A former producer’s perspective on why linear TV still matters.
“Are you still watching?”
Netflix’s all-too-familiar question lingers on the screen, its simplicity belying the deeper shift it represents. Autoplay has already decided what comes next, one episode bleeding seamlessly into another. But somewhere between the endless scroll and algorithm-driven recommendations, we’ve lost the art of discovery — the magic of cable, where the unexpected awaits at every turn of the channel.
The announcement of Comcast’s cable networks spin-off marks another chapter in the slow dissolution of cable television. Aptly dubbed “SpinCo,” the independent entity will house networks like MSNBC, CNBC, USA Network, E!, and SYFY, along with digital assets such as Fandango and Rotten Tomatoes. It’s expected to better serve diverse audiences and drive shareholder returns through improved financial flexibility, a well-capitalized balance sheet, and increased operational focus.
On the surface, the spin-off is a sound business decision, reflecting a company recalibrating in response to striking industry projections. PwC predicts that cable television revenue will decline by $15 billion annually by 2027, while Digital TV Research expects the number of pay-TV households in the U.S. and Canada to fall below 60 million by 2029. By offloading its cable assets, Comcast can concentrate on its core growth areas, including broadband, wireless, and its theme parks, while also scaling up Peacock, which is still unprofitable and overshadowed by Netflix, Hulu, and Max despite its exponential subscriber growth over the last four years. However, beyond the spreadsheets and strategies lies a cultural shift that could reshape not only how we consume content, but also how we connect with the world and those around us.
In its prime, cable turned television into an adventure. Families gathered for their favorite shows, friends debated controversial episodes, and entire nations shared in live moments of triumph and tragedy. The magic wasn’t just in the shows themselves, but also in the surprises along the way. Viewers might tune into their favorite show a few minutes early, only to get hooked on the closing scenes of a true crime documentary or discover a sitcom they’d never heard of. Cable was more than a source of entertainment — it was exploration, offering windows into worlds that stretched beyond the boundaries of individual preference.
For all its spontaneity, cable also influenced viewing habits with a discipline that’s hard to find these days. Back then, because shows aired during specific time slots, missing an episode meant waiting for a rerun or relying on friends to fill in the gaps. The “watercooler moments” of the past — rehashing last night’s game, breaking down the facts of a shocking news story, or buzzing with anticipation after a cliffhanger episode — were born from the collective experience of watching television together. Today, streaming’s on-demand nature has fragmented these moments, with viewers consuming content at their own pace. A viral hit might monopolize conversations briefly, but the shared sense of time and immediacy that cable provided is increasingly rare.
Behind the scenes, cable’s unpredictability has also defined the work of those bringing stories to life. My years as a producer for CNBC were a masterclass in adaptability, teaching me to embrace imperfections and surrender to the ever-shifting tides of live news. When the regional banking crisis erupted following the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank in 2023, the newsroom became a battleground of relentless updates. New details flooded in like an unrelenting wave, sweeping away carefully crafted scripts and upending plans in seconds. My team and I had no choice but to pivot in real time, navigating the chaos with ingenuity and conviction. What could have capsized us instead became one of our most unforgettable broadcasts, replete with raw, unscripted moments.
Of course, not every day is defined by the frenetic pace of breaking news. Live television involves more than just reacting to unfolding crises, as every hour must be filled, even during slower news cycles. Paradoxically, the quieter moments are what often spark the most creativity, leading to segments on overlooked issues or deep dives into economic, political, and social affairs. The scarcity of time and content forces producers to innovate, uncovering stories that might otherwise remain buried. It was this pressure — the unabated need to deliver — that fueled some of my team’s most compelling and impactful work.
Streaming platforms, by contrast, thrive on abundance and predictability. With endless options available at any moment, the urgency to explore or innovate fades. Viewers can watch whatever they want whenever they want, but this convenience often breeds isolation within well-worn content echo chambers. Instead of stumbling upon the unexpected, audiences are served what they’re most likely to enjoy, reinforcing their preferences and narrowing their horizons.
Cable’s decline also raises important questions about accessibility. Unlike streaming, which requires subscriptions, stable internet access, and compatible devices, cable was once a unifying force, bringing the same programming into nearly every household. Local news, major events, and societal phenomena were accessible to anyone with a television, regardless of location or socioeconomic status. For rural areas, older populations, and lower-income families, cable served as a vital lifeline to information and entertainment. As streaming’s dominance continues to grow, the digital divide will widen, threatening to leave millions without access to critical news or cultural touchstones. This shift forces us to ask: what happens when the evolution of media begins to exclude those unable to keep pace with advancing technology?
The long-term consequences remain to be seen, but cracks are already forming. Audiences are becoming siloed, retreating into niches curated by algorithms that prioritize engagement over diversity. News consumption is increasingly fragmented, as reflected in findings from the Pew Research Center, which reveal that 58% of Americans now prefer to get their news from digital devices, compared to just 32% who favor television. Among these digital users, 23% indicate a preference for news websites or apps, presumably confining themselves to familiar or preferred sources. In a world where viewers can tailor their media diets to reinforce their own perspectives, the prospect of polarization looms large. Without the universal experiences that cable once provided, we may lose not only the ability to discover new ideas, but also the empathy that comes from engaging with stories outside our own realities.
Looking ahead, entertainment risks becoming more tailored, yet less adventurous — more information-driven, yet less surprising. Live television isn’t just about reacting to a singular moment; it’s also about embracing the uncertainty of the world in which it exists. The value lies in its imperfections — the unscripted responses, technical hiccups, and genuine connections that come from watching something unravel in real time. These elements foster a sense of authenticity that’s lost in an increasingly manufactured world — a kind of loss that cuts deeper than any statistic can reveal.
Perhaps the real question, then, isn’t “are you still watching?”, but “what are we still seeking?” Without the friction of constraints and power of surprise that come with cable, do we risk dulling our creative edges? There may still be hope for serendipity, but it requires effort — clicking on unfamiliar titles, sitting in discomfort, and resisting the pull of autoplay. We must consider what we’re willing to leave behind and whether we’ll recognize what’s missing before it’s too late.
As cable fades to black, it leaves behind lessons that shouldn’t be forgotten. It taught us to wait, to wander, and to wonder. In a realm of infinite choice, maybe the greatest adventure lies in seeking out the surprises we didn’t know we were looking for.
After all, sometimes, the best stories aren’t the ones we choose. They’re the ones that find us.
Michelle Yu (MBA ‘26) is passionate about all things media, with experience in business news, documentary film, broadcast journalism, and television. She graduated from Columbia University with a degree in Film and Media Studies and worked for CNBC, NBC News, and CNN prior to HBS, along with projects for HBO, Showtime, Oxygen, and Spectrum.