more authentic and show participation and reprsentation are closer to the heart. They want mess. People love the broken as much as the beautiful, and most of all they love the culturally-specific truth.

From Hungary to Argentina, audiences are turning to shows that reflect them and their messiness, their tension, their contradictions. People care for stories that are relevant to them and their life’s realities. That is relevance.

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Netflix as Post-American Prototype

I am big fan of Netflix: both as a consumer and as a TV industry expert. I often us them as a positive example in how they manage to succeed in this industry. Of course,  Netflix is not perfect. Sometimes, their content feels like it has been put together by a panel of hoodie-clad interns using a taste graph and a mood board called ‘Global Vibes’. There are misses and moments of cringe.

But even then, Netflix is still the role model for me on how you do international TV business in this changing environment. You do so by being a transnational media firm rather than a US centric moguldom. Unlike the old-school Hollywood parade that arrives with a binder full of stats and a smile full of assumption, Netflix has mastered the art of market humility. In Kenya, they pulled their free mobile plan – a bold and risky move – and replaced it with a low-cost subscription model built with local pricing sensitivities in mind. It was a move that went beyond what economic calculations dictated. It showed market respect.

In Poland, they produced “High Water,” a disaster drama grounded in local history and emotional realism,  and didn’t try to rebrand it as ‘Eastern European Narcos’. In Germany, “How to Sell Drugs Online (Fast)” succeeded not because it mimicked U.S. teen drama but because it leaned unapologetically into its own weirdness – and became a huge success internationally.

What sets them apart isn’t some magic wand but how their methodological approach to differnet markets is based on deference to local instinct, willingness to co-create, and the rare act of not being the loudest in the room.

Yes, they have the capital. But what matters more is how they spend their attention.

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Toward a New Vision: Media Without Masters

History has a habit of repeating itself, especially when empires overstay their welcome. Think of Rome lecturing the provinces even as its aqueducts crumbled. Think of Britain in the 1950s, sipping tea in Delhi while its own economy unravelled. The entertainment empire of Hollywood may not yet be falling but it is certainly being outflanked.

We need an industry that no longer acts like a cultural imperial force with a glossy veneer, but one that builds from the soil up. Where local creators aren’t given a budget and a list of do’s and don’ts in English, but trusted with the creative reins and a platform.

For this we need to look beyond content and its production. We must rewire how we think, how our, business,  markets and institutions work together. Regional players must stop seeing each other as competition for Hollywood’s affection and start behaving like what they truly are: strategic equals with collective power.

We need local alliances with backbone, that define their own approach and models. We need joint ventures, co-production hubs, funding coalitions and, frankly, less inferiority complex when we stand next to those very important people who just flew in from LA and NYC ‘to do Europe’.

And then there are the conferences. The sacred rituals of the global TV priesthood, glorified by sitting at the café with a glass of rosé, a fancy hip lemonade at the parlor or those power lunches at the steakhouse. Panels titled ‘The Future of Content’ moderated by someone who has not produced content since the Nokia ringtone era. You get five Americans, one weary European, and a token guest from Asia who gets ten minutes at the end; only then usually cut short because the moderator wants to squeeze in another joke about Nielsen.

You watch them play ‘Global Bingo’: whoever says ‘scale,’ ‘data-driven,’ or ‘platform agnostic’ first gets to dominate the rest of the hour. Meanwhile, real local producers sit in the audience, clutching incredible stories – and their tongues.

These conferences showcase a lot brilliance; don’t get me wrong on that. But the microphone is too often put in front of the loudest and quick-wittest in the room – and we know who they are. If you are not fully fluent and eloquent in English, you do not get your say. Even if you are brilliant, too.

We should retire the format and take the risk to uninvite the usual suspects. Or, at least give them a smaller stage  and hand the mic to someone who didn’t go to USC film school but still knows. We don’t need another all-English panel of middle-aged men talking about how to “scale culture.” We need multilingual keynotes. Real local case studies. And panels where silence from the Americans is not seen as a technical fault, but a chance for someone else to speak how to hold an audience. Someone whose slides have subtitles.

The global TV industry is more chaotic, but also more diverse than a decade ago.

The global TV industry is more chaotic, but also more diverse than a decade ago. Hence we need to recalibrate how it is presented and mirror the reality of the markets out there. Markets that do not fit into one map only; maybe they are not really mapped at all. Realities that do not fit the standard model but actually might bring life to new approaches, stories and ways to invigorate the industry.

It’s time for an industry that reflects the mess, beauty, humor, and contradictions of our actual cultures. Not as side dishes, not as fusion tapas made digestible for international juries but as the main course. Served unapologetically, seasoned with local confidence, and without a side of validation from Los Angeles.

So where should our journey through the ever-expanding TV universe take us to?

We need an industry that is more than just “open to voices,” but truly welcomes and includes them. Embracing the differences and nuances of the diverse voices and markets is the most solid building block for an industry where local creators aren’t treated like regional reps for an L.A. franchise, but as architects of something genuinely new.

That means regional players need to collaborate and not compete to be “the one local brand Hollywood likes.” It means we need stronger industry coalitions across borders. Joint funds. Shared slates. Common platforms. And most of all: we need to have the willingness to come together and listen to each other, to share our pain points and anxieties – and to help each other.

The old Hollywood OS is running out of updates. And frankly, it’s not compatible with the new world we’re living in.

It’s time for something more honest, more grounded, and more beautifully chaotic.

It’s time for more local sparkling stars to shine in this amazing TV universe, that I love to explore and travel through.

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Epilogue: Post-American, Not Anti-American

I want be clear before anyone reaches for their Stars and Stripes (which some have done with their Starbucks cup in hand for sure when they read the headline already). This is not an anti-American essay. I’ve worked with brilliant Americans. My start in the industry and most of my professional life has been with US companies and clients. I even lived in that great country for some years. I admire much of the storytelling craft that Hollywood has championed over the decades and I love my American friends (as long as they haven’t voted or endorsed the Orange Emperor).

But admiration isn’t obedience, and critique isn’t rebellion. This is about emanzipation from a skin that does not fit any longer and a necessary maintenance of the global industry. See it as  recalibration that keeps the wheel run more smoothly. This is about shedding the illusion that there’s only one road to success, and that it starts somewhere on Sunset Boulevard.

I’m not arguing for build up of cultural walls. We have already too many walls in our heads these days. To the contrary: I want us to break down walls and building bridges instead. Bridges and pathes that criss-cross the world and our industry universe. What we need now is a post-American mindset. One that’s pro-local, pro-regional, and in my case, unapologetically pro-European.

We all have stories to tell. We all have systems, methods, models and metrics that work. We just need to stop assuming our job is to impress someone across the Atlantic

We all have stories to tell. We all have systems, methods, models and metrics that work. We just need to stop assuming our job is to impress someone across the Atlantic. The world is not stopping to eat fast food. We are all learn and appreciate that there are so many other flavors to taste, so many other ways to prepare the same dish and what you can make with exotic ingredients or a simple batch of flour. The TV buffet has gotten wider, richer and more flavorfull; it is upon us to fill the plate.