From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America (New Directions in Latino American Cultures) 3030774694, 9783030774691

Citation preview

NEW DIRECTIONS IN LATINO AMERICAN CULTURES

From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America Joseph Straubhaar Melissa Santillana Vanesa de Macedo Higgins Joyce Luiz Guilherme Duarte

New Directions in Latino American Cultures Series Editors Licia Fiol-Matta Department of Spanish and Portuguese New York University New York, NY, USA José Quiroga Emory University Atlanta, GA, USA

The series will publish book-length studies, essay collections, and readers on sexualities and power, queer studies and class, feminisms and race, post-coloniality and nationalism, music, media, and literature. Traditional, transcultural, theoretically savvy, and politically sharp, this series will set the stage for new directions in the changing field. We will accept well-­ conceived, coherent book proposals, essay collections, and readers. More information about this series at http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14745

Joseph Straubhaar • Melissa Santillana  Vanessa de Macedo Higgins Joyce  Luiz Guilherme Duarte

From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America

Joseph Straubhaar The University of Texas at Austin Austin, TX, USA Vanessa de Macedo Higgins Joyce Texas State University–San Marcos San Marcos, TX, USA

Melissa Santillana Department of Radio-Television-Film The University of Texas at Austin Austin, TX, USA Luiz Guilherme Duarte University of Central Florida Orlando, FL, USA

New Directions in Latino American Cultures ISBN 978-3-030-77469-1    ISBN 978-3-030-77470-7 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Acknowledgments

We would first and foremost like to thank and acknowledge Kantar Media and particularly Jimena Urquijo for giving us access to their TGI Latina surveys from 2004 to 2014. That has provided us a truly unique opportunity to pair theoretical concerns that several of us have been working on for years with a remarkable base of data about audience preferences in major metropolitan areas of eight Latin American countries. We were fortunate that such a survey was so comprehensive that most of our major concerns and issues were covered in it, such as whether respondents preferred television and film from their nation, the region, the U.S., or Europe; attitudes such as cosmopolitanism and also extremely detailed demographic data that permitted us to examine issues of cultural and linguistic capital, for example. We have intended this book to be theoretically oriented and informed, first and foremost, but to have the opportunity to put many of our theoretical ideas to an empirical test was also greatly appreciated. We would like to also strongly and heartily thank several former graduate students who worked on the original report from which the TGI Latina data was extracted. Jeremiah Spence finished his doctorate at University of Texas, examining this same data, and is an affiliated researcher at UT. Vinicio Sinta, who finished his doctorate at University of Texas, is now teaching at Texas A&M San Antonio. Adolfo Mora, who finished his

v

vi 

Acknowledgments

doctorate at University of Texas, is now teaching at Schreiner College near San Antonio. Victor García Perdomo, who finished his doctorate at University of Texas, is now Director of the MA Program at Universidad de La Sabana, Colombia. We would also like to thank Deborah Castro Marino, now at the University of Rotterdam, who worked on several articles that came out of this data and which are cited in this book.

Contents

1 Introduction  1 Industries and Genres   1 Identities and Audiences   3 Ongoing Appeal of U.S. Programming in Latin America   4 Technologies that Increased the Flow of U.S. and Other Foreign Programming into Latin America   5 The Streaming Television Revolution   6 Theorizing the Audiences for Foreign Television   7 Outline of the Rest of the Book   8 References   9 2 The Growth of Latin American Television 13 Introduction  13 Latin America: A Birthplace of International Communication Theories  17 Television Eras in Latin America  19 Putting Latin America in the Context of the Other World Regions and Countries  22 A Region of Broadcast Exporters and Importers  23 Brazil  23 Mexico  25 Argentina  26 Colombia  27 Venezuela  28 vii

viii 

Contents

Chile  30 Peru  31 Ecuador  32 Audience Television Preferences Sample and Methods  33 The Impact of Streaming Television  38 References  40 3 Why Latin American Audiences Stay Loyal to National Broadcast Television 49 A History of National Preferences  50 Dependency on U.S. in Television  51 Cultural Imperialism  52 National Production  53 Telenovelas  53 The Introduction of Dramatic Series in Latin America  58 Cultural Proximity  59 Primary, Local or National, Cultural Proximity  61 Secondary, Regional (Geo-Cultural), or Cultural-­Linguistic Cultural Proximity  62 Ongoing Competition with Imported U.S. Television Programs and Channels  63 Capitals, Class, Viewing Options, and Viewing Choices  64 Methodology  65 Measurements  66 Data Analysis  67 Limitations  67 The Context of Multichannel Viewing Growth  67 Preferences for National and Regional Television Programs  68 General Preferences for National Programming and Channels  68 Genre Preferences and Domestic Bias  71 News  72 Telenovelas  72 Regional Programming Preferences  74 National Program Preferences and SES  75 Analysis/Conclusion  76 References  79

 Contents 

ix

4 The Persistence of the Popularity of US Television 87 Structural Factors Favoring the Commercial System of US Television  88 Cultural Imperialism and the Deeper Structural Factors Favoring the Popularity of US Television  90 The Persistence of US TV Programs on Broadcast Channels  93 The Structural Context for Latin American Elite Audiences  94 Impact of Transnational Pay-TV on the Increased Availability of US TV  96 Why Audiences Began to Choose Foreign TV More Often  97 The Growing Appeal in Latin America of the Big Wave of US Programs on Pay-TV  98 Changes in Latin American Audiences for US Television  99 Cultural, Economic, and Linguistic Capitals and Viewing Preferences 103 Cultural Capital 104 Economic Capital 107 Linguistic Capital 111 Age 115 Conclusion: Predicting Foreign Television Preferences 116 References 118 5 Changing Class Formations and Changing Television Viewing: The New Middle Class, Television and Pay Television in Eight Latin American Countries 2004–2020123 Social Class and Television in Latin America 124 Elite Desires for Diversity on TV 127 Beyond the Elite Audience on Pay-TV 128 The Growth of the Middle Class in Latin America 130 The Role of the Lower-Middle Class 133 Breaking Down Class with Bourdieu’s Capitals to Predict Multichannel Growth 134 Methodology 136 Findings: Income and Multichannel Penetration 137 Findings: Education and Multichannel Penetration 142 Education, Income, and Reasons for Getting Multichannel Television 146

x 

Contents

The Bust Years: 2014–2019 150 Analysis and Conclusion 154 References 155 6 Streaming Television, Netflix, and Transverse Transnationalism159 Introduction 159 Eras of Television and Streaming 160 Transversality 161 Reasons Why Streaming Is Increasingly Global 162 A Multiplicity of Models for Streaming 165 YouTube 166 Netflix 167 Disney+, HBO, Amazon Prime 170 Broad Range of Streaming Competitors in Latin America 171 Toward a Systematic Classification of the New Online Video Players 173 Media Imperialism 177 Platform Imperialism 178 Streaming Services as Global and Cosmopolitan 179 Transverse Flows and Streaming Companies 180 Taste Clusters Across Borders and Algorithmic Globalization 182 Problems of Access to Streaming 183 Netflix Strategy in Latin America 184 Netflix and Quality Television 187 Multilingualism on Netflix 189 Netflix Production in Latin America 190 Conclusion 193 References 195 7 Netflix, Distinction, and Cosmopolitanism Among Latin American Middle Class and Elite Audiences203 Distinction 204 Cosmopolitanism 207 Cosmopolitanism and Globalization 208 Cosmopolitanism and Bourdieu 209 Multiple Mobilities 211 Cultural Omnivores 212

 Contents 

xi

Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism 213 Peripheral Cosmopolitanism 214 Cosmopolitans and Omnivores in Latin America 215 Cosmopolitanism and Globalized Media Preferences 219 Cosmopolitanism as Branding for Netflix and Others 220 Cosmopolitanism and Audience Preferences for U.S. and European Television and Film 221 Conclusion 229 References 232 8 Conclusion237 National Preferences 237 Continuing Attraction and Power of Imported Programs and U.S. Culture 240 The Impact of New Television Technologies 241 Increase in Lower-Middle Class Increases Pay-TV Use 242 Economic and Cultural Capital and the Appeal of Foreign TV 243 Television Over the Internet, Streaming Television 245 Latin American Cosmopolitan Audiences 248 References 251 Index255

List of Figures

Fig. 2.1 Fig. 2.2 Fig. 2.3 Fig. 2.4 Fig. 3.1 Fig. 3.2 Fig. 3.3 Fig. 3.4 Fig. 3.5 Fig. 3.6 Fig. 4.1

Multichannel penetration by country in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela, 2003–2014. (Source: TGI Latina) 35 Cable, satellite, and non-multichannel households in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela, 2004–2014. (Source: TGI Latina) 36 Percentage of population using the internet in Latin America 2000–202039 Mobile data traffic in exabytes per month. (Source: https:// www.statista.com/statistics/292859/north-­america-­mobile-­ data-­traffic/#statisticContainer) 40 Latin American TV viewing interests (interested and very interested) by origin in 2004, 2014. (Source: TGI Latina) 69 Overall programming origin preferences, eight country average 2004–2014. (Source: TGI Latina) 70 Changing program preferences in Venezuela. (Source: TGI Latina) 71 Genres x national origin preferences. All countries. (Source: TGI Latina) 72 Trends in preference for regional Latin American programming. (Source: TGI Latina) 73 Latin American regional viewing interest x SES. All countries. (Source: TGI Latina) 75 Programming preferences in Latin America by origin of programs, 2004–2014 100

xiii

xiv 

List of Figures

Fig. 4.2 Fig. 4.3 Fig. 4.4 Fig. 4.5 Fig. 4.6 Fig. 4.7 Fig. 4.8 Fig. 4.9 Fig. 4.10 Fig. 5.1 Fig. 5.2 Fig. 5.3 Fig. 5.4 Fig. 5.5 Fig. 5.6 Fig. 5.7 Fig. 5.8 Fig. 5.9 Fig. 5.10 Fig. 5.11 Fig. 5.12 Fig. 5.13 Fig. 5.14 Fig. 5.15

Interest in programs and films from the USA by country: 2004, 2007, 2008, and 2013 101 Interest in programs and films from Europe by country: 2004, 2007, 2008, and 2013 102 Interest in programs and films from USA by cultural capital 2004–2014105 Interest in programs and films from Europe by cultural capital 2004–2014106 Interest in programs and films from U.S. by economic capital 2004–2014109 Interest in programs and films from Europe by economic capital 2004–2014 110 Interest in foreign programs and films by linguistic capital 2004–2014113 Interest in U.S. programs and films by linguistic capital by countries 2004. (Source: TGI Latina) 114 Interest in U.S. programs and films by age: 2004–2014 117 Percentage-specific countries have of the total members of the upper-­middle class (next 20%) in the eight country sample 131 Higher education for different social levels in Latin America 132 Percentage-specific countries have of the total members of the lower-­middle class (next 30%) in the country sample 133 Multichannel penetration in Latin America 2004–2014 138 Multichannel penetration by Latin American countries 2004–2014139 Multichannel penetration by income level: Combined Latin America140 Multichannel penetration Next 30% (income level) by country 141 Multichannel penetration Bottom 40% (income level) by country 142 Multichannel penetration Top 10% (income level) by country 143 Multichannel penetration by education achievement: Combined Latin America 143 Multichannel penetration by education achievement (TERTIARY ONLY) by country 144 Multichannel penetration by education achievement (SECONDARY ONLY) by country 145 Reasons for multichannel for all Latin American countries (Total responses) 148 Reasons for multichannel adoption by educational achievement (combined Latin American countries) 149 Reasons for multichannel adoption by income (combined Latin American countries) 151

  List of Figures 

Fig. 6.1 Fig. 7.1 Fig. 7.2 Fig. 7.3 Fig. 7.4 Fig. 7.5 Fig. 7.6

xv

OTT players with the most users 172 Interest in TV programs from different origins among cosmopolitans in various Latin American countries 223 Interest in TV programs from different origins among non-­cosmopolitans in various Latin American countries 224 Origin of program and film preference and cosmopolitan attitudes225 Cosmopolitans vs. Non-Cosmopolitans and origin of program and film preferences 226 Origin of program and film of preference and access to different streaming platforms 227 Access to streaming platforms and level of economic status 228

List of Tables

Table 2.1 An overview of trends across times and spaces in Latin American TV 20 Table 5.1 Pew income distribution 2001 vs. 2011 126 Table 5.2 Latin America GDP declines in the second half of last decade (annual variation in %) 134 Table 5.3 Comparison of SES and education on pay-TV penetration rate increases145 Table 6.1 OTT players with the most users in Latin America-2019 174

xvii

CHAPTER 1

Introduction

Industries and Genres This book is about television in Latin America. Its national and regional industries create most television programming there within the genres that have developed over time in the region to please its audiences. Those programs hold their attention for the advertising that pays for most of the television systems in the region. However, quite a bit of the programming has always come from the U.S., and to a lesser degree, Europe, and elsewhere. With the technologies of cable, satellite and now streaming, that inflow of foreign programming has increased hugely. While many in the audience still prefer national programs, an increasing number among the upper-middle and middle classes, particularly the young, are turning to the new foreign outlets, like Netflix, Amazon, and Disney. This book examines both dynamics in the audience and various theoretical understandings for them. It also examines the dynamics among the television industries as both global and national actors create a variety of programs and channels (broadcast, pay-TV, and streaming) to appeal to different parts of the audience. There are interesting questions about the political and economic contexts of the Latin American television industries. They grew up under a great deal of influence by national governments (Sinclair and Straubhaar

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_1

1

2 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

(2013), by both national and foreign advertisers (Mattos, 1984), and by fundamentally U.S. models of how to create programming for an advertising-­oriented industry (Fox, 1975; Straubhaar, 1984), such as the now-famous case of how Colgate-Palmolive got Cuban producers to adapt the U.S. soap opera into what became the Latin American telenovela (Rivero, 2009). In terms of political economy, many researchers see this development of commercial Latin American television under U.S. influence as part of a worldwide push to spread consumer capitalism, both institutionally and through programs and advertisements that drew audiences into a role as consumers rather than as citizens (Dorfman & Mattlelart, 1975; Garcia Canclini, 2001). In a larger theoretical sense, these developments have been seen as the dependency of Latin America on U.S. models and resources (Cardoso & Faletto, 1979; Dagnino, 1973), as well as part of larger structures of cultural imperialism (Nordenstreng & Schiller, 1979; Schiller, 1969). All of these forces shape the examination we make of Latin American television industries in Chap. 2. As research on Latin American television progressed into the 1980s, however, one of the things that stood out was how, despite their origins in dependency and imperialism, the industries in the larger countries, particularly Brazil and Mexico, were beginning to produce a great deal of nationally focused programming: melodrama, variety, comedy, music, sports, and news (Straubhaar, 1984; Antola & Rogers, 1984). This contrasted with the original predictions of cultural and media imperialism theories that there would be a one-way flow of television from the U.S. and a few other countries into the rest of the world (Nordenstreng & Schiller, 1979), based in part on earlier empirical studies that showed a substantially one-way flow in the early 1970s (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974). Culturally, that was thought to lead to a cultural threat to national identities, even cultural homogenization or synchronization (Beltran, 1978; Hamelink, 1983). The fact that Brazil and Mexico began to produce most of their own programming, and even export it to other countries in the region (Antola & Rogers, 1984; Sinclair, 1998; Straubhaar, 1981), created important case studies in the global debate on television production and flow. Along with evidence from Egypt, Hong Kong, India, Japan, and elsewhere (Sinclair et al., 1996), there was growing evidence that a number of countries were breaking out of the limited television production aspect of dependency and unbalanced flow of television. Chapter 2 of this book examines the tensions between the ongoing forces of dependency,

1 INTRODUCTION 3

imperialism, and national governments’ push to produce more, in a form of import-substitution industrialization of television (Straubhaar, 1981), and the region’s major television producers. It also examines the forces of genre development that came into greater scrutiny as researchers more interested in cultural studies began to look at the growth of distinctive genres, particularly telenovelas (Martin-Barbero, 1987; Mazziotti, 1993) and variety shows, referred to in Brazil as shows de auditório (Miceli, 1972; Sodre, 1972).

Identities and Audiences The force that created a space in which both television industries and genres could grow was the interest and preferences of Latin American audiences, although media industries, genres, and audiences tend to grow together (Holt & Perren, 2011; Jenkins & Deuze, 2008). It began to become clear even in the mid-1960s that Latin American audiences preferred nationally produced television genres, telenovelas, variety shows, comedy, music, news, and sports. For example, TV Globo launched a station in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in 1965, in partnership with Time-Life Corporation, which recommended the Hollywood common wisdom of programming a lot of imported shows from the U.S. (Wallach, 2011). That programming approach put them in fourth place out of four stations in ratings, which only improved when Globo’s management changed and emphasized local production with news, music, variety, and telenovelas (Wallach, 2011). Anderson argued that national identities developed in nineteenth-­ century Latin America and elsewhere as imagined communities based on the interaction of several forces: national government measures such as schools, maps, holidays, museums; the development of newspapers and key works of nationally based fiction in national languages; and what he called print capitalism—media industries that provided the basis for extending both government ideas and commercial media content into the population. Radio and then television extended that development much further by reaching people who could not read or who lived beyond the reach of print media (Porto, 2012), creating a new form of electronic capitalism (Appadurai, 1996). Political leaders like Getúlio Vargas in Brazil used music, soccer, and news on national radio to articulate broader national identities that brought in working classes, rural populations, and racial groups previously

4 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

excluded by emphasizing music that came from Afro-Brazilian traditions (Vianna, 1999). The military revolution of 1964 expanded television coverage to ensure that all Brazilians got a Portuguese language national signal and counted on commercial television to expand the consumer economy (Straubhaar, 1981; Wallach, 2011). Similarly, in Mexico La hora nacional, a one-hour weekly radio program debuted in 1937, worked as a project of musical nationalism, focusing on showcasing Mexican art music that incorporated popular musical themes. This program that continues to this day was one of the first efforts to use radio to build national cultural and political unity (Hayes, 2006). Telenovela development in Brazil after 1968 refocused the genre on national themes and issues, similar to what happened in Argentina, Mexico, and Venezuela in the 1960s–1970s (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). As Chap. 3 shows, the nationally oriented content proved very popular. Those countries too small or poor to produce telenovelas increasingly imported them from regional producers like Brazil and Mexico (Roncagliolo, 1995).

Ongoing Appeal of U.S. Programming in Latin America Although national programming increasingly filled up most of the most popular hours of broadcast on the main television networks of Latin America, smaller stations continued to carry quite a bit of imported U.S. programming. It was cheap, priced well below what it cost to produce an equivalent program in Latin America (Fox, 1975; Hoskins & Mirus, 1988), and it was popular with enough of the audience to deliver a profit (Read, 1976; Straubhaar, 1981). Chapter 4 explores how while national programming was the most popular in terms of audience preference, as reflected in surveys by the main regional survey and ratings group (Kantar Media’s TGI survey), U.S. television programs and films were a close second, in terms of overall preferences, much higher than either regional Latin American or European programming. The background to this relative popularity of U.S. programs can be seen in the high levels of exposure that Latin American audiences have had to U.S. films, music, cartoons, comics, and other media since the initial explosion of Hollywood exports in the 1920–1930s (Guback & Varis, 1986; Schnitman, 1984). Hollywood dominated the Latin American market, although Mexican films of their golden age in the 1940s were also

1 INTRODUCTION 5

fairly popular across the region (Berg, 2015; Ricalde & Irwin, 2013). Other national cinemas struggled (Schnitman, 1984) or were thwarted by the big American studios, so cinema audiences had a long process of cultivation in which film was essentially North American. Since the same Hollywood companies created much of the television programming exported in the 1950s–1970s, the U.S. had an export advantage in television as well, reflected in the 1974 UNESCO study (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974). To dig beneath the surface of why U.S. programs remained popular, if not as popular as national programs, Chap. 4 breaks down the audience by social class, education, income, language ability, and other major audience characteristics. In line with the predictions of French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu (1984, 1986), we found that more elite audiences and upper-­ middle classes tended to prefer imported programs, which were seen in context, as more sophisticated or at least as more distinct from popular tastes, since the middle class on down to the working poor still preferred national programs. The results are based on the Kantar TGI surveys of preferences from 2004 to 2014. This audience analysis fits with long-­ standing predictions by both dependency theory (Dagnino, 1973; Dos Santos, 1978) and cultural imperialism theory (Beltran, 1978; Schiller, 1969) that Latin Americans and other elites tended to be drawn away from national culture toward the cultures of colonial and post-colonial powers. Chapter 4 also explores that historical process and the literature on it.

Technologies that Increased the Flow of U.S. and Other Foreign Programming into Latin America Several generations of technology have helped television and film programming from the U.S. and elsewhere penetrate further into Latin America. The main broadcast networks that spread the farthest into rural and small-town Latin America were usually the flagships that carried the most national programming, such as TV Globo and Televisa (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). However, increasing availability of satellite channels at lower cost enabled smaller networks, like SBT and Record in Brazil, which carried more U.S. programming, to gain national distribution, too. The big leaps forward in massive penetration of U.S. and European

6 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

programming in Latin America came with first, satellite and cable distribution of pay-TV foreign channels, and now, since 2011, new U.S.-based streaming services, starting with Netflix in 2011, then Amazon Prime, and accelerating recently as Disney+, HBO Max, and other services announced international expansion since 2019. Although some expected satellite and cable-based international television to penetrate quickly and deeply into Latin America (Mattelart & Schmucler, 1985), it languished outside of Argentina and Colombia, where government takeovers or regulation kept national commercial television networks less developed. Elsewhere, the preference for national content on national networks kept the take-up of pay-TV low (Reis, 1999) until after 2000, when three things began to change. Economic growth since the 1990s in many countries allowed more people to move up into the middle and upper-middle classes (Ferreira et  al., 2012), which gave them more purchasing power, making the acquisition of new forms of television more affordable. Education reforms and subsidies to families that allowed children to attend school—rather than working—gave many people more education, hence more cultural capital, which we argue began to change their tastes. Third, more national broadcasters began to create their own satellite or cable-based pay-TV channels with attractive national content, such as national films, national telenovela revivals, national equivalents of documentary-based channels like Discovery, and 24-hour news. Unlike the 1980s–1990s, the expansion of pay-TV in the largest Latin American nations increased access also to new national content, not just U.S. and European. Chapter 5 goes in-depth on the growth of the Latin American lower-middle class and middle class, as well as the subsequent growth of subscriptions to pay-TV, which brought in a great deal more of U.S.-based channels such as CNN, HBO, MTV, Discovery, and so on.

The Streaming Television Revolution While pay-TV began to lose some subscribers after economic recessions in several countries like Brazil after 2013, streaming has grown steadily since Netflix entered the Latin American market in 2011. Streaming is turning out to be quite diverse, with national, regional, and outside players, but the most high-profile, highly used services are the U.S. streaming platforms, such as Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, and so on. The new U.S. streaming television companies seem to represent two new threats to

1 INTRODUCTION 7

Latin American television. First is a renewed wave of unbalanced flow or media imperialism (Boyd-Barrett, 1977) from the U.S. to the region, in the form of catalogs on Netflix that are very disproportionately U.S. in origin (Penner & Straubhaar, 2020) or almost completely North American in the case of Disney. Second is a new form of platform imperialism (Jin, 2017), in which some platforms like Netflix begin to have more diverse contents from various global producing nations, including Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico, but strategy-making, financial decisions to greenlight programs, and programming decisions, as well as the greatest part of the financial benefit rest with the U.S.-based corporations (Birkinbine et al., 2016). Chapter 6 creates a typology for the different kinds of streaming platforms in Latin America, within several overall categories, including their focus and location, and looks at their relative impact via their subscription or use numbers. It shows that the U.S. platforms, such as Netflix, Amazon, and YouTube, do dominate the audience numbers. However, a large number of national platforms, such as Globoplay in Brazil and niche services aimed at different kinds of films and programs across Latin America, are growing and may offer some competition.

Theorizing the Audiences for Foreign Television One of the main trends observed in this book is that audiences for U.S., European, and other television from beyond the region are growing in Latin America, even though many parts of the audience remain remarkably loyal to local genres produced by national and regional industries. Still, to have audience momentum in numbers away from national and regional production is notable and significant. Fortunately, the TGI audience preference data we had been using allows us to examine some of the theoretical trends in empirical terms in Chap. 7. The dominant theorization emerged early as the exception to cultural proximity theory (Straubhaar, 1981), built on Bourdieu’s cultural capital theory (1984, 1986). He predicted that social elites and upper-middle classes trying to become elite would prefer cultural products that were identified as markers of elite status. In television and film, those had been seen as products from the U.S. and Europe, back as far as cultural dependency theory (Dagnino, 1973). Using the TGI data, there is in fact a strong association between cultural capital (education), economic capital (income), and linguistic capital (languages spoken or learned) and a

8 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

preference for U.S. and, to a lesser degree, European film, and television. However, there was also a strong association with an alternative idea, that audiences would not so much seek distinction by preferring traditionally elite (imported) culture, but instead consume all kinds of culture, becoming cultural omnivores (Peterson, 1992). That wasn’t true of people marked solely by higher cultural capital, but it was true of people who held all four of a set of attitudes that fits descriptions from the literature (Beck, 2002; Corpus Ong, 2009) for people who were more cosmopolitan, which from its roots implies an attitude focused less on the local or national and more on being a citizen of the world (Hannerz, 1997). The indicators for such a group include interest in other cultures, interest in watching news from abroad, interest in foreign travel, and interest in foreign food. We thus outline three related cultural theories that were associated with preferring U.S. and European television: a desire for elite cultural distinction (Bourdieu, 1984), cosmopolitanism (Beck, 2002), and cultural omnivorousness (Peterson, 1992).

Outline of the Rest of the Book By providing a summary of some of the main theoretical issues and some of the historical antecedents of the broadcast, pay-TV, and streaming situations in the eight Latin American countries covered by the TGI Latina surveys, the second chapter provides the grounds for the analyses of television industries and audience behavior encompassed in the rest of the volume. Chapter 3 provides an analysis of audience programming preferences for programs, channels, and films of national and regional origin. That reviews the concept of cultural proximity, which predicts greater preference for national and regional programs, looks at the socio-economic status breakdown of who prefers these programs, and also looks at a breakdown by genres. Chapter 4 looks at the ongoing second preference among many Latin American audiences, particularly in the major metropolitan areas for which we have data, for U.S. or European programming. We find that this is linked to the degree to which respondents have greater cultural capital (education), economic capital (income), or linguistic capital (English language ability for US or European programming, Spanish for Brazilians, etc.), building on the theoretical insights of Pierre Bourdieu (1984). Chapter 5 looks at the recent growth of the Latin American middle and lower-middle socioeconomic classes or strata (Ferreira et al., 2012) as a

1 INTRODUCTION 9

prime driver of multichannel TV, a service formerly considered as a luxury item. The somewhat different aspects of the social class represented by economic capital versus cultural capital are contrasted, with cultural capital seeming more important for obtaining multichannel access, as well as for the desire for more kinds of channels and more channels beyond the national television available to them. Chapter 6 looks at the growth of streaming television in Latin America. It focuses substantially on Netflix as the global subscription video on demand (SVOD) company that first focused on Latin America in 2011, but also compares other global actors such as Prime Video (SVOD), iTunes (transactional downloads and VOD), and YouTube (advertising-supported VOD). Netflix’s strategy of creating programs around the world, including Latin America, and then promoting those series to global audiences, including those in the U.S., is theorized and analyzed in terms of transversality. Other actors, such as regional telecoms Telmex (Mexico) and Telefónica (Spain), major television broadcasters like TV Globo and Televisa, and local/regional independents and niche or genre-specific streaming operations have all entered the Latin American streaming television market, numbering in the hundreds, although far fewer get significant attention from audiences. Chapter 7 examines the underlying attitudinal and behavioral traits linked to cultural preferences for foreign or international television content, particularly among those in the upper-middle and upper classes, in terms of possible pulls and drives. One is a drive for cultural and social distinction as outlined by Bourdieu (1984). Another is cultural openness or omnivorousness (Peterson, 1992) or cosmopolitanism (Beck, 2002; Igarashi & Saito, 2014), in which audiences are drawn to a wider range of media and not just those typically thought of as either popular or elite. We use TGI data to examine those motives for preferences for television from national, regional, U.S., or European sources.

References Antola, L., & Rogers, E. M. (1984). Television flows in Latin America. Communication Research, 11(2), 183–202. Appadurai, A. (1996). Modernity at large: Cultural dimensions of globalization. University of Minnesota Press. Beck, U. (2002). The cosmopolitan society and its enemies. Theory, Culture & Society, 19(1–2), 17–44. https://doi.org/10.1177/026327640201900101

10 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Beltran, L. R. (1978). TV etchings in the minds of Latin Americans: Conservatism, materialism and conformism. Gazette, 24(1), 61–65. Berg, C.  R. (2015). The classical Mexican cinema: The poetics of the exceptional Golden age films. University of Texas Press. Birkinbine, B., Gómez, R., & Wasko, J. (2016). Global media giants. Routledge. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A social critique of the judgment of taste. London, Routledge. Bourdieu, P. (1986). “The Forms of Capital.” Pp. 241–58 in Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education, edited by John G. Richardson. New York: Greenwood. Boyd-Barrett, O. (1977). Media imperialism: Towards an international framework for the analysis of media systems. In J. E. A. Curran (Ed.), Mass communication and society. Arnold. Cardoso, F.  H., & Faletto, E. (1979). Dependency and development in Latin America. University of California Press. Corpus Ong, J. (2009). The cosmopolitan continuum: Locating cosmopolitanism in media and cultural studies. Media Culture Society, 31(3), 449–466. https:// doi.org/10.1177/0163443709102716 Dagnino, E. (1973). Cultural and ideological dependence: Building a theoretical framework. In F. Bonilla & R. Girling (Eds.), Structures of dependency. Stanford University Press. Dorfman, A., & Mattlelart, A. (1975). How to read Donald duck: Imperialist ideology in the Disney comic. International General. Dos Santos, T. (1978). Imperialismo y dependencia. DF Ediciones Era. Ferreira, F. H. G., Messina, J., Rigolini, J., López-Calva, L.-F., Lugo, M. A., & Vakis, R. (2012). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. World Bank Group. Fox, E. (1975). Multinational television. Journal of Communication, 25(2), 122–127. Garcia Canclini, N. (2001). Consumers and citizens: Globalization and multicultural conflicts (T. A. W. A. I. B. G. Yudice, Trans.). University of Minnesota Press. Guback, T., & Varis, T. (1986). Transnational communication and cultural industries. UNESCO Reports and Papers on Mass Communication, No. 92. UNESCO, Paris. Hamelink, C. J. (1983). Cultural autonomy threatened. In Cultural autonomy in global communications (pp. 1–25). Longman. Hannerz, U. (1997). Notes on the global Ecumene. In A. Srenberny-Mohammadi, D. Winseck, J. McKenna, & O. Boyd-Barrett (Eds.), Media in global context: A reader. Arnold/Hodder Headline Group. Hayes, J. (2006). National Imaginings on the Air: Radio in Mexico, 1920–1950. In The Eagle and the Virgin (pp. 243–258). Duke University Press.

1 INTRODUCTION 11

Holt, J., & Perren, A. (2011). Media industries: History, theory, and method. John Wiley & Sons. Hoskins, C., & Mirus, R. (1988). Reasons for the US dominance of the international trade in television Programmes. In N.  J. Smelser (Ed.), Handbook of sociology. SAGE. Igarashi, H., & Saito, H. (2014). Cosmopolitanism as cultural capital: Exploring the intersection of globalization, education and stratification. Cultural Sociology, 8(3), 222–239. Jenkins, H., & Deuze, M. (2008). Convergence culture. Sage Publications, UK. Jin, D. Y. (2017). Global digital culture| digital platform as a double-edged sword: How to interpret cultural flows in the platform era. International Journal of Communication, 11, 3880–3898. Martin-Barbero, J. (1987). De los medios a las mediaciones: Comunicacion, cultura y hegemonia. G. Gili. Mattelart, A., & Schmucler, H. (1985). Communication and information technologies: Freedom of choice for Latin America? (D. Bruxton, Trans.). Ablex. Mattos, S. (1984). Advertising and government influences on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 203–220. Mazziotti, N. (1993). Acercamientos a las telenovelas latinoamericanas. In A. Fadul (Ed.), Serial fiction in TV: The Latin American telenovelas (p. 25l). Robert M. Videira. Miceli, S. (1972). A Noite da Madrinha. Editora Perspectiva. Nordenstreng, K., & Schiller, H. I. (1979). National sovereignty and international communications. Ablex Publishing Corp. Nordenstreng, K., & Varis, T. (1974). Television traffic—A one-way street. UNESCO. Penner, T. A., & Straubhaar, J. (2020). Títulos originais e licenciados com exclusividade no catálogo brasileiro da Netflix. Matrizes, 14(1), 125–149. https:// doi.org/10.11606/issn.1982-­8160 Peterson, R.  A. (1992). Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. Poetics, 21(4), 243–258. Porto, M. (2012). Media power and democratization in Brazil: TV Globo and the dilemmas of political accountability. Routledge. Read, W.  H. (1976). America’s mass media merchants. The Johns Hopkins University Press. Reis, R. (1999). What prevents cable TV from taking off in Brazil? Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 43(3), 399–415. Ricalde, M., & Irwin, R.  M. (2013). Global Mexican cinema: Its Golden age. Bloomsbury Publishing. Rivero, Y.  M. (2009). Havana as a 1940s–1950s Latin American media capital. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 26(3), 275–293.

12 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Roncagliolo, R. (1995). Trade integration and communication networks in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communications, 20(3), 335–342. Schiller, H. I. (1969). Mass communication and American empire. Beacon. Schnitman, J.  A. (1984). Film industries in Latin America—Dependency and development. Ablex. Sinclair, J. (1998). Latin American television: A global view. Oxford:Oxford. University Press. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. BFI/Palgrave. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New patterns in global television (pp. 1–15). Oxford University Press. Sodre, M. (1972). A comunicacao do grotesco. Editora Vozes. Straubhaar, J. D. (1981). The transformation of cultural dependency: The decline of American influence on the Brazilian television industry (Ph.D.). Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University. Straubhaar, J. (1984). The decline of American influence on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 221–240. Vianna, H. (1999). The mystery of samba. University of North Carolina Press. Wallach, J. (2011). Meu capítulo na TV Globo. Editora Topbooks.

CHAPTER 2

The Growth of Latin American Television

Introduction Latin American television has been notable around the world for both its dependence on US models, advertising, and programs and the early growth of some of its main networks, such as Televisa in Mexico and TV Globo in Brazil, and their early push into creating most of their own programming in the 1960s and 1970s, when many stations and networks around the world were primarily importing U.S. or European programs (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). It was also one of the first strongly developed regional markets in television (Sinclair et al., 1996). It emerged as a world exporter, particularly of telenovelas, in the 1980s and developed satellite channels that carried Latin American programming to other parts of the world. Recently, several Latin American networks and individual producers have become active producers and co-producers for new streaming services such as Netflix and other services that are entering the region, such as HBO. Latin America has been the birthplace of several theories that have influenced international and global media studies. Those include theories of dependent development (Cardoso, 1973; Evans, 1979); of cultural dependence (Beltran & Fox, 1980; Dagnino, 1973; Fox, 1992; Oliveira, 1986; Pasquali, 1977); of the corporatist interplay between national governments and private companies (Schwartzman,

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_2

13

14 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

1977); a related idea of political patrimonialism that looks at the extension of the rulers’ power to elites, such as those in media, who serve the rulers’ needs (Pereira, 2016); and the captured liberal media system model, referring to the bias in favor of economic and political interests (Guerrero & Márquez-Ramírez, 2014); of the also related idea of clientelism between state authorities and media corporate owners (Hallin & Papathanassopoulos, 2002); of the hybrid development of cultural production and reception between local, national and international forces and influences (Canclini, 1995; Martín-Barbero, 1993); of high audience impact by US television programs (Beltran, 1978); and of increasing audience choice favoring national and regional programs (Straubhaar, 1991a). Some other useful theories from outside Latin America have been applied to it. One is the concept of political parallelism, which analyzes media systems, in terms of organizational connections between the newspaper or network and any specific political parties or actors, manifested in news, but also entertainment content and partisan audiences (Hallin, 2004). For instance, Televisa was explicitly tied to the PRI party in Mexico (Fernández & Paxman, 2001) television licenses were traditionally given to individuals with close ties to dominant parties in Latin America (Waisbord, 2012), including Brazil (dos Santos, 2006) and TV Globo was closely tied to the military governments in Brazil (Hertz, 1987). Much of Latin American political economy and critical theory about media developed from the theories of the Frankfurt School about cultural industries (Horkheimer & Adorno, 1972). Overall theories of imperialism have been shown to still have strong implications for culture, information, and media (Fuchs, 2010; Harvey, 2005b), as have formulations of neo-liberalism since the 1980s (Harvey, 2005a). The theory of cultural imperialism has likewise greatly affected the development of Latin American ideas of the political economy of media (Bolaño, 1999; Bolaño et al., 2005; Pasquali, 1977; Schiller, 1969) and the assumption of strong ideological impacts of foreign media on Latin America (Beltran, 1978; Dorfman & Mattelart, 1972; Schiller, 1976). The parallel theory of media imperialism, which focuses more specifically on unequal relations between media systems, has also affected media analysis in Latin America (Boyd-Barrett, 1977; Boyd-Barrett & Mirrlees, 2019), since it was often used to focus on unbalanced media flows, foreign investment, and the impact of foreign advertising (Fejes, 1981).

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 15

Semiotics has often been applied to television and cultural studies within Latin America (Benavides, 2008; Carter, 2018; Morais, 2000), particularly to genre analysis, such as Miceli’s and Sodre’s seminal analyses of the television variety show/talk show in Brazil (Miceli, 1972; Sodre, 1972). Cultural studies and cultural anthropology have been applied to issues like the development of the telenovela (Leal, 1986; Ortiz et  al., 1988). More recently, theories of global television studies (Havens, 2003; Havens, 2006; Duarte, 2009; Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013) and media industry studies (Holt & Perren, 2011; Havens et al., 2009) have been applied to Latin American television, particularly to focus greater attention on the key actors within television studies, such as national entrepreneurs, producers, programmers, writers, and so on. One of the key themes of this book, in terms of both theoretical development, industry, and audience analysis, will be the dialectic and contradiction between national industry growth and audience response to it in parallel to the continuing impact of US ideologies, models, genres, programming, and the audience response to that. For the national television industry growth, we will concentrate on theories of media and the nation-­ state (corporatism, clientelism, patrimonialism, imagined communities, and political economy) and theories of political economy, cultural and media industry, both the Neo-Marxist forms by Horkheimer and Adorno and more recent critical media industries theories. For the U.S. impact, we will consider theories such as imperialism, colonialism, dependency, and dependent development. Another focus will be examining the growth of television industries. That includes the colonial roots of some aspects of the Latin American commercial media model (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013); the development of Latin American patterns, such as models of family media empires with a corporatist relationship to the government (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013); and the strong impact of US advertising, broadcasting, multichannel and streaming television models (Waisbord, 1998), as well as the larger context of US economic and cultural influence on the region. This sets a pattern for this book in an analysis of national trends, regional trends, US patterns that flow into the region, and larger influences by other regions, such as Europe as well as more global trends, such as satellite-based television (Duarte & Straubhaar, 2004) and now Internet-based streaming television, such as YouTube and Netflix (Lobato, 2018).

16 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

A related focus is the relationship between national governments and broadcasters. This is one of the most influential factors at the national level of television development in Latin America (Waisbord, 1995). Historically, nation-states were often seen as the most dominant force in national communications, in close interaction with domestic and foreign capital (Evans, 1979). However, nations are often left reacting to new global media developments, such as the current strong surge of globally based streaming television into the region. Another, related major force is the way that entrepreneurs, producers, writers, programmers, and others have developed television approaches and programs within its industrial pattern and within its relationship to the government (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Many of those actors are now increasingly working directly with regional forces, provoking a surge in the amount of inter-regional co-production, including those between major national producers in Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico with the new wave of international streaming companies. Netflix now has dozens of co-­ productions in the region, along with others such as HBO and Amazon. Latin America was one of the first regions outside Europe and North America to develop a new genre, the telenovela, with regional flows, first in scripts in the 1950s, then in programs themselves by the 1970s. However, this genre developed first in Cuba, sponsored by a US advertiser, Colgate-Palmolive (Rivero, 2015), which shows the strong structural influence of US advertisers and other economic powers. Furthermore, while regional television flow in telenovelas and other programs flourished in Latin America, US television programs often remained more popular, as the empirical core of this book will show. What audiences choose to watch, what their genre preferences are, and how they respond to new technological options is ultimately the most important thing for the commercial industries that dominate Latin American television. The trends noted above shape audience preferences over the years and are an empirical and theoretical focus of this book. The mass audience in Latin America has remained loyal to mass-oriented genres, like the telenovela, while increasingly fracturing along class and other lines. Some audiences are now driven by elite desires for cultural distinction or cosmopolitanism, enabled by increased access to foreign programming via cable/satellite pay-TV and now streaming TV. Many are opting away from the popular mass genres of the past.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 17

Latin America: A Birthplace of International Communication Theories Some of the main theories used to explain preferences by national audiences for their own programming, like cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991), were developed first in Latin America to explain the fact that audiences there already preferred national programming as early as the 1970s, when the commonplace expectation in much of the world—supported by research like that by UNESCO researchers at the time (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974)—was that most countries were importing most of their programs, mostly entertainment and mostly from the U.S. and that audiences preferred that imported entertainment for its production quality, modern contents, and so on (Collins, 1986). By the 1970s, major national networks like Televisa and TV Globo were already beginning to export their programs to other countries in Latin America, and to some other markets with the same language and culture, such as Portugal for Brazil. This export drive boomed particularly in the 1990s, when a combination of satellite and cable TV technologies created new distribution possibilities, and a wave of deregulation, liberalization of competition by private networks, and privatization of some government networks created a large number of new stations, television networks, and multichannel distribution systems with many spaces for new channels (Hoskins et al., 1997). With this massive wave of new markets for programming, Latin American programs, particularly from TV Globo and Televisa, flowed to many new places in Western and Eastern Europe, in the Middle East, and in Africa, among others (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013; Lopes, 2004). Broadcast television networks also grew fairly powerful in some of the other major Latin American countries, such as Argentina, Chile, Colombia, and Venezuela, leading them to create more of their own programming and even export it to other Latin American countries (Roncagliolo, 1996). As a result of domestic developments, like government takeovers of broadcasters in Argentina and Venezuela at different times, some of these producers declined, while others, like Colombia, rose as producers and exporters (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Through all of this, the idea remained fairly constant that Latin American audiences tended to prefer local, national, and regional programming. Among the smallest Latin American countries, like the Dominican Republic (Straubhaar, 1991) or Belize (Oliveira, 1986), the tendency since the 1980s was for them to

18 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

prefer imports from other Latin American countries, especially in prime time for the largest audiences, rather than imports from the United States, which tended to be pushed into less popular time slots in the morning, afternoon, or late evening (Straubhaar, 2007). This helps make sense of a phenomenon that surprised some observers (Reis, 1999): why cable and satellite television penetration of households and audience habits in most of Latin America was relatively low up through the 1990s, especially compared to the boom in pay-TV that took place in much of the world (Europe, Middle East, South, and East Asia) during the 1980s–1990s (Baldwin & McEvoy, 1988; Price, 1999). In most countries and regions, the satellite and cable television booms of the 1980s–1990s served to bring in diversity through channels from abroad. However, in most of Latin America, outside of Argentina and Colombia, whose exceptional cases will be discussed below, the major impact of satellite distribution was the enabling of larger number of rural areas to get good signal for national channels (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Latin America had correspondingly lagged behind in the similar boom of VCRs throughout much of the world in the 1980s, which had enabled audiences in many countries to start bringing entertainment that was missing (to audiences, at least) on national channels. However, Latin American audiences were slow to adopt and buy VCRs, compared to the Middle East, where purchases exploded quickly, in great part due to wider dissatisfaction with national television (Boyd et al., 1989). The common understanding for the low adoption of both VCRs and cable/satellite television was that most Latin American audiences already had access to several broadcast channels of high-quality news and entertainment, based on national production, regional imports, and imports of some of the more interesting U.S. and European programs and films (Boyd et  al., 1989; Reis, 1999; Straubhaar, 2007). In fact, interviews with researchers and managers at MTV Brazil at several points in the 1980s and 1990s revealed that they knew that they were limited to a niche audience by their strategy (then) of primarily programming U.S.—music videos on MTV as a pay-TV channel, with some limited ultrahigh frequency distribution. However, as they saw it at the time, their advertisers were primarily interested in that niche audience, the richest 10–15% of urban Brazilian youth, who as we will argue in Chaps. 4 and 5 have the cultural capital from higher quality education, language education, and travel to really enjoy U.S. programs. So they were waiting for the

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 19

right moment to change their programming and massify their audience, when pay-TV costs came down, more people could afford pay-TV,1 the educated or cosmopolitan audience grew larger, and production costs for adding more Brazilian video content would go down (Straubhaar, interviews at MTV São Paulo, 1989, 1994).

Television Eras in Latin America One of the ways we will be organizing our analysis throughout the book is in terms of eras of television, starting with some attention to the pre-­ history of television in terms of the national systems that media, economic, and cultural systems have fed into it. Then we focus on the initial decade of the 1950s, and on the formative decades of the 1960s–1970s of national TV genres and systems, and some increasingly direct US influence. Then we focus on program maturity and new technological forms of flow (pay­TV), starting in the 1980s and accelerating in the 2000s—all culminating in the current era of streaming TV, starting with the entry of Netflix into Latin America in 2010. Underlying these TV eras are corresponding eras of national economic growth, national media growth, and regional and global expansion of technology and television flows. The other main axis of attention is what happens at the national level, between economic development, nation-state policies, television industries, genres, and producers, as well as the extension of those trends into the audience. Interwoven with that is what US economic trends and models, advertisers, television industries, and genres are doing, on their own, and in their interaction with Latin America. The next most pressing level of analysis is regional, starting with the similarities of state policies and national industry developments across the region. It also includes the flows of producers/writers/directors, as well as scripts and genres from Cuba that began with Fidel Castro, who had recently taken over Cuba, pushing the personnel, genre expertise, and models of the most advanced commercial television system in Latin American out of Cuba and into the rest of the hemisphere, including the Hispanic US. Also key are the flows of shows and of scripts/formats that began to circulate around the regions such as Brazil, Mexico, and others that began to produce and then export television. Finally, there are some influences and movements at a more global level, as 1  From this point on, the authors will use the terms multichannel television and pay-TV interchangeably to refer to a subscription-based television service.

20 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Table 2.1  An overview of trends across times and spaces in Latin American TV 1950s

1960s

1970s

1980s

1990s

2000s

More More countries countries create more create telenovelas genres Some cable Cable flow flow to the to the middle class middle increases class More Colombia exporters rises, Argentina moves to formats One of Present in Korean, Europe, Little export Little export Some Turkish others activity activity export the driverssatellite, melodrama activity of early cable, cable TV pay-TV Comes Grows in National National live National almost all TV limited tosuffers from back, some cities US imports grows in as costs reduce most Exports flow Program Presence US Exports heavily exports in prime limited by time flow distribution heavily reduced technology Regional Mexico, Cuban Regional Cuban professionals program Brazil telenovela dominate flow scripts flow spread to begins others

2010s National shrinks back in Peru, Venezuela Netflix increases flow to the middle class Venezuela out, Colombia rises Transverse flow through Netflix

well as from other regions, including Europe, East Asia, and Turkey. These two axes, over time and over space, are represented in Table 2.1. Television had its Latin American inception in the 1950s and emerged grounded upon an established radio industry, similar to the US model that it drew upon (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Television started as a rare commodity, available to an elite in a few major cities as a prestigious companion to family and community lives, as groups would gather around the living room, presaging “new forms of sociality” (López, 2014). Television was mainly live, with a limited transmission to a few urban centers. Productions were mainly local, with some flow of Cuban (regional) telenovela scripts that were then co-produced locally (Rivero, 2015; Straubhaar, 2011). In the 1960s, with the advent of new and more widely available technology, such as videotaping programs that could be cycled around various stations, television productions expanded their reach. Videotape allowed for US exports to flow into Latin America at increasingly higher rates (Wells, 1972), while technology such as telecommunication networks also allowed for national expansion of television reach. Television expanded further across national territories and became more widely available, even though still highly prestigious and costly. National programming struggled to compete with the heavy imports of the U.S. and other foreign products (Fox, 1975; Wells, 1972).

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 21

By the 1970s, television was more widely available in most Latin American countries, becoming more of a true mass medium. Supported by a wider audience reach, television industries in the region invested in national programming that appealed to the cultural preferences of national audiences (Straubhaar, 1991; Sinclair, 1999). This was a time of experimentation of formats and solidification of genres, particularly the telenovela, with strong national appeals to build national identities. The regional flow of these new products increased (Antola & Rogers, 1984), but US television programs continued to flow to Latin America (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974). Latin American television established itself with strong national productions by the 1980s, promoting local voices with nationally and regionally developed genres, characterized by lower production and distribution costs. Mexican and Brazilian television emerged as lead exporters of regional television flow (Roncagliolo, 1995), while US programming flowing to Latin America started to move off prime time, at least on the main channels (Straubhaar, 1984). It was also during the 1980s that early cable and pay-TV emerged in Latin America, and foreign television access was an early driver of cable adoption. In the 1990s, televenovelas continued to surge as a genre, with additional Latin American countries producing their own versions. In this same decade, cable or pay-TV emerged to change how television was consumed in Latin America, segmenting the audiences by linguistic, economic, and social capital (Straubhaar et  al., 2016), as will be further explained in this book. US programming started gushing through cable television as well and gained popularity in Latin America with middle and upper-middle classes. There was a shrinking of national production in some countries, like Peru and Venezuela, spurred by the economic crises in those countries, by politics in Venezuela, and perhaps from increased competition by pay-TV. The liberalization of several of the largest Latin American economies through the turn of the century brought sweeping change to Latin American television, including major regulatory changes that allowed private national broadcast networks to grow in countries like Colombia, where they had been limited before. The growth of a middle class with the means to subscribe to subscription-based television services (Ferreira et  al., 2012), and the expansion of the Internet, which allowed more massive access to new television services like YouTube, created both the economic and technological bases for a challenge to the meaning of

22 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

television, like that earlier experienced in the US (Lotz, 2007, 2014) and elsewhere. Figure 2.1 illustrates the growth of the middle class in most Latin American countries in the 2001–2011 period. In each of the eight countries, the percentage of the poor declined notably. Meanwhile, the percentage of middle and upper-middle classes grew in each of the eight countries. By 2010, with changes in technology led by Internet penetration and greater digital image quality, streaming services arrived in Latin America and quickly changed the dynamic of television in the region. With Netflix, initially, in the 2010s, there is an increased flow of US products to Latin America, although Netflix also allowed, later on, for Latin American products to flow within the region and internationally. This is why Chap. 6 examines the growth of Internet-based television, YouTube, Amazon, HBO, and particularly Netflix, which moved aggressively into the region in 2011, ahead of the other subscription services, seeming to target the upper-middle class and elites who had cultural and economic capital as well as broadband access. In fact, as Chap. 7 examines, to understand the dynamics of television audiences in Latin America now, we need to dive deeper into the social structure and motives of the audience. We examine upper-middle class and elite audiences in terms of three theoretical explanations (cultural capital and distinction, cultural omnivorousness, and cosmopolitanism) for why they might increasingly be pursuing more international content in pay-TV and streaming services like Netflix.

Putting Latin America in the Context of the Other World Regions and Countries For some researchers, it seems that Latin America has lagged behind some other parts of the world in some aspects of media access and use. The three aspects of media use that seem most crucial for comparison in this book are television, pay-TV, and the Internet. Like Latin America, most other countries have over 90% of people watching television. While some Europeans have more subscriptions to pay-TV, on average, than Latin America, some like Spain have less. Most of these countries have higher Internet penetration than is common in Latin American but Spain, for example, is comparable. In general, though we will find that Internet penetration lags the more developed OECD countries, but resembles other middle-income regions of the world (ITU, 2019).

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 23

A Region of Broadcast Exporters and Importers Most broadcast television markets in Latin America are highly concentrated, with major networks like Televisa in Mexico, TV Globo in Brazil, Clarin in Argentina, and Venevisión in Venezuela dominating their home markets. This concentration, while highly disturbing to reformers, critics, and some regulators, has enabled these same networks in most cases to become powerful producers, producing highly popular, well-produced programs that came to push imports out of most of the broadcast day (Straubhaar, 2007). Most of these same networks, plus Caracol and RCN in Colombia, have also been exporters to the region in at least some phases of their existence. Analysts over the years have noted a top tier of regional exports, usually just Televisa and TV Globo, plus a shifting second tier of exporters that once included Venevision and RCNP—now disbanded (Venezuela), which have now reduced production considerably (Acosta-­ Alzuru, 2015), Clarin and related production companies in Argentina, and recently has featured Caracol and RCN in Colombia (Piñon, 2014; Roncagliolo, 1995). In a new phase, some, such as TV Globo, Clarin, Caracol, and RCN, have also become major co-producers with others in Latin America or with US Hispanic networks like Telemundo. TV Globo and Televisa have also been major global exporters since the 1990s.

Brazil Brazil has seven over-the-air national television networks, which include five private and two public (Obitel, 2019) ones. Broadcast television remains the most-consumed type of media in the country and, despite the wide offerings of other television networks, viewership is highly concentrated among the four major networks (Reporters Without Borders, 2020). Globo continues to dominate the Brazilian broadcast TV market through its general audience single network. The company’s audience share amounted 38% of the audience share, followed far by SBT with 16% and then closely by TV Record, with 15% of the audience share and Bandeirantes, 3% of the market share (primarily male, based on news and sports) (Obitel, 2019; Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). TV Globo grew dramatically since the 1960s to become a major exporter and one of the world’s top broadcasters, and is considered the 25th biggest media corporation in the world (Birkinbine et al., 2016) with revenues estimated at US$5 billion. TV Globo strategy for a long time was

24 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

to concentrate its audience in one channel, but since the 1990s, it has now moved with the growth in the multichannel audience to create a number of pay-TV channels in areas including news, telenovelas, education, national films, children’s programming, and so on (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Even though Globo is still the nation’s absolute leader in television and one of the world’s top broadcasters, its share of the Brazilian market started to lose some ground in the 1990s (Borelli & Priolli, 2000). Although considered hegemonic and, for times, criticized as a quasi-­ monopoly (Hertz, 1987), Globo faces competitors, such as Sistema Brasileira de Televisão (SBT), the number two network run by long-time variety show host, Silvio Santos, which is explicitly targeted at the working class and lower-middle class (Straubhaar, 2007). TV Record, the third-­ largest network, whose majority owner, Edir Macedo, is a billionaire leader of a growing and influential neo-pentecostal church, the Universal Church of the Reign of God (Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus). Since buying the network in 1989, Macedo has been able to grow Record alongside his church, and Record became the second biggest network in earnings and viewership (de Souza Félix & Santi, 2018). Records programming includes religious content, but most of its programming is news or entertainment, including telenovelas that are often quite popular. Building on the relative economic stability of the early 2000s, pay-TV grew and expanded into the middle class, as we will explore in Chap. 5. A major shock for the pay-TV industry occurred when the largest national operators succumbed to debt and were forced to sell their systems to foreign firms. In 2012 Embratel—formerly the state long-distance monopoly, then privatized, and now a property of the Mexican telecommunications juggernaut América Móvil—took over Net Brasil, which used to be Globo’s largest pay-TV service in terms of the number of subscribers. This acquisition turned América Móvil into the largest pay-TV operator in Brazil—and all of Latin America—almost overnight (Sutherland, 2011), despite the fact that Mexican law bars the company from operating television services in its home country. In a parallel move, Editora Abril sold its cable assets in 2011 to Telefónica of Spain, which is now the second-­ largest provider in Brazil, with growing assets in other Latin American countries as well. Even after losing Net Brasil, Grupo Globo continues to play a visible role in the Brazilian pay-TV service industry as a minority partner in the Sky/DIRECTV alliance, which in 2014 still had the second-­ largest share of pay-TV subscribers in the country (ABTA, 2014). More recently, the economic recession, alongside broadband capabilities, has sped up the process of cutting subscriptions.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 25

Mexico A high concentration of the broadcast market is especially prominent in Mexico, where up to 2014, Televisa and Televisión Azteca together commanded over 95% of the market through their nationwide over-the-air networks (El Economista, 2014). Looking to break the long-standing duopoly of TV Azteca and Televisa, the Mexican federal government announced in 2014 that it would authorize the creation of two new national over-the-air television networks. In 2016, Imagen TV was the first commercial network to operate in Mexico after the 1993 privatization of Imevision, now TV Azteca (Economía Hoy, 2016). Then Multimedios TV started national transmissions in 2018 (Multimedios, 2018). However, the two new networks make up for less than 12% of the market share (Economía Hoy, 2018). In the last ten years, Televisa has consolidated its hold of the Mexican pay-TV field by acquiring several of the largest regional cable companies (Harrison, 2013) and establishing informal alliances with the largest remaining independent cable operator Megacable. Mexico has a total of ten over-the-air national networks, the privately owned Televisa, TV Azteca, Imagen TV, and Multimedios, and three public networks: Once TV, Conaculta, and Una Voz Con Todos. In Mexico, Televisa and TV Azteca, for decades commanded over 95% of the TV broadcast market (El Economista, 2014). Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto approved a telecommunication reform in 2013, that among other things included opening the bidding for two national over-the-air private networks and eliminating barriers for foreign investment in the sector. The reform resulted in the consolidation of two new national networks, Imagen TV and Multimedios TV, and the arrival of AT&T (Forbes México, 2017). While Imagen TV and Multimedios TV are now competing with TV Azteca and Televisa, the market remains highly concentrated. Five companies share 66% of over-the-air TV. Televisa (259) and TV Azteca (179) remain giants with more than half of all local TV stations (53%). Followed by Grupo Imagen (46), Telsulsa (31) and Grupo Multimedios (19) who together only make for 12.3% of the market (Economía Hoy 2018). Between Multimedios, Televisa, and TV Azteca, they operate about 411 local TV stations around the country (Obitel, 2019). On the one hand, one of the newly added networks, Multimedios TV, which originated in the industrial Northern metropolitan city of Monterrey where it

26 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

operated for 20 years before going national, reached 46 million viewers (Franco et  al., 2019). On the other hand, the American AT&T who announced it would invest $3000 million in Mexico (Forbes México 2017) had to partner with the Spanish Telefonica to compete with Carlos Slim’s America Movil who still holds nearly two-thirds of mobile lines in Mexico (Love, 2019). In spite of the 2013 reform, the two telecommunication companies have struggled to fight Slim’s monopoly. Multichannel penetration remains strong in Mexico where for every 100 homes, 67 have access to it. The main competitor as of 2018 was Izzi, owned by Televisa, claiming 30% of total pay-TV subscriptions in the country, followed by Sky (also owned by Televisa) with 20%, Megacable with 17%, and Dish with 17% (Franco et  al. 2019). Scholars in Mexico (Franco et  al. 2019) indicate the formula for telenovelas is starting to change. In 2018, telenovelas tend to have fewer episodes, while producers and creators favored the “super series” or telenovelas with less than 80 episodes. The authors argue these recent changes might be linked to the VoD logic. In that same vein, TV Azteca, the second most important network in the country, announced they will stop producing telenovelas claiming that audiences have changed. The network is now investing more time and money in reality shows including Máster Chef and La Voz Mexico. The broadcast of regional telenovelas in Mexico also declined since TV Azteca and Imagen TV stopped exhibiting Brazilian telenovelas. Imagen TV started to add Turkish telenovelas to its programming (Obitel, 2019). Netflix has a strong presence in Mexico where it has produced successful TV shows like Luis Miguel, El Chapo, Club de Cuervos, Ingobernable, and La Casa de las Flores. In 2018, Mexico was the second country, after the United States, where Netflix produced the most original content.

Argentina Argentina presents a special case in the history of broadcasting in Latin America. The nationalization of broadcast television producing stations and networks by the Peronist government in 1974 restricted the growth of the television field, which in its early years followed a commercial orientation similar to that in other Latin American countries (Galperin, 2000). The military governments that expelled Peron by a coup in 1967 maintained the nationalization of television stations until their exit in 1983. It was reprivatized by a new government in 1984, but the delayed expansion

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 27

of broadcast TV in Argentina, along with the obstacles posed by the country’s topography forced many households to use cable services to gain access to TV channels. Thus, multichannel television in Argentina had a considerably larger user base than other countries in Latin America, even before the explosion of multichannel and pay-TV in the region (Bulla, 2009). Two major players dominate national broadcast television: the multi-­ media conglomerate Grupo Clarín, owner and operator of Canal 13, and Spain-based telecommunications powerhouse Telefónica, which runs Telefe. In 2012, both networks controlled up to 64% of the market (Boas, 2012). Based on steady increases in production and export, Argentina joined several other Latin American countries as “new exporters,” (Sinclair, 2020). With the growth of pay-TV, which started from a high base, pay­TV grew slowly until 2014 in Argentina, helped change the patterns of TV imports, and stimulated new content production arrangements. Clarín, for example, joined forces with independent producers Polka and Ideas del Sur (Becerra et  al., 2014). Mexico and Brazil remain the biggest exporters and producers of Latin American television programming, but in recent years, Argentina and Colombia are increasingly prominent in producing and exporting telenovelas and unscripted formats, such as game shows and reality TV (Sinclair, 2004).

Colombia Colombia was another country in which state control delayed the development of a commercial broadcast industry with major networks. The country had a mixed system for the allocation of broadcast licenses, in which the National Television Authority (Autoridad Nacional de Televisión, or ANTV) owned all transmission facilities for the only two television channels with national coverage, and assigned or rented individual airtime shares to private production companies (Arango Forero et  al., 2010). This scheme prevented private media concentration and growth of TV networks with a strong identity like Televisa or Globo until the 1990s. Initial privatization in 1966 failed, but liberalized competition began with regional networks in 1984. The consolidation of this period gave way to the emergence of a Colombian style of telenovelas, whose national style included irony and humor and a Colombian identity (Piñon, 2014). Some hugely successful telenovelas, such as Yo Soy Betty, La Fea paved the way

28 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

to the increasing international viewership of Colombian television (Piñon, 2014). Colombia became a hub for telenovela production catering to the Latinx audience in the US as well as the regional market (Piñon, 2014). After the national government reformed the broadcasting law in 1998, permitting fully privatized network ownership, the private media conglomerates RCN and Caracol received licenses to operate the two national channels for ten years. With the maturing television industry and in an effort toward less dependency on the state, the Colombian industry pushed to an international market and partnership expansion (Piñon, 2014). RCN and Caracol have established international alliances to distribute and co-produce fiction content: the former with Televisa and Univision, and the latter with Telemundo (Arango et al., 2009). In 2008, the licenses were renewed for another ten years (Arango-­ Forero, 2013). Colombia currently has five over-the-air national television networks, the private Caracol (48.20% of audience share), RCN (18.11% of audience share), Canal Uno (6.71% of audience share) and the two public Señal Colombia (4.45%) and Canal Institucional (0.93%) (Obitel, 2019). In this same period, pay-TV growth continued strongly, surpassing the penetration rate of Argentina, reaching over 90% penetration, which is higher than the U.S. So habits of searching for programming in a non-­ national network environment, that grew prior to 1998, coupled with strong economic growth, seem to have established pay-TV penetration at a level very unusual by Latin American standards. Concerned TV distributors attribute this incredible penetration rate to rampant piracy and informal cable services, but various serious providers also were attracted to the growingly stable market.

Venezuela Venezuela developed one of the strongest broadcasting systems in the region in the second half of the twentieth century. The conglomerates that led the field for most of its history—the Cisneros and Phelps/Granier groups—not only produced and exported Venezuelan fiction to other countries in the region but were also involved in some of the first region-­ wide multichannel initiatives (Gibens, 2009; Duarte, 2001). Over the following decades, the country developed a strong television production system, becoming one of the world’s largest producers and exporters of telenovelas.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 29

For most of the history of Venezuelan broadcasting, two family-­ controlled conglomerates dominated the TV field: the Cisneros Group, owner of Venevisión, and the Phelps/Granier Group, controller of RCTV (Gibens, 2009). However, in the 2000s, the field underwent a significant reconfiguration when the contentious relationship between the national government and the RCTV led to the cancelation of its broadcasting license by President Chavez in 2007. RCTV’s share of the spectrum was then used by the Venezuelan government for a new public station called Televisora Venezolana Social, or TVes (Gibens, 2009; El Universal, 2014). Venevisión was forced to curtail or modify any programming considered oppositional. This had a tremendous impact on national production and audience interest in it, with telenovela production falling to less than one a year and Venezuela turning to import telenovelas from others (Acosta-­ Alzuru, 2015). Venezuelan broadcasting companies were closely involved in some of the first initiatives to establish pan-regional pay-TV channels and services. For example, the Cisneros Group was one of the key players in the expansion of DIRECTV to Latin America (Duarte, 2001) and at one point the Phelps/Granier group operated Gems, a regional cable channel aimed at women (Gibens, 2009). Back in the 1990s, HBO had its first foray into Latin America through a partnership with Omnivision, a Venezuelan cable provider that resulted in the launch of HBO Olé (Guilder, 1991). According to the most recent available data, DTH satellite subscriptions account for two-thirds of pay-TV users in the country, with operators DIRECTV and Cantv as market leaders (Conatel, n.d.-a). Other multichannel operators highlighted by the government in its industry statistics are Cablevision, Telefónica, and Netuno (Conatel, n.d.-b). The recent decline in cable penetration and relatively stagnant satellite dish growth is the result of the country’s economic isolation and social unrest, leading to a crisis that has led millions of Venezuelans to seek refuge abroad. Within this scenario, the former regional powerhouse is now facing low production of fiction and facing a recession of its IT department (Obitel, 2017). Venezuela has eight private national networks channels and seven public network channels, which includes the international channel Telesur, aimed at other Latin American countries (Obitel, 2017).

30 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Chile The majority of the media conglomerates in Chile are owned and operated by some of the most politically and economically powerful families in Chile and by North American companies. Red Televisiva Megavisión or MEGA, which represents 23% of the market share, is owned by the Chilean Bethia Group and Discovery Communications (Plant & de la Maza, 2016). Chilevisión or CHV, which holds a 22% market share, was bought in 2010 by Warner Media from the University of Chile (TV En Serio, 2018). Likewise, Canal 13—which accounts for a 21% market share—was owned and operated by the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile since 1959; however, in 2010, the network was bought by one of the most powerful consortiums in Chile, the Luksic Group (La Tercera, 2017). One feature that has distinguished the Chilean television industry from the rest of Latin America was the strength of its State-owned network, Televisión Nacional de Chile (TVN). TVN was the country’s ratings leader for 20 years. However, in 2015, the network started to dramatically lose its audience ratings. The audience for TVN telenovelas was particularly low. The financial situation of the State network became increasingly dire, as the government approved $47 millions in 2018 to help the network out of its financial crisis (Diario Financiero, 2018). Eventually in 2020, TVN initiated a sale process to sell their studios for $88 millions, which prompted a series of discussions in the parliament to prevent the future privatization of the network (Rodriguez, 2020). As the penetration of multichannel television has increased in Chile, its market has become increasingly competitive. Since its merger with cable operator Metropolis Intercom in 2005, telecommunications provider VTR has held the largest share of the market through the last decade (Benavidez et al., 2009). As of 2019, multichannel penetration in Chile was at 57% with 3.3 million subscribers. However, that entails a 1.3% declined from 2018. Actually, pay TV has been declining since 2015 when it reached its peak (Obitel, 2019). The companies with the biggest market share of pay-TV subscriptions are VTR with 33%, DirecTV with 21%, and Movistar with 18% (Plataformas, 2019). National TV productions in Chile have been declining for the last five years, with 28 new productions in 2014 and only 17 in 2018, including a decline in the number of telenovela productions. Interestingly, Turkish melodramas have increased popularity accounting for 41% of television

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 31

exhibit time. Telenovelas remain dominant in Chile where they represent 74% of the content in TV where 48% national productions and 52% from the rest of Latin America (Obitel, 2019).

Peru The Peruvian broadcast industry developed in the second half of the twentieth century and was strongly influenced by the intervention of the state. From the introduction of television in the 1950s and until the liberalization of the field in the 1990s, successive regimes—both authoritarian and democratic—strove to pursue nationalistic and “third world” perspectives to broadcasting planning and regulation (Fox, 1997). The constant involvement of the state and the related instability of the relationship between private broadcasters and the national government prevented the appearance of private broadcasters of the scale of Globo or Televisa (Fox, 1997). Thus, by the 2000s, Peru had one of the most fragmented television markets in the region (Boas, 2012). There are six over-the-air TV networks with national coverage in Peru, all of which are based in Lima: Latina, América Televisión, Panamericana Televisión, ATV, América Next, and the only public network, TV Perú. América Televisión and Latina have the biggest ratings and market share with 23% and 14% of the market share, respectively. As far as genre preferences for television go, fiction tops the list of preferences with 36% followed by informative with 30%. (Obitel, 2019). In 2018 the top ten most-watched programs were telenovelas, soap operas, and miniseries, including two Mexican productions (La Rosa de Guadalupe, La Jeja del Campeon), and one Brazilian (Justicia); however, the favorites remained Peruvian productions. Interestingly, Turkish melodramas have been growing in popularity in the last few years. As of 2018, Movistar, owned by the Spanish company Telefónica, had the biggest share of multichannel subscribers followed by Claro TV, a subsidiary of the Mexican América Móvil, and DirecTV. Like in many other competitive media markets in Latin America, most Peruvian national networks have a VoD platform including América TVGO, Latina Play, ATV Play, TV Perú App, Panamericana App, and Willax YouTube. Also available in Peru are HBO Go, Fox Play, Fox Latinoamerica, Fox Sports, ESPN Play, Movistar Plus, Claro Video, Movistar Play, DirecTV, Netflix, Amazon, Apple TV, and Instagram TV (Obitel, 2019). Penetration of multichannel TV in Peru has been slowly on the rise since 2005, with 3 million subscribers in

32 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

2019, representing a 35% penetration rate including a less than 1% growth from 2018. The numbers reflect a decade of sustained growth, which dovetailed with the modernization of the country’s media since the 1990s. During the 1990s, the federal government introduced a series of reforms to the media licensing and regulations dealings, opening the sector and streamlining the licensing of cable providers. The reforms proved effective in accelerating the licensing for legal cable operations throughout Peru leading to a growing field (Peirano, 2002).

Ecuador Television technology arrived in Ecuador in 1959 by the hand of the Evangelical Church with the intent to evangelize the country (Ortíz León & Suing, 2019). Prior to the Presidency of Rafael Correa in 2007, most broadcast media were privately owned with the national government controlling only a handful of radio stations with few regulations monitoring content (Ortiz & Suing, 2016). Correa’s administration moved to create a national public television network, called Ecuador TV. The following year, the government confiscated assets of conglomerate Group Isaias placing two additional networks—TC Television and Gama TV—under the control of the state (Jordan & Panchana, 2009). In line with Correa’s democratic socialist policies, in 2013 he enacted the Organic Law of Communication. The law required that national broadcasting should reach at least 30% of the country’s population. The new communication regulation—which political adversaries deemed as gag law—required 60% of all television content to be national productions as well as 50% of all music broadcasted in radio stations. Likewise, national mass media companies could not be owned by foreign companies or non-­ citizens (Notimérica, 2017). The law also prohibited international advertising. Two years after the law came into effect, about 200 media companies were economically sanctioned for not complying with the code. However, in 2019, President Lenín Moreno (in office since 2017) reformed Correa’s communication law promising to sell all the media companies that were confiscated back to the private sector. Another major reform included changing the definition of communication from “a public service” to “a human right” (OBSERVACOM, 2020). Yet, as of 2020, Gamavisión (formerly GAMA TV) and TC Televisión were still owned by the State but operated under a commercial structure (Primicias, 2020).

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 33

Ecuador was the only other market to present pay-TV penetration rates below the average for the region. In fact, of the eight countries with TGI data, which we are focusing on, it is still the one with the lowest penetration rate, despite growing from just 11.5% in 2004 to 35% in 2014. Most of this growth happened in the early 2010s, following macro-economic prosperity trends that are dwindling in recent years. After the peak in 2014, pay-TV subscription in Ecuador started declining to 22% in 2020 (ARCOTEL, 2020). Most broadcast television stations belong to one of the five largest private networks with national coverage—Red Telesistema (RTS), Ecuavisa, Canal Uno, Telerama, and RTU—or to the three networks currently owned by the Ecuadorian government: Ecuador TV, TC Television, and Gama TV (Jordan & Panchana, 2009). National programming in Ecuador consists mainly of newscasts, telenovelas, and TV series, which are mainly imported (Ortiz et al., 1988).

Audience Television Preferences Sample and Methods This study makes a secondary analysis of data from the TGI Latina survey. This is a media and product consumption study conducted yearly in eight Latin American countries by the Miami-based marketing intelligence firm Kantar Media, with fieldwork by Instituto Brasileiro de Opinião Pública e Estatística (IBOPE) and related research companies. The rich amount of data provided by the TGI Latina survey allows for a comprehensive look at demographic, attitudinal, and structural factors that are related to media use habits, including the possession of multichannel television versus broadcast television, the increasing use of Internet-based television, the choice of national versus other kinds of programming, choices among television genres, and the development of new kinds of television viewers and users, by age, by class (both wealth and education), by language knowledge and use, and by more or less cosmopolitan attitudes toward television and other forms of communication. The longitudinal nature of the data, from 2004 to 2014, also affords the research team with an opportunity to better understand emerging class formations and their television viewing without engaging in the expense of a series of broad multinational surveys. The TGI LatinaS survey covers eight Latin American countries: Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela. This selection includes

34 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

the seven largest countries in South America, as well as Mexico—home to the largest Spanish-speaking market in the world. The samples designed for each of the studied countries are varied. While some are close to being nationally representative samples, as in the case of Mexico, available data from other countries can have a more limited—yet comprehensive—coverage (see the Methodological Appendix for more details about each country’s sample). Most countries’ samples are of major metropolitan areas, plus some particularly important regions. For example, the Brazil sample is based on eight major metropolitan areas plus a number of smaller cities in the State of São Paulo, with greater purchasing power and access to media. While this study may have to pay much less attention to new segments in rural areas or some smaller cities, thanks to the method of data collection, its results should be indicative of social phenomena in the major metropolitan areas in Latin America, which represent 60–80% of the populations of these countries. Moreover, cities may play an important role in the formation of what the Ferreira et al. (2012) terms the new middle class, thanks to their larger spheres of formal employment and opportunities for consumption. For researchers interested in issues of social stratification, using market-research data may provide an opportunity to examine populations too difficult or expensive to survey. However, one very important qualification or limit in using these data is that while we can get a good sense of major metropolitan areas, we are not getting a true national sample. The reader needs to be very careful to not think of these data as representing all of the nations covered, just their major metropolitan areas, which will be more prosperous, more educated, and will have more access to new technologies like broadband Internet. The surveys used for this study were conducted door-to-door with a combination of interviews and, in the case of the parallel study of the principal shopper in each home, a paper survey left behind by the interviewer. Interviewers followed a skip pattern for sampling that was based on the physical location of respondents’ homes. Since response rates were low among some important demographic groups—particularly high SES households—TGI Latina weighted the responses to better represent the overall population. Although the 2013 sample has so far been the largest, all the samples for the various years were very large, surpassing 10,000 respondents. All of the cross-tabs we generated for analysis were significant at either the P>0.05 or the P >0.01 level, estimated by calculating the chi-square

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 35

statistic. While there is the possibility of an overestimation of statistical significance due to the size of the sample, the focus of the analysis and interpretation of results will focus on the most illustrative relationships. As TGI Latina data shows, the first decade of the twenty-first century brought a tipping point for the explosion of the multichannel and pay-TV services in Latin America (Fig.  2.1). For all the eight studied countries taken together, the penetration of subscription-based television grew at a reasonably steady pace of 3% a year between 2004 and 2014, with a slight surge in the latter years propelled by macro-economic improvements throughout the region. The overall penetration doubled, going from 28% in 2004 to 55% a decade later. TGI Latina data also breaks down multichannel television into cable and satellite, parabolic and other digital television services, compared to 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004

2005 PAN

2006 ARG

2007 BRA

2008

2009

2010

CHI

COL

ECU

2011 MEX

2012 PER

2013

2014

VEN

Fig. 2.1  Multichannel penetration by country in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela, 2003–2014. (Source: TGI Latina)

36 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

regular broadcast television. While cable faced a sustained growth rate that plateaued after 2010, satellite television seems to have had a significant increase around the same time, which seems to be linked to the growth of the new lower-middle class, often outside cable coverage areas. By the end of the period, satellite service was the means for getting pay-TV in one-­ third of the multichannel households. It was during the DTH TV revolution that Televisa and Globo’s ventures into pay-TV became intertwined. Both companies, in a partnership with Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation, participated in the establishment of Sky México and Sky Brazil, the most powerful directto-home (DTH) satellite service in their respective countries. After almost two decades of accelerated growth, DTH television services accounted for a plurality of pay-TV subscriptions in both Brazil and Mexico in 2014, according to figures from regulatory agencies in both countries (ABTA, 2014; Fig. 2.2). During the ten years studied, subscription-based television services in Brazil, Mexico, and most of Latin America grew from utilitarian beginnings, as distributors of domestic broadcasters’ contents to isolated regions far from the major urban centers (Crovi, 1999; Possebon, 2008), to becoming the epicenter of intense competition by the regions’ major players in the age of Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) convergence and more stringent regulations (Gómez & Sosa, 2010; Crovi, 2006). Except for Argentina and Colombia (discussed below), the expansion of pay-TV in most countries was characterized by a slow, gradual start, concentrated in a few select markets—such as the U.S. border area

40%

Cable Satellite

35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0%

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

Fig. 2.2  Cable, satellite, and non-multichannel households in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela, 2004–2014. (Source: TGI Latina)

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 37

in Mexico,2 and scattered urban areas in Brazil—followed by a maturation process that started with the entry of media giants Televisa in Mexico, TV Globo and publishing house Editora Abril in Brazil, and Venevisión (Venezuela), which was then probably the third most powerful network in Latin America (Possebon, 2009). This maturation process also included the direct participation of international providers such as DIRECTV and Sky, first as competitors, then as partners with the local companies noted above. This stage also led to the incursion of foreign—mostly American—media companies, which started with English language channels, but gradually dubbed more channels, and eventually launched more fully adapted and culturally proximate Latin American versions of properties such as the Discovery Channel, HBO, and MTV (Duarte, 2001). With the largest populations in Latin America and the largest Hispanic and Lusophone media markets in the world, Mexico and Brazil host vibrant broadcast television markets, marked by the dominance of two of the largest multi-media conglomerates in the Western hemisphere: Televisa and Globo. The development of both companies as virtual monopolies throughout most of the second half of the twentieth century has resulted in highly concentrated broadcast TV markets in both countries, although the sector started to become slightly more competitive over the last couple of decades. The powerful local media conglomerates managed to hold back multichannel development below the regional average. Brazil started from a low penetration of roughly 15% in 2004 to surpass Mexico in 2014, with 48.2% compared to 43.7%. Only in Ecuador, a similar restrained growth was observed. The countries growing above the regional average included Chile, Peru, and even Venezuela, despite its economic woes. Peru, on the other hand, more than doubled its rate of multichannel households during the last decade, from around 30% to almost 70% in 2014, a reflection of its status as the fastest-­ growing economy in Latin America (Vera & Wong, 2013). Argentina always maintained a historically higher penetration of pay-TV, and Colombia outgrew all others to become the top multichannel market in Latin America. The evolution of multichannel TV in Argentina and 2  The first cable provider in Mexico was established in 1954 in the city of Nogales, Sonora, where it provided American programming to U.S. citizens living south of the border with Arizona (Crovi, 1996; Sánchez Ruiz, 1991). Pay-TV did not reach a major metropolitan area until the first cable license was granted to a Monterrey-based company in 1964.

38 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Colombia, nations with a fragmented television industry, with high involvement by the state, tells yet another story. Taking the previous into consideration, it is not at all surprising that both Argentina and Colombia developed a large user base for multichannel television much earlier than the other Latin American countries. By the start of the period studied in this volume, in 2004, both nations had a penetration of multichannel television (both cable and DTH) larger than 50%. After taking part in the growth that characterized most of the region during the 2000s, both countries reached 2014 with pay-TV rates amounting to more than three-fourths of the studied population, over 90% in the case of Colombia.

The Impact of Streaming Television The era of streaming TV in Latin America is marked by the ingress of Netflix in the early 2010s. This era is enabled by the regional growth of Internet access. In the early 2000s, according to data on the eight Latin American countries analyzed here (ITU, 2019), Internet penetration in the region averaged 5%. By the 2010s, when Netflix entered Latin America, that average increased to almost 40%. In that timeframe, streaming television was still a relatively novel approach to accessing television but with the relatively economic stability in the region in the following few years, it grew in adoption. Netflix brought together television and cinema over the Internet and developed a distribution model that allowed for expansion of foreign content to Latin America (Heredia, 2017). Later on, increasing content production in Latin America, included its cultural products in Netflix’s catalogue for international distribution. Netflix was joined by other streaming services that are transforming Latin American television. Those include other US subscription services like Prime TV (and Disney+ joining soon), transnational (pay per item viewed or downloaded) services like iTunes, and TV Everywhere services (Internet service offered to existing pay-TV customers) by US pay-TV channels like HBO and Discovery Kids. There are streaming services from major telecom providers like América Movil/TelMex (Mexico) and Telefonica (Spain), major national television broadcasters like TV Globo (Brazil) and Televisa (Mexico), free or ad-supported streaming services like YouTube (U.S.) or SBT (Brazil), and some independent and niche services within the region.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 39 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

Argenna

Brazil 2000

Chile 2005

Colombia 2010

Ecuador 2015

Mexico

Peru

Venezuela

2020

Fig. 2.3  Percentage of population using the internet in Latin America 2000–2020

By 2020, Internet penetration had reached 72% of the population in our studied countries. As Fig. 2.3 shows, Argentina leads, with almost 90% internet penetration, and Peru remains considerably lower, at 57%. Increasingly, audiences around the world seem to be turning to mobile broadband to watch streaming television. While mobile is an increasingly important means of communication and internet access in Latin America, the majority of Latin Americans still access the internet through their desktops, 57% of those from the eight countries studied here access the internet through desktops, while 36% access through mobile devices (Statista, 2020). Mobile broadband remains expensive in most Latin American countries, which limits its use for streaming. An important characteristic of Netflix and other streaming services is the potential to be accessed through multiple devices. However, users currently prefer watching it through their televisions, at home, with the majority of users doing so (Kafka, 2018). This may be due to the quality of data service on mobile

40 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 0

2017

2018 Lan America

2019

2020

Global Regional Average

Fig. 2.4  Mobile data traffic in exabytes per month. (Source: https://www. statista.com/statistics/292859/north-­america-­mobile-­data-­traffic/#statisticCont ainer)

devices but could also be due to Latin American culture of watching television with others, as a social event. Figure 2.4 shows how mobile data traffic in Latin America falls far below the global regional average.

References ABTA. (2014). Dados do sector. Retrieved from http://www.abta.com.br/ dados_do_sector.asp Acosta-Alzuru, C. (2015). De protagonista a extra: La telenovela venezolana. Paper presented at the ALAIC, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Antola, A., & Rogers, E.  M. (1984). Television flows in Latin America. Communication Research, 11(2), 183–202. Arango-Forero, G. (2013). Comunicación digital: una propuesta de análisis desde el pensamiento complejo. Palabra clave, 16(3), 673–697.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 41

Arango Forero, G., Arango, M., Llaña, L., & Serrano, M. (2010). Colombian media in the XXI century: The re-conquest by foreign investment. Palabra Clave, 13(1), 59–76. Arango, G., Gutierrez, L., Forero, A., Valderrama, J., Prada, R., Barrera, L. C., & Guzman de Reyes, A. (2009). The media in Colombia. In A. Albarran (Ed.), Handbook of Spanish language media (pp. 63–76). Routledge. ARCOTEL. (2020). Subscripciones de TV Paga. [Excel spreadsheet]. Retrieved from https://www.arcotel.gob.ec/servicio-­suscripcion-­television-­pagada/ Baldwin, T., & McEvoy, S. (1988). Cable communication. Prentice Hall. Becerra, M., Mastrini, G., & Waisbord, S. (2014). Television in Latin America: From commercialism to reform? In The SAGE handbook of television ­studies, 36–49. Beck, U. (2002). The cosmopolitan society and its enemies. Theory, Culture & Society, 19(1–2), 17–44. https://doi.org/10.1177/026327640201900101 Beltran, L. R. (1978). TV etchings in the minds of Latin Americans: Conservatism, materialism and conformism. Gazette, 24(1), 61–65. Beltran, L. R., & Fox de Cardona, E. (1980). Comunicacion dominada: Estados Unidos en los medios de America Latina. Mexico, DF: Instituto Latinoamericano de Estudios Transnacionales: Editorial Nueva Imagen. Benavides, O. H. (2008). Drugs, thugs, and divas: Telenovelas and Narco-dramas in Latin America. University of Texas Press. Benavidez, C., Errázuriz, M. I., Kimber, D., Santa, M., & I., & van Weezel, A. (2009). The Chilean media landscape. In A. Albarrán (Ed.), The handbook of Spanish language media (pp. 139–150). Routledge. Birkinbine, B., Gómez, R., & Wasko, J. (2016). Global media giants. Routledge. Boas, T. (2012). Mass media and politics in Latin America: Constructing democratic governance in Latin America. In J.  Dominguez & M.  Shiffer (Eds.), Constructing democratic governance in Latin America (4th ed.). Johns Hopkins University Press. Bolaño, C. (1999). A economia política da televisão brasileira. Revista Latina de Comunicación Social, 17. Retrieved from http://www.ull.es/publicaciones/ latina/a1999hmy/98cesar.htm Bolaño, C., Mastrini, G., & Sierra Caballero, F. (2005). Economía política, comunicación y conocimiento: una perspectiva crítica latinoamericana. Junta de Andalucía, España. Borelli, S. H. S., & Priolli, G. (2000). A deusa ferida: Por que a Rede Globo não é mais a campeã absoluta de audiência. Summus Editorial. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A social critique of the judgment of taste (R. Nice, Trans.). Harvard University Press. Boyd, D. A., Straubhaar, J. D., & Lent, J. (1989). The videocassette recorder in the third world. Longman.

42 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Boyd-Barrett, O. (1977). Media imperialism: Towards an international framework for the analysis of media systems. In J. E. A. Curran (Ed.), Mass communication and society. Arnold. Boyd-Barrett, O., & Mirrlees, T. (Eds.). (2019). Media Imperialism: Continuity and Change. Rowman & Littlefield. Bulla, G. (2009). Televisión argentina en los 60: la consolidación de un negocio de largo alcance. Mucho ruido, pocas leyes. Economía y políticas de comunicación en la Argentina (1920–2007), 2, 117–137. Canclini, N. G. (1995). Hybrid cultures: Strategies for entering and leaving modernity. University of Minnesota Press. Cardoso, F. H. (1973). Associated dependent-development: Theoretical and practical implications. In A.  Stephan (Ed.), Authoritarian Brazil. Yale University Press. Carter, E. L. (2018). Reimagining Brazilian television: Luiz Fernando Carvalho’s contemporary vision. University of Pittsburgh Press. Collins, R. (1986). Wall-to-wall Dallas? The US-UK trade in television. Screen (May–August), 66–77. Conatel. (n.d.-a). Cifras del sector telecomunicaciones, III trimestre 2014. Comisión Nacional de Telecomunicaciones. Conatel. (n.d.-b). Principales empresas operadoras de telecomunicaciones por atributo o servicio, año 2013 [Excel spreadsheet]. Comisión Nacional de Telecomunicaciones. Crovi, D. (1996). La industria de la TV por cable en México, antecendentes y perspectivas. Desarrollo de la industrias audiovisuales de México y Canadá. México: UNAM, FCPyS. Crovi, D. (2006). De las señales de televisión a la convergencia tecnológica: La televisión por cable en México. Telos, 69, 41–49. Dagnino, E. (1973). Cultural and ideological dependence: Building a theoretical framework. In F. Bonilla & R. Girling (Eds.), Structures of dependency. Stanford University Press. de Souza Félix, J., & Santi, V. J. (2018). O Uso da Mídia Televisiva por Grupos e Instituições Religiosas no Brasil: Uma Análise da Atuação da IURD Na Rede Record. Aturá-Revista Pan-Amazônica De Comunicação, 2(2), 245–260. Diario Financiero. (2018). Problemas para TVN: Gobierno objeta plan de inversiones en recta final para entregar recursos. Retrieved from https://www.df.cl/ noticias/empresas/actualidad/problemas-­para-­tvn-­gobierno-­objeta-­plan-­de-­ inversiones-­y-­autorizaria-­la/2018-­10-­08/203830.html Dorfman, A., & Mattelart, A. (1972). Para leer al pato Donald. Siglo XXI. dos Santos, S. (2006). E-Sucupira: o Coronelismo Eletrônico como herança do Coronelismo nas comunicações brasileiras. In E-Compós (Vol. 7). Duarte, L. G. (2001). Due south: American television ventures into Latin America: Telecommunications. Michigan State University. PhD.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 43

Duarte, L.  G. (2009). The cable empire strikes Latin America: How American Pay-TV conquered the continent. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. Duarte, L.  G., & Straubhaar, J. (2004). Adapting U.S. transnational television channels to a complex world: From cultural imperialism to localization to hybridization. In J.  Challaby (Ed.), Transnational television worldwide. I.B. Tauris. Economía Hoy. (2016). Imagen Televisión, competencia de Televisa y TV Azteca, llega el 17 de octubre. Retrieved from https://www.economiahoy.mx/ telecomunicacion-­t ecnologia-­m x/noticias/7850975/09/16/Imagen-­ Television-­competencia-­de-­Televisa-­y-­TV-­Azteca-­llega-­el-­17-­de-­octubre-­.html Economía Hoy. (2018). Televisa y Azteca siguen acaparando más del 50% de concesiones de tv abierta. Retrieved from https://www.economiahoy.mx/ sinembargo/noticias/9514202/11/18/Televisa-­y -­A zteca-­s iguen-­ acaparando-­mas-­del-­50-­de-­concesiones-­de-­tv-­abierta-­.html El Economista. (2014, April 16). Nuevas televisoras tendrán 8.5% del mercado. Retrieved from https://www.eleconomista.com.mx/industrias/2014/04/16/ nuevas-­televisoras-­tendran-­85-­mercado El Universal. (2014, May 27). Hace siete años salió del aire RCTV. El Universal. Retrieved from https://ipysvenezuela.org/2014/05/27/el-­universal-­hace-­ siete-­anos-­salio-­del-­aire-­rctv/ Evans, P. B. (1979). Dependent development: The alliance of multinational, state, and local capital in Brazil (Vol. 487). Princeton University Press. Fejes, F. (1981). Media imperialism: An assessment. Media, Culture and Society, 3(3), 281–289. Fernández, C., & Paxman, A. (2001). El Tigre: Emilio Azcárraga y su imperio Televisa (edición revisada ed.). Grijalbo Mondadori. Ferreira, F. H., Messina, J., Rigolini, J., López-Calva, L. F., Lugo, M. A., & Vakis, R. (2012). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. World Bank Publications. Forbes México. (2017). Telecomunicaciones crecieron gracias a reforma: Peña Nieto. Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com.mx/pena-­nieto-­destaca-­ crecimiento-­las-­telecomunicaciones-­gracias-­reforma/ Fox, E. (1975). Multinational Television. Journal of Communication, 25(2), 122–127. Fox, E. (1992). Cultural dependency thrice revisited. Paper presented at the International Association for Mass Communication Research, Guarujá, Brazil. Fox, E. (1997). Latin American broadcasting: From tango to telenovela. University of Luton Press. Franco, D., Gómez, G., & Orozco, G. (2019). México: Apertura a la diversidad de género, fandoms y la consolidación de las plataformas VoDr. In M. I. Vasallo de Lopez & G.  Orozco (Eds.), OBITEL 2019: Modelos de Distribución de la Televisión por internet: Actores, Tecnologías, Estrategias (pp. 249–283). Globo Comunicação e Participações S.A.

44 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fuchs, C. (2010). New imperialism Information and media imperialism? Global Media and Communication, 6(1), 33–60. Galperin, H. (2000). Regulatory reform in the broadcasting industries of Brazil and Argentina in the 1990s. Paper presented at the ICA Annual Conference. Gibens, G. (2009). The mass media in Venezuela: History, politics, and freedom. In A.  Albarran (Ed.), The handbook of Spanish language media (pp.  77–87). Routledge. Gómez, R., & Sosa, G. (2010). La concentración en el mercado de la televisión restringida en México. Comunicación y Sociedad, 14, 109–142. Guerrero, M. A., & Márquez-Ramírez, M. (Eds.). (2014). Media systems and communication policies in Latin America. Palgrave Macmillan. Guilder, E (1991). HBO, Omnivision Pact. Variety. Retrieved from: https:// variety.com/1991/tv/features/hboomnivision-pact-99124681/?sub_action= logged_in Hallin, D. C. A. P. M. (2004). Comparing media systems: Three models of media and politics. Cambridge University Press. Hallin, D.  C., & Papathanassopoulos, S. (2002). Political clientelism and the media: Southern Europe and Latin America in Comparative Perspective. Media, Culture & Society, 24(2), 175–195. Retrieved from http://www.portalcomunicacion.com/both/opc/client.pdf Harrison, C. (2013). Televisa to acquire Mexico’s Cablecom in $745 million deal. Bloomberg Business. Retrieved from https://www.bloomberg.com/news/ articles/2013-­08-­01/televisa-­agrees-­to-­745-­million-­deal-­to-­buy-­mexico-­s-­ cablecom?sref=xKGH1vor Harvey, D. (2005a). A brief history of neoliberalism. Oxford University Press. Harvey, D. (2005b). The new imperialism. Oxford University Press. Havens, T. (2003). Exhibiting global television: On the business and cultural functions of global television fairs. Journal of Broadcasting and Electronic Media, 47(1), 18–35. Havens, T. (2006). Global television marketplace. British Film Institute. Havens, T., Lotz, A.  D., & Tinic, S. (2009). Critical media industry studies: A research approach. Communication, Culture & Critique, 2, 234–253. https:// doi.org/10.1111/j.1753-­9137.2009.01037.x Heredia Ruiz, V. (2017). Revolución Netflix: desafíos para la industria audiovisual. Chasqui (Quito), 135, 275–295. Hertz, D. (1987). A Historia Secreta da Rede Globo. Tche. Holt, J., & Perren, A. (2011). Media industries: History, theory, and method. John Wiley & Sons. Horkheimer, M., & Adorno, T. W. (1972). The culture industry: Enlightenment as mass deception. Herder and Herder. Hoskins, C., McFayden, S., & Finn, A. (1997). Global television and film: An introduction to the economics of the business. Clarendon Press.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 45

Igarashi, H., & Saito, H. (2014). Cosmopolitanism as cultural capital: Exploring the intersection of globalization, education and stratification. Cultural Sociology, 8(3), 222–239. ITU. (2019). Measuring digital development: Facts and figures 2019. Retrieved from Geneva: https://www.itu.int/en/ITU-­D/Statistics/Documents/facts/ FactsFigures2019.pdf Jordan, R., & Panchana, A. (2009). The media in Ecuador. In A. Albarrán (Ed.), Handbook of Spanish language media (pp. 104–124). Routledge. Kafka, P. (2018). You can watch Netflix on any screen you want, but you’re probably watching it on a TV, Vox. Retrieved from https://www.vox. com/2018/3/7/17094610/netflix-­70-­percent-­tv-­viewing-­statistics La Tercera. (2017). Universidad Católica vende su participación en Canal 13 a Andrónico Luksic. Retrieved from https://www.latercera.com/noticia/ universidad-­catolica-­vende-­participacion-­la-­propiedad-­canal-­13/ Leal, O. F. (1986). A leitura social da novela das oito. Editora Vozes. Lobato, R. (2018). Rethinking international TV flows research in the age of Netflix. Television & New Media, 19(3), 241–256. https://doi. org/10.1177/1527476417708245 Lopes, M. I. (Ed.). (2004). Telenovela—Internacionalização e interculturalidade. Edições Loyola. López, A.  M. (2014). Calling for intermediality: Latin American mediascapes. Cinema Journal, 54(1), 135–141. Lotz, A. D. (2007). The television will be revolutionized. NYU Press. Lotz, A. D. (2014). The television will be revolutionized (2nd ed.). NYU Press. Love, J. (2019, November 21). Telefonica teams up with AT&T in Mexico in new bid to take fight to Slim. Reuters. Retrieved from https://www.reuters.com/ article/us-­mexico-­telefonica/telefonica-­teams-­up-­with-­att-­in-­mexico-­in-­new-­ bid-­to-­take-­fight-­to-­slim-­idUSKBN1XV2CM Martín-Barbero, J. (1993). Communication, culture and hegemony: From the media to the mediations. Sage. Miceli, S. (1972). A Noite da Madrinha. Editora Perspectiva. Morais, O. J. (2000). Grande sertão—veredas: o romance transformado: semiótica da construção do roteiro televisivo. EdUSP. Multimedios. (2018). Arranca Multimedios su primera transmisión a prueba en CDMX. Retrieved from https://www.multimedios.com/programas/vivalavi/ arranca-­multimedios-­primera-­transmision-­prueba.html Nordenstreng, K., & Varis, T. (1974). Television traffic—A one-way street. UNESCO. Notimérica. (2017). ¿En qué consiste la Ley de Comunicación de Ecuador? Retrieved from https://www.notimerica.com/politica/noticia-­consiste-­ley-­ comunicacion-­ecuador-­20161104124538.html

46 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

OBSERVACOM. (2020, February 18). Reforma Ley de Comunicación de Ecuador: Comisión legislativa avanza sobre definición de medios de comunicación y descarta alcance a plataformas. Retrieved from https://www.observacom.org/ reforma-­ley-­de-­comunicacion-­de-­ecuador-­comision-­legislativa-­avanza-­sobre-­ definicion-­de-­medios-­de-­comunicacion-­y-­descarta-­alcance-­a-­plataformas/ Obitel (2017). Television Fiction in Brazil: Towards 360 Production and Viewing. Globo Comunicação e Participações S.A. Obitel (2019). Modelos de Distribución de la Televisión por Internet: Actores, Tecnologías, Estrategias. Globo Comunicação e Participações S.A. Retrieved from: https://ficciontvespana.com/wpcontent/uploads/2020/09/Modelosde-distribucion-de-la-television-por-inter net-actores-tecnologiasestrategias.pdf Oliveira, O.  S. (1986). Satellite TV and dependency: An empirical approach. International Communication Gazette, 38, 127–145. Ortiz, L. & Suing, A. (2016). La televisión ecuatoriana: pasado y presente. Razón y palabra, 20(93), 135–152. Ortíz León, C., & Suing, A. (2019). La televisión ecuatoriana: pasado y presente. Razón y Palabra, 20(93), 135–152. Ortiz, R., Simoes Borelli, S. H., & Ortiz Ramos, J. M. (1988). Telenovela: historia e producao. Brasiliense. Pasquali, A. (1977). Comunicacion y cultura de masas (4th ed.). Caracas Monte Avila. Peirano (2002). Peruvian media in the 1990s: From deregulation to reorganization. In E. Fox and S. Waisbord (Eds.). Latin politics, global media (pp. 153–163). Austin, TX: University of Texas Press. Pereira, A.  W. (2016). Is the Brazilian state ‘patrimonial’? Latin American Perspectives, 43(2), 135–152. https://doi.org/10.1177/0094582x15616119 Peterson, R.  A. (1992). Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. Poetics, 21(4), 243–258. Piñón, J. (2014). Reglocalization and the rise of the network cities media system in producing telenovelas for hemispheric audiences. International Journal of Cultural Studies, 17(6), 655–671. Plant, I., & de la Maza, M. (2016, June 1). Grupo Discovery adquiere el 27.5% de Mega en cerca de $ 40 mil millones. La Tercera. Retrieved from https://www. latercera.com/noticia/grupo-­discovery-­adquiere-­el-­275-­de-­mega-­en-­cerca-­ de-­40-­mil-­millones/ Plataformas. (2019, October 21). Disminuyen las suscripciones de TV paga en Chile. Retrieved from https://plataformas.news/operadores/nota/ disminuyen-­las-­suscripciones-­de-­tv-­paga-­en-­chile Possebon, S. (2009). TV por assinatura: 20 anos de evolução. ABTA, SETA. Price, M.  E. (1999). Satellite broadcasting as trade routes in the sky. Public Culture, 11(2), 387–403.

2  THE GROWTH OF LATIN AMERICAN TELEVISION 47

Primicias. (2020). El Estado quebró a los medios incautados y no puede venderlos. Retrieved from https://www.primicias.ec/noticias/politica/estado-­acumula-­ quiebra-­no-­vender-­medios-­incautados/ Reis, R. (1999). What prevents cable TV from taking off in Brazil?. Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 43(3), 399–415. Reporters Without Borders. (2020). Media ownership monitor: Brazil. Retrieved from https://www.mom-­rsf.org/en/countries/brazil/ Rivero, Y.  M. (2015). Broadcasting modernity: Cuban commercial television, 1950–1960. Duke University Press. Rodriguez, C. (2020, June 17). TVN pone a la venta su propiedad de Bellavista 0990 en US$ 88 millones. Pauta. Retrieved from https://www.pauta.cl/ negocios/tvn-­vende-­edificio-­bellavista-­0990-­88-­millones-­de-­dolares-­colliers Roncagliolo, R. (1995). Trade integration and communication networks in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communications, 20(3). Roncagliolo, R. (1996). La integración audiovisual en América Latina: Estados, empresas y productores independientes. Culturas en globalización, 41–54. Sánchez Ruiz, E. E. (1991). Apuntes sobre una metodología histórico-estructural (con énfasis en el análisis de medios de difusión). Schiller, H. I. (1969). Mass communication and American empire. Beacon. Schiller, H.  I. (1976). Communication and cultural domination. International Arts and Sciences Press. Schwartzman, S. (1977). Back to Weber: corporatism and patrimonialism in the seventies. Authoritarianism and corporatism in Latin America, 89–106. Sinclair, J. (1999). Latin American television : a global view. New York: Oxford University Press. Sinclair, J. (2004). The globalization of Latin American media. NACLA Report on the Americas, 37(4), 15–19. Sinclair, J. (2020). Television in Latin America: Stages of Transition. A Companion to Television, In J. Wasko & E. R. Meehan (Eds.), A companion to television, 403–421. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. BFI/Palgrave. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). New patterns in global television. Oxfor University Press. Sodre, M. (1972). A comunicacao do grotesco. Editora Vozes. Statista. (2020). Global mobile data traffic from 2017 to 2022, by region. Retrieved September 2020, from https://www.statista.com/statistics/292859/north-­ america-­mobile-­data-­traffic/#statisticContainer Straubhaar, J. (1984). The decline of American influence on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 221–240. Straubhaar, J. (1991a). Beyond media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59.

48 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Straubhaar, J. (2007). World television: From global to local. Sage Publications. Straubhaar, J. (2011). Telenovelas in Brazil: From traveling scripts to a genre and proto-format both national and transnational. In T. Oren & S. Shahaf (Eds.), Global television formats: Understanding television across Borders (pp. 148–177). Routledge. Straubhaar, J., Spence, J., Higgins, V. D. M., Sinta, V., Mora, A. A., García, V. M., & Duarte, L. G. (2016). The evolution of television: An analysis of ten years of TGI Latin America (2004–2014). Program in Latin American and Latino Media Studies, University of Texas. Sutherland, E. (2011). Mobile telecommunications in Central America and the Caribbean—A significant reduction in competition. Paper presented at the SSRN. https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1951453 TV En Serio. (2018). Universidad de Chile cede sus frecuencias de TV abierta a Chilevisión. Retrieved from https://www.tvenserio.com/2018/08/29/ universidad-­de-­chile-­cede-­sus-­frecuencias-­de-­tv-­abierta-­a-­chilevision/ Vera, M., & Wong, Y.C. (2013, February 22). Peru: Latin America’s economic performer. IMG Survey Magazine. Retrieved from http://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/survey/so/2-­13/car022213d.htm Waisbord, S. (1995). Leviathan dreams: State and broadcasting in South America. Communication Review, 1, 201–226. Waisbord, S. (1998). The ties that still bind: Media and National Cultures in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communication, 23, 381–401. Waisbord, S. (2012). Political Communication in Latin America. The SAGE handbook of political communication, 437–449. Wells, A. (World Bank 1972). Picture tube imperialism? Orbis Books.

CHAPTER 3

Why Latin American Audiences Stay Loyal to National Broadcast Television

It looks at some of the major genres produced in Latin America such as telenovelas, comedies, news, and live variety shows, as well as attempts to create new genres such as dramatic series. It examines the trajectories of some of the main regional television producers, such as Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Venezuela, and Colombia. This chapter shows audience data from TGI Latina about the strong popularity of national production and the lower popularity of regional shows, especially in the mass audience from the middle class down. This chapter explores why most Latin Americans continue to watch nationally produced television, primarily on broadcast channels, but increasingly on some nationally produced pay-TV channels, and in some programs produced for services like Netflix. One of the main theories evolved to examine this preference is cultural proximity, which predicts that audiences will prefer national or regional television. It also empirically examines it in terms of preferences for national and regional programming in Latin America during the period 2004–2014, based on a series of annual surveys conducted in eight Latin American countries. The first major prediction of cultural proximity—that audiences will tend to prefer local or national programming—is confirmed from the strong, fairly stable preference that the overall audience shows for national programming in the years studied. However, counter to the second major prediction of

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_3

49

50 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

cultural proximity, that Latin American audiences would favor regional programming next, we found instead that U.S. programming was their second choice. We examine why that seems to be the case and has become stronger in the cable TV era.

A History of National Preferences During the 1960s and 1970s, many studies reported a one-way flow of media, particularly television programs, films, and news, from the U.S. and a few European countries to the rest of the world. Herbert Schiller (Schiller, 1976) estimated that 65% of all world communications originated in the United States. A UNESCO study in 1973 found that over half of the world imported most of their TV shows, mostly entertainment from the United States (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974), while other studies indicated the dominance of four large news agencies (AP, UPI, Agence France Presse, and Reuters) in the production of news worldwide (Boyd-­ Barrett, 1977) and the strong dominance by Hollywood of world film distribution and exhibition (Guback, 1984). However, this was not to be a permanent trend in all countries. As early as 1965, the brand-new TV Globo in Brazil nearly failed when it tried a program strategy heavy with U.S. imports on the advice of its partner, Time-Life. It only began to succeed over the next four years as it dumped that strategy and hired local producers to create national shows (Wallach, 2011). Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, several of the larger and/or wealthier countries in Latin America, the Mid-East, and Asia began to produce far more of their own television programs (Lee, 1980; Sinclair et al., 1996; Straubhaar, 1984). Some, like Brazil, Hong Kong, and Mexico, were beginning to export them, both regionally and globally (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). This surprised Hollywood, scholars, and industry analysts, since up until that time most people supposed that a combination of control over distribution, high production values, and cultural familiarity, dating from the huge outflow and consumption of Hollywood films since the 1920s would also keep U.S. television programs in prime time indefinitely (Guback, 1984; Miller, 2001). One British critic expected “Wall to Wall Dallas,” U.S. television everywhere across the world (Collins, 1986). In reality, most Latin American countries rejected Dallas and preferred either national or regional telenovelas to U.S. prime time melodramas (Antola & Rogers, 1984).

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 51

One theory to explain this was cultural proximity, the idea that audiences would prefer either their own local or national television, or if that was lacking in the genres that audiences wanted, television from similar, nearby cultures (Straubhaar, 1991a). However, this theory also seemed to have limits, even in the 1970s–1990s. Audience research noted that upper class or upper-middle-class audiences in Latin America were more likely to prefer television from dissimilar cultures than were middle class, lower-­ middle class, or working class audiences (Straubhaar, 1991b, Straubhaar, 2007).

Dependency on U.S. in Television Deriving from Marx, for whom culture serves as the ideological support for dominance by capitalist ruling classes, cultural dependency theory looked primarily at the role of the media as part of the economic relations of dependency. In this analysis, Third World countries depended on the industrialized world for capital, technology, and most manufactured goods, while exporting low cost primary products or cheap manufactured goods, which added little benefit to the local economy (Baran & Sweezy, 1968). Speaking primarily of Latin America, Fox (1992) observed that “Cultural dependency generally was taken to mean the domination of content, financing, and advertising of the domestic media by foreign, specifically U.S. companies.” Audience choices were not really considered, as a logic of economic domination was assumed to prevail. Fox noted that critiques of cultural dependency theories centered upon three areas: (1) the failure of state-directed policy aimed at countering dependency, (2) the allure of free trade, and (3) the apparent success of some large Third World broadcasters, such as Mexico’s Televisa and Brazil’s TV Globo in producing their own programs on a large scale (1992). Waisbord offers a vision of the historical development of Latin America that builds subtly on ideas like dependency. He defines three eras of television in Latin American in which the relationship with the U.S. is always a defining feature: early U.S. support for and equipment sales to Latin American television businesses; a stage of direct investment that had largely failed by the 1970s with U.S. firms withdrawing; and a stage in which U.S. firms re-enter Latin America through cable and satellite television (Waisbord, 1998a).

52 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Cultural Imperialism Cultural imperialism tends to see culture as part of a holistic system, in which imported television programs and films, local adaptations of American entertainment media genres, local as well as imported advertising and commercial media models all combine to encourage increased consumption and acceptance of the framework of consumer capitalism among viewers (Oliveira, 1993; Schiller, 1991). Indeed, if we separate cultural imperialism into economic and cultural layers, despite its holistic claims, we find that the economic predictions of cultural imperialism have largely come true. From the revolutionary days of the late 1950s–1970s, when capitalism was actively contested across the region and defeated in Cuba, most Latin American countries have become capitalist consumer economies, facilitated as much by nationally produced television as by U.S. imports (Oliveira, 1993). However, in the cultural sphere, imperialism theory predictions tended to assume a dominance of imported television, which would lead to a homogenization of culture. Tunstall observed: “The cultural imperialism hypothesis claims that authentic, traditional, and local culture in many parts of the world is being battered out of existence by the indiscriminate dumping of large quantities of slick commercial and media products, mainly from the United States” (Tunstall, 2008). These programs were assumed to be attractive because of their higher production values, their quality of acting and writing, and the appeal of their portrayals of U.S. life (Straubhaar, 1981). The underlying political economy was assumed to be a center-periphery domination of developing countries by more industrialized ones in all areas, including culture. However, “theoretical reformulation has become imperative in order to cope with these globalizing forces that make transnational cultural flow much more disjunctive, non-­ isomorphic, and complex than what the centre–periphery paradigm allows us to understand” (Iwabuchi, 2002, p. 36). In a critique of the cultural imperialism paradigm, Straubhaar (1991a) said, “beyond the structural relationships that the dependency literature leads us to examine, we must look at how media are received by audience as part of cultures and subcultures that resist change … these audience preferences lead television industries and advertisers to produce more programming nationally and to select an increasing proportion of what is imported from within the same region, language group, and culture, when such programming is available” (p.  39). All this takes place within a

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 53

framework of the cultural industry, dominated by advertising, so at the deep structural level, one can say that U.S. influence helped bring these countries more deeply into a world capitalist economy (Wallerstein, 1979), as Schiller (1969) and others warned. However, within the boundaries of the world capitalist system (Straubhaar, 2007), their dependency seems to have decreased.

National Production One of the first major empirical arguments against dependency and cultural imperialism rested in the success of emerging Third World producers: TV Globo in Brazil (Straubhaar, 1984), Televisa in Mexico (Sinclair, 1992), as well as TVB in Hong Kong (Ma, 2005), Egyptian national television (Abu-Lughod, 2005), and other stations and networks in pushing imported programs out of prime time, substituting imported programs in favor of local or national television production. Their growth and commercial success came from attracting large national audiences to their nationally produced programs, such as telenovelas, other dramas, music, comedy, and large variety shows (Tunstall,  2008) and successfully drawing the advertising required to support the cost of that programming (Mattos, 1984; Straubhaar, 1984). Before considering the audiences further, we need to have a sense of the national genres that began to draw increasingly strong audiences, from the 1950s on.

Telenovelas Somewhat ironically, the dominant Latin American television genre was created with significant U.S. influence and participation, along with a variety of other influences on the development of melodrama that fed into Latin America. Colgate-Palmolive had huge success in North America creating the commercial genre of soap opera, first in radio and then television, to sell more soap to its intended female consumers. It worked with producers in Cuba to create a Latin American version of first the radionovela and then the telenovela (La Pastina et  al., 2003; Rivero, 2015), so the political economic frame of the genre needs to be recognized. It was a genre developed in part by US advertisers to sell soap in Latin America and can be seen as part of a larger campaign to help produce consumer societies in Latin America (Oliveira, 1993; Schiller, 1991). The genre then flowed into other parts of Latin America through the sale of Cuban scripts

54 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

to other national productions that aimed to replicate Cuban success with the genre (Straubhaar, 2012). Adriaens and Biltereyst (2011) observe: Cuba facilitated the rising popularity of telenovelas throughout the 1950s in Latin America by providing actors, producers, and screenplays, while advertising agencies and multinational corporations from the United States were active in disseminating the new format in the wider region. After the mid-­1960s, the United States’ direct control over the growth and expansion of telenovelas subsided and the genre gradually began to evolve in diverse directions in different countries. (Adriaens & Biltereyst, 2011, p. 533)

There is much more to the telenovela than the advertising promotion of consumption or U.S. influence. Even in Cuba, U.S. advertising investment met a hybrid development and production process in which Cuban professionals added their own ideas, and used influences from Latin American popular culture itself (Martin-Barbero, 1987), as well as from other sources of ideas and tropes of melodrama, such as serial novels and Mexican cinematic melodrama (Santos, 2003), French newspaper feuilleton serials (Lopes, 2009), local patterns of storytelling, and so on (Martin-­ Barbero, 1987). In some ways, the telenovela is one of the ultimate examples of Latin American cultural hybridity (Canclini, 1995). The Cuban scripts produced regional classics like The Right to be Born (or To Know Who One Is, El Derecho de Nacer), produced in many countries across the region multiple times (Mattelart & Mattelart, 1990). Some places like Brazil kept doing Cuba-style telenovelas up into the 1960s, but one of the trends that swept through the region from the 1960s on was localizing the telenovela genre into a variety of national versions that proved far more popular in most places. The common aspects of the genre continued to be a serial narrative that had to be followed closely often five to six nights a week, as the genre moved in prime time as the prime audience attraction. They featured a beginning, middle, and end over a period of months. There tended to be a somewhat shared set of roles, at least a couple of romantic leads whose relationship was often frustrated right up until the last few weeks, often a female antagonist or enemy of the female lead, a maid, the maid’s daughter, an evil rich lady, often an entrepreneur who sometimes is female, a usually good woman born into poverty, a secretary, selfish relatives (Ramirez, 2017), working class people trying to achieve social mobility, male villains, teenagers with typical problems, mysterious

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 55

men, people embodying key social issues (particularly in Brazil and Colombia), and so on. Social class levels vary but are often focused on staying in the middle class or rising into it (Straubhaar, 2007). A classic plot is about rags to riches social mobility, often with a poor Cinderella who eventually married the rich Prince Charming, particularly in Mexico, but common throughout the region (Erlick, 2017). Brazilian telenovelas tend to have more subplots and characters, often with both rich and poor families whose paths cross (Straubhaar, 2007). “Other key characteristics of traditional telenovelas include the presence of suspense and emotion, a heterosexual love story, the use of triangles, the forced bipolarity between good and evil, the significance of music in creating emotional identification, the use of actual events in the plot, natural acting, and improvisation” (Adriaens & Biltereyst, 2011, p. 553). The national telenovela in most countries in Latin America developed in a complex matrix of the regional flow of scripts, ideas, and professionals. For example, TV Globo became a powerhouse of distinctive national production. By the mid-1970s, it was producing three to four telenovelas a night, each aimed at a slightly different audience for 6 p.m. (lighter, more comedic, aimed more at women and children), 7  p.m. (still somewhat lighter but aimed at a broad audience), 8 p.m. (the main event, aimed at men and whole families, often with quite a bit about social issues), or 10  p.m. (even more social-issue oriented, aimed at the middle class on up), which dominated local prime time (Straubhaar, 1982; Mattelart & Mattelart, 1990). Even in 2018, 13% of Brazilian television time overall was occupied by fiction, mostly telenovelas (Lopes & Orozco Gomez, 2019). In 2018, 86% of Brazilians had broadcast TV, 83% had some sort of Internet access but about a third of that had broadband, and 39% had pay-TV, a decline of about 3% per year for the previous three–four years (Lopes & Lemos, 2019). Mexico is an even more prominent producer and exporter of telenovelas. Data from 2014 shows that all the top ten most watched television programs in the Latino/a market in the United States were Televisa productions. Likewise, Colombia, Chile, Ecuador, Spain, Peru, Venezuela, and Argentina have had a significant number of Mexican telenovelas during their prime time (Orozco & Vasallo Lopez, 2014). Besides telenovelas, Mexico has had great success exporting comedy. Shows like El chavo del ocho (1971–1980) and Chespirito (1980–1995) had been popular in Spain, throughout Latin America, and even in Brazil (Gomez, 2017; Gonzalez Hernandez, 2018). Telenovelas in Mexico have constituted one

56 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

of the biggest spaces for expression, recognition, and cultural recreation as one of the most distinctive mass media products (Orozco Gomez, 2006). According to Mazziotti (2005), the traditional model of telenovela constructed by Televisa is characterized by themes and narratives following a strong connection with theater and radio. The traditional model follows a kind of Catholic morality of justice, moral reparation, guilt, and suffering (exemplified by the popular Los ricos también lloran—The Rich also Cry—from 1979). Orozco Gómez (2006) indicates telenovelas “a la Televisa” that include classical melodramatic narratives with outdated class and gender components as well as universal values such as virginity, hard work as the only legitimate resource for the poor to get out of their social status, and cunning as a strategy for the rich to survive their misfortunes and find their destiny. Similarly, skin color and racial features are exploited to touch on “impossible romance” tropes between a white woman and a macho countryman. Mazziotti (2009) claims that one important element of Televisa’s telenovela model is its star system. While the narratives and themes remain the same, fresh and new faces are part of Televisa’s industry strategies. Considering Televisa and the Azcarraga’s political influence in Mexico and as self-declared supporters of Mexico’s ruling party (until 2000) PRI, Televisa’s programming remained in the government’s favor (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Orozco Gómez (2006) indicates the Mexican telenovelas show an image of the country as always idyllic and protected. National problems seem non-existent or appear completely eclipsed by the romantic arc. There is no space for politics in the national melodrama. Researchers of Latin American and Mexican telenovelas (Martin-­ Barbero, 1987; Mazziotti, 1996; González, 1998; Vasallo, 2002) posit that telenovelas are able to develop a cultural matrix. Telenovelas are able to recreate the popular mixing of the melodrama with mundane practices building mental maps and building “practices of knowledge and behavior” (Martin-Barbero & Muñoz, 1992; Orozco Gómez, 2006). Mexican telenovelas, contrary to Brazilian telenovelas which emphasize political-­ economic and social problems, which attracted more men to the audience, are considered a more gendered product targeted specifically to women. Telenovelas like “El amor tiene cara de mujer” (1971), “Simplemente María” (1970), and “Corazón salvaje, 2” (1977) that were transmitted in the morning were targeted specifically to housewives. While crafted for a more adult and both female and male audience, telenovelas like “Cuna de lobos” (1986) and “Yesenia” (1970) were aired during evening prime time.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 57

Eventually, telenovelas started targeting smaller audiences with children’s telenovelas like the Argentinian adaptation “Mundo de juguete” (1974), “Luz Clarita” (1997), “Amigos x siempre” (2000), and the Argentinian “Chiquititas” (2000), which was later adapted to Brazil. Meanwhile, telenovelas aimed at young adults consisted of famous regional adaptations like “Clase 406” (2002) adapted from the Colombian “Francisco el matemático” (1999), and “Rebelde” (2005), another Argentinian adaptation. Colombia is rising as a producer and exporter of telenovelas. The Colombian model of telenovela combines modern and traditional elements to explore urban, provincial, rural universes and juxtapose them to work in professional environments. It maintains the good versus evil themes but portrays characters with peculiar identity traits that results in a caricatured version of Colombians. This can be exemplified in the popular Yo soy Betty la fea and Todos quieren con Marilyn, where the protagonist, the evil lady, and the lead man all tend to exaggerate and appear more like cartoon characters. Sensuality and humor are key elements in the Colombian telenovela (Mazziotti, 2009). Fernando Gaitán, Colombia’s most famous telenovela screenwriter and producer, created two of Colombia’s biggest exports Yo soy Betty, la fea (1999–2001), which was exported to approximately 70 countries, including the United States (Miller, 2001), and Café con aroma de mujer (1994–1995), the most famous Colombian telenovela export of the early 1990s (Rivero, 2013). More recently, Colombia started producing narconovelas, that is telenovelas related to drug cartels and narco culture. Generally, narconovelas perpetuate a culture of violence and gender stereotypes, with titles like Sin tetas no hay paraíso (Without breasts, there is no paradise, 2006) (Miller et al., 2018). Argentina is a notable producer of telenovelas and is considered a long-­ term second-tier exporter within Latin America (Roncagliolo, 1995). However, perhaps due to the distinctiveness of its dialect of Spanish, Argentina has struggled to export programs to the region in proportion to its national productivity, so it has shifted over time to be an exporter of drama scripts and entertainment formats (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013; Chalaby, 2017). Venezuela had been a producer and regional exporter comparable to Argentina (Roncagliolo, 1995). However, the tumult of national politics has limited drama production. One of two major producing networks (RCTV) had its license canceled for opposition to the Chavez

58 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

government, and the other (Venevision) is afraid to commit the resources necessary for large scale fiction production (Acosta-Alzuru, 2015).

The Introduction of Dramatic Series in Latin America As we will see in Chap. 4, one of the competitive advantages of US and other foreign television in Latin America has been their dominance of the genre of dramatic series. There have been efforts at several points by TV Globo to create different forms of series. Most successful probably is the recent evolution of the super series, action-oriented series that evolved out of telenovelas in Colombia, Mexico, and the Hispanic U.S. with Telemundo. In Brazil, TV Globo experimented with dramatic series in the 1970s. One of TV Globo’s main directors, Daniel Filho, argued for increasing the diversity of formats on television, not to diminish the telenovela, but to diversify the themes and audiences television could reach (Rubim, 2001). TV Globo produced several series in the late 1970s, Malú Mulher (a 1979 series about a recently unmarried woman, which ran for a couple of years), Plantão de Polícia (a 1979 police series), and Carga Pesada (a 1979 buddy series about long haul truck drivers, which was relatively popular and remade again in 2003). All did relatively well, but they did not compete favorably with telenovelas, and they did not become an ongoing mainstream genre. Dramatic series came to be seen as a form for upper-middle and middle-class audiences. A college professor in São Paulo interviewed by Straubhaar in 1979 observed that he and his wife loved Malu Mulher, but he couldn’t imagine how working-class audiences could relate to a story about an upper-middle-class woman who sat at a typewriter onscreen and called herself a sociologist. This was prescient because the major stations, oriented to mass audiences, did not develop the dramatic series as other nations in the world did, particularly the United States and Europe, so that such series began to be an item for import aimed at upper-middle-­ class and elite audiences in Latin America, rather than a genre extensively produced there. However, there is a recent development, with roots in telenovela, of the super series (Piñon, 2019). These are action and crime-oriented series, much shorter than telenovelas, with varied lengths. They seem to have developed out of narconovelas, telenovelas that started in Colombia and

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 59

then Mexico about narcotics traffickers. The success of those telenovelas indicated a demand for Latin American action-oriented series that gradually turned into something more like U.S. action series. Piñon notes that “superseries depart from telenovelas, in a number of key ways; but on the other hand, they also share key elements of the telenovela genre, as a consequence of their origin as telenovelas themselves in their iteration as narconovelas … As the screenwriter of the successful super series El Señor de los Cielos (Lord of the Skies, 2013–) put it: ‘I tried to keep some dynamics from telenovela narrative, but mixed with the narrative structure of series, which are close to the English-mainstream series and action-­ oriented stories’” (Piñon, 2019, p.  205). The series La Reina del Sur (Queen of the South, 2011) was shorter than most telenovelas, but longer than a typical U.S. series, and seems to have been a first move in this direction. It was a co-production between the U.S.  Hispanic network Telemundo, RTI in Colombia, and Antenna 3 in Spain. Telemundo seems to be emerging as a dominant producer in this new form of series, but often in co-production with producers from other countries.

Cultural Proximity The theory of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991) tries to explain why television production is growing within Latin America and other regions of the world at both the national and regional levels. The argument, building on De Sola Pool (1977), is that all other things being equal, audiences will tend to prefer programming which is closest or most proximate to their own culture, starting with national programming, if it can be supported by the local economy. Localized or nationalized cultural capital, identity, and language tend to favor an audience desire for cultural proximity, which leads audiences to prefer local and national productions over those which are globalized and/or American. Cultural proximity is created by a feeling of cultural closeness or similarity, perceived in specific things like humor, gender images, dress, style, lifestyle, knowledge about other lifestyles, ethnic types, religion, and values that seem familiar or comfortable. It could also be seen as a desire to see national cultures reflected on television (Waisbord, 1998b). A similar desire for the most relevant or similar programs also seemed to lead many national audiences to prefer cultural-linguistic regional programming in genres that small countries cannot afford to produce for themselves. For instance, audiences in smaller countries, such as the

60 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Dominican Republic, have shown a preference for national programming. However, when there is lack of availability within certain genres, there is a tendency to look next to Latin American regional programming, which may be relatively more culturally proximate or similar than those in the U.S. (Straubhaar, 1991). As an example of cultural proximity outside Latin America, results from a European study by Bondebjerg et al. (2017) tell us that, “people have strong feelings about their own national TV drama; they express much deeper spontaneous connection with narratives from their own national reality. There is a proximity that goes deep between stories where locations, characters and details of a recognizable reality are experienced and felt directly” (Bondebjerg et al., 2017, p. 11). Anthropologist Conrad Kottak, a longtime observer of culture in Brazil, observed in 1990 that “common to all mass culture successes, no matter what the country, the first requirement is that they fit the existing culture. They must be preadapted to their culture by virtue of cultural appropriateness [emphases in the original]. If a product is to be a mass culture success, it must be immediately acceptable, understandable, familiar, and conducive to mass participation” (p. 43). The Brazilian case shows how strong the preference is for national programming. The major channel, TV Globo, produces over 12 hours a day of programming for itself, including over 85% of its prime time programming (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). This kind of production can only be achieved when the domestic market is large enough to support the products and when the cultural industries are sufficiently developed to manufacture them. Something similar can be said about Mexico, where Televisa, the largest mass media company of the Spanish-speaking world (Alvarado Cabrera, 2018), produced about 90,000 hours of content for free-to-air and pay-TV, representing 36.9% of the segment’s net sales in 2016 (Alvarado Cabrera, 2018). Even audiences in Northeastern Mexico, with close geographical proximity to the United States and who are historically familiar with U.S. culture heavily favor local and national programs (Lozano, 2011). Hoskins and Mirus (1988) have also created a useful concept for examining the attraction of national programming to national audiences: the cultural discount. A particular programme rooted in one culture, and thus attractive in that environment, will have a diminished appeal elsewhere as viewers find it difficult to identify with the style, values, beliefs, institutions and behavioural patterns of the material in questions. Included in the cultural discount are

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 61

reductions in appreciation due to dubbing or subtitling … As a result of the diminished appeal, fewer viewers will watch a foreign programme than a domestic programme of the same type and quality, and hence the value to the broadcasters, equal to the advertising revenue induced if the broadcaster is financed from this source, will be less … the cultural discount explains why trade is predominantly in entertainment, primarily drama, programming. (Hoskins & Mirus, 1988, pp. 500–501)

Primary, Local or National, Cultural Proximity Cultural proximity has evolved since 1991 into what might be seen as national and regional versions of the theory. At the national level, it seems to have become commonplace that most (but not all) national publics prefer nationally based television programming. Research by Buonanno in Western Europe since the 1990s has shown an evolving preference for national programming, when available (Buonanno, 1999, 2002). Similar national preferences seem to have evolved in many parts of Asia. That might initially have been due to fairly strong protectionism (Chan, 1994), but as quotas and other protections were relaxed in the later 1990s and 2000s in many countries, national preferences seem to have persisted, notably in India, China (Sinclair & Harrison, 2004), Korea (Hyun, 2007), Japan (Ito, 1991), and others. One could argue that the kind of national or local preference predicted by cultural proximity is latent but dynamic, depending on the evolving sense of collective identity in a given cultural space, and how cultural industries evolve in that space. Many countries were created artificially by colonial powers during the colonization process, such as the composition of Iraq from separate Kurdish, Sunni, and Shiite provinces (under the Turkish empire) after World War I (Lapidus, 2014). A survey of “Third World” broadcasting in 1976 showed that using radio and television to try to establish national identity in newly established nations that had not had identities focused on those territories was both a goal of almost all countries and a challenge for many (Katz & Wedell, 1976). Artificially defined borders can, over time, come to house strongly felt national identities, as in Latin America. Anderson showed how states could often do much with their own tools (schools, holidays, museums, maps, anthems, military service) and could do even more in cooperation with cultural industries and artists to create imagined communities (Anderson, 1983). However, the imagined national communities of Latin

62 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

America have been evolving since the period 1820–1830s, whereas many other states date to changes after World War I or World War II, post-­ colonial struggles in the 1960s–1970s, or even later. So, while Latin American countries have national cultures that prefer national broadcasts, many other states have not yet achieved that.

Secondary, Regional (Geo-Cultural), or Cultural-­Linguistic Cultural Proximity Cultural proximity is thus very dynamic, as it evolves with both national and transnational developments. It should not be seen as a static and as an inherent quality, as Iwabuchi (2002) has pointed out. The perceived cultural proximity of Japan to other Asian nations grew slowly after World War II, despite the resentment many other Asian peoples felt toward Japanese colonialism in the war, as it came to be seen instead as an attractive model of Asian modernity. To some degree, Japan has now been supplanted in that position by Korea (Hyun, 2007). One of the ways in which potential cultural proximity, based on earlier historical interactions and shared cultural resources, can be developed in the TV era is by the growth of some country as an early producer and exporter of television, as in the case of Brazil and Mexico (Sinclair, 1999). The regional aspect of cultural proximity has been a useful insight for scholars in Latin America, where regional television markets grew, starting with the exporting of scripts in the 1950s, and whole programs in the 1970s, including across language lines (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Brazilian telenovelas, for instance, were exported into Spanish-speaking Latin American countries starting in 1975. Strong intra-regional flows continue (Lopes, 2014), even as contents from other regions, such as Korean wave dramas, have begun to show up in some markets. This goes to show that regional cultural proximity still works to some degree, but that genre proximity—like the appeal of melodrama—across cultures is part of a set of competing proximities (La Pastina & Straubhaar, 2005). A number of high producing countries (Brazil, Mexico, Hong Kong, Egypt, India) pushed forward to export to other countries within their geo-­ cultural regions, such as Latin America, East and Southeast Asia, and the Arabic speaking Middle East (Sinclair et al., 1996), or to cultural-linguistic markets, like the Lusophone linguistic space, where Brazil exported telenovelas to Portugal starting in 1976 and Lusophone Africa after that

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 63

(Cunha, 2011). Thus, one strong empirical observation against the logic of dominated cultural flows was the emergence of culturally proximate or culturally similar regional markets (Sinclair et al., 1996; Wilkinson, 1995). Although some authors see cultural proximity as a factor in intra-­ European television co-production and flows (Trepte, 2008), most European scholars, such as Buonanno (1999), Schlesinger (1993), and others, have noted that there is little common cultural basis for TV flow or demand across language and cultural barriers within Europe, despite such ambitious projects to encourage these exchanges as Television Without Frontiers (Presburger & Tyler, 1989). One of the most comprehensive European studies to date by Bondebjorg et al. shows that “television audiences around Europe tend to prefer their own national drama production above everything else, but US and UK drama forms are also extremely popular all over Europe and in many other parts of the world” (Bondebjerg, 2016, p. 26). This shows a pattern that we will return to in Chap. 4, that audiences may prefer national programming first, while preferring US and Anglophone drama second, over regional production (Milly Buonanno, 2004b, 2008). Despite the theoretical predictions of cultural proximity, that also seems to be happening in Latin America. As we will see, that depends on social class and national context.

Ongoing Competition with Imported U.S. Television Programs and Channels Even though the growth of national television producers and regional producers/exporters may have actualized a sense of cultural proximity by appealing to aspects of identity and history, they have to contend with the continued export power of the United States. The U.S. had been exporting television worldwide since the early 1950s (Bielby & Harrington, 2008), building on Hollywood films, many produced by the same companies, widely exported since the 1920s (Miller et al., 2005). Thus, there has been a long cultivation of a kind of cultural familiarity with the U.S., particularly in Western Europe and Latin America, which has led some to call the U.S. “everyone’s second culture” (Gitlin, 1998). Buonanno (1999) found that while European countries were producing and consuming more of their own national dramas and other programming, their second preferences were U.S. programs and channels, not regional ones; cultural proximity only applied at the national level (Buonanno, 2004a).

64 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

While U.S. television programs had receded to the margins of television schedules for the largest television networks in Brazil and Mexico, for competing stations in those countries and for many smaller networks around Latin America, U.S. programs were always a widely and cheaply available resource to fall back on. A new stream of U.S. programs and entire cable channels flowed into Latin America and the rest of the world in the late 1980s–early 1990s with the growth of pay-TV (Duarte, 2001). While the uptake of cable or satellite pay-TV was initially low in most of Latin America (Reis, 1999), it was higher in Argentina (Park, 2002) and Colombia (Forero et al., 2009) due to government limits on the development of commercial broadcast TV networks. Pay-TV and TV over the Internet began to grow, as we note below, as more Latin Americans moved into the lower-middle and middle classes in the 2000s, which is also covered in more depth in Chap. 5.

Capitals, Class, Viewing Options, and Viewing Choices Cultural proximity is also limited by factors largely related to social class stratification. National audiences or other cultural groups originally united by language and/or culture in ways that gave rise to the theory of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991) seem to be increasingly fragmented by economic, cultural, and linguistic capital in the senses defined by Bourdieu (1984, 1991). Increased economic capital gives audiences greater access to more kinds of television (multichannel TV, Internet TV, OTT, etc.), which may challenge the kind of loyalty to national TV implied by cultural proximity by providing many more alternatives. Increased cultural capital gained from family background, education, travel, and so on may give audiences the cultural knowledge that might make previously unfamiliar, foreign television programs more interesting or relevant. Increased linguistic capital would work in a manner very similar to cultural capital but based specifically on language learning, leading to broader interest in other cultures’ television. Cultural proximity also evolves with the changing nature of television, which has moved from dominance by a few broadcast channels to a much larger, more fragmented universe of competing pay-TV and Internet channels (Lotz, 2014). One remarkable feature about most Latin American countries was that pay-TV or multichannel television penetration remained

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 65

very low by global standards for middle income countries until the mid-­ to-­late 2000s, with the exception of Argentina and Colombia, where multichannel penetration had been much higher for a long time (Straubhaar et al., 2015a). People in the economic elite in many Latin American countries had long been able to access foreign programming through subscription services that were mostly unaffordable for the majority of the population (Porto, 1998). However, changing income distribution in key Latin American countries seems to be expanding these possibilities well beyond the elite. In Brazil, for example, prior to the economic slowdown that began in 2014, estimates were that close to 40 million people had risen from the working class or working poor into the ranks of the lower-­ middle class (Zizola, 2014), where it was now feasible for them to have pay-TV, or broadband Internet to use Internet-based television more easily (see Chap. 5 for more information on this). This study posits that this wealth that enables more parts of the audience to obtain more viewing choices and options is increasing across more parts of the population in Latin America, particularly in Brazil, Chile, and Mexico. This rapidly increasing economic capital is a major intervening factor in the evolution of cultural proximity. Even more importantly, perhaps, in most Latin American countries, at least until the major growth economic growth of lower-middle classes in the 2000s, only elites or upper-middle classes have had the education, employment experiences, travel opportunities, and family backgrounds that give them the cultural (Bourdieu, 1984) or linguistic (Bourdieu, 1991) capital required to seek, understand, and enjoy programs in other languages, from other countries (Straubhaar, 2007).

Methodology This study is based on secondary analysis of data from TGI Latina, a biannual marketing and media consumption survey conducted in eight Latin American countries by the Miami-based marketing intelligence firm Kantar Media. It had fieldwork by Instituto Brasileiro de Opinião Pública e Estatística (IBOPE), in Portuguese and its other subsidiaries in Mexico and South America. The analysis presented in this chapter focuses on data from 2004 through 2014, which covered eight countries in Latin America: Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela. For each country, a probability sample was projected to represent the total

66 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

household and individual population in potential markets of interest. With the exception of Mexico, where the sample represents 20 cities across Mexico, most of the samples are limited to a few major metropolitan areas—eight in Brazil, far fewer in most other countries. This is important because people in major metro areas are richer, better educated, and more connected to a variety of communication technologies than are the national general population. For example, in 2012, 64% of the Kantar metro sample in Brazil had access to the Internet, while the number in the general population was 44%. So, although the total number of respondents for all eight countries was 61,400, which represents a universe of more than 176 million people in the region covered, we have to remember that we can generalize to major metropolitan areas but not national general populations. TGI Latina surveys are conducted door-to-door, with a combination of personal interviews and a paper survey left behind by the interviewer to be retrieved at a later date. Interviewers followed a skip pattern for sampling that was based on the physical location of respondents’ homes. Since response rates were low among some important demographic groups– notably, households at the bottom and at the top of the SES scales, and those in remote areas–TGI Latina weighted the responses to better represent the overall population.

Measurements This study uses TGI Latina data to look at changes over time in respondents’ self-reported interest in television programming from their own nation, the region, the United States, and Europe. The theory of cultural proximity predicts that respondents would prefer first their own national programs and channels, then regional ones, then those of the U.S. or Europe. This was represented by viewing interest for national, Latin American regional, U.S. and European television programs and films. Four questions asked respondents to state their interest in TV programs and films from (nation, region, etc.) on a scale from “very uninterested” to “very interested.” We use the combined values “interested” and “very interested” to indicate interest in TV programming from each of the four origins (national, regional, US and European). We then examined the relationships between these scales of interest in programming to education, which we conceptually define as cultural capital; an index of socio-­ economic status, which we conceptually define as economic capital; and an

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 67

index of forms of foreign language learning, which we conceptually define as linguistic capital.

Data Analysis The TGI Latina 2004–2014 data was run through Choices 3, a specially designed analysis software at Kantar Media. The team ran crosstabs of the designated indicators for viewing interest in U.S. programming and the different capitals, and then used the Significance option in Choices 3 to calculate chi-square statistics and flag those significant at the 0.01 level. We used a more demanding level of significance, P = 0.01 versus P = 0.05, to limit the risk of Type I error.

Limitations This study allows access to conceptually useful data but is limited in three important ways. First, it is a study of major metro areas, not national populations, as noted above. Second, in order to have access to the data, we had to analyze within the analytical programs of Kantar Media, which essentially limited us to cross-tabulations with significance analyzed by the Chi-Square statistic; more advanced statistical procedures and measures were not possible in Kantar’s system. Third, because of the large sample size and our need to rely on cross-tabulation, we run some risk of Type I error here, finding false positives in significance due to our large sample (61,400).

The Context of Multichannel Viewing Growth In overall terms, viewing options increased substantially from 2004 to 2014. The average proportion of households in all eight Latin American countries studied which had only broadcast television declined from 72% in 2004 to 45% in 2014. Households with cable television rose from 20% to 36%. Satellite television homes rose from 7% to 18%. Overall, there was a fairly steady growth in multichannel television in most of the eight countries, from a regional average under 30% to about 55%. There was a rapid uptake in Colombia, 2006–2009, while some others had ups and downs despite the general growth trend. The opportunity for viewing many more kinds of channels went up considerably in most metro areas in the analyzed countries from 2004 to 2014, diminishing the monopoly by national

68 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

broadcast channels and providing more competition for national programming. So one could ask whether a decline in national cultural proximity or an increase in the attraction of U.S. or European programming might be related to the increasing availability of those programs on cable or satellite multichannel TV. (This is treated in greater detail in Chap. 5).

Preferences for National and Regional Television Programs TGI Latina data from 2004 to 2014 shows changes over time in respondents’ overall interest in television from their own nation, compared to programming from the rest of the Latin American region, the United States, and Europe. The theory of cultural proximity predicts that respondents would prefer first their own national programs and channels. It then predicted that after that, viewers would prefer regional programs, then those of the U.S. or Europe. In all Latin American countries combined in 2014 (the set of columns at the left of Fig. 3.1), 59% of respondents said they were interested or very interested in domestic TV film or programs, while 52% said they were interested or very interested in U.S. TV program and film, 31% said they were interested or very interested in other Latin American programming, and 30% said they were interested or very interested in European TV programming. This reinforces the primary or national aspect of cultural proximity, and challenges the secondary or regional aspect, while reinforcing the idea that U.S. programming is likely the second choice after national programming for many countries in the world. However, we do see some major differences between countries, visible in the other sets of columns by country. The countries are ranked left to right in terms of the level of their metro area audience’s interest in national programming and some changes over time, which we examine below.

General Preferences for National Programming and Channels In Latin America, audiences do indeed tend to prefer domestic content, at least in the case of seven out of eight Latin American countries surveyed (see Fig. 3.1). Peru is an interesting exception in that preference for both national and U.S. programming went up from 2004 to 2014, with

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 69

Fig. 3.1  Latin American TV viewing interests (interested and very interested) by origin in 2004, 2014. (Source: TGI Latina)

preference for U.S. programs slightly, but not significantly higher than for national ones. Overall, we see some changes from 2004 to 2014, but also a large amount of stability in terms of preferences for national programs. Figure 3.2 shows the preferences for national programming, comparing 2004 to 2014 (Fig. 3.3). Even though larger segments of most countries’ audiences had increased viewing options in 2014 with the rapid growth in multichannel

70 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fig. 3.2  Overall programming origin preferences, eight country average 2004–2014. (Source: TGI Latina)

households 2010–2014, the audiences in most Latin American countries surveyed (with the exception of Venezuela) showed a strong continuing preference for domestic TV programs, channels, and films. In Argentina, Brazil, and Peru, preference for national programming increased somewhat from 2004 to 2014. In Chile and Colombia, it continued almost unchanged, and in Ecuador and Mexico, it declined slightly, while in Venezuela, interest in national programming declined substantially, from 63% to 43.8%. In exactly those years, Venezuela went from being a strong producer of telenovelas to a net importer of them, with only one new national telenovela per year on average by 2014 (Acosta-Alzuru, 2015). The Venezuelan government took away the license to broadcast for RCTV, a strong producer of telenovelas, in 2007, and later imposed conditions on contents from another major producer Venevision, which led them to hesitate to invest in expensive productions like telenovelas (Acosta-Alzuru, 2015). These interventions could at least partially explain the Venezuelan

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 71

Fig. 3.3  Changing program preferences in Venezuela. (Source: TGI Latina)

audience’s loss of interest in at least the entertainment aspects of national programming.

Genre Preferences and Domestic Bias The idea of overall preference for national, regional, US, or European programming might seem a bit abstract. To what degree do audience members surveyed in these Latin American countries actually think in those terms? Is asking people whether they tend to prefer national programs to U.S. ones in general meaningful or valid? To verify the meaning of national origin preferences and to expand upon what they mean in terms of more concrete audience preferences, we compared the general preferences across the total sample in all eight countries for two kinds of specific national genres to the same preferences among those who had specified a greater preference for national programming (4 or 5 on a five-­ point scale). In Figs. 3.4 and 3.5 we looked at two genres in which survey

72 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fig. 3.4  Genres x national origin preferences. All countries. (Source: TGI Latina)

respondents had a chance to prefer national versus international versions of the same types of programming: news and telenovelas or soap operas. News Preferences for domestic news did not vary more than a couple of points between the general sample and those who specifically preferred national programming. Furthermore, these preferences stayed fairly constant from 2004 to 2014. Thus, interest in national news did not vary much by preference for the origin of programs or over time. Telenovelas For soap operas or telenovelas, there was a much larger, significant difference in preference between the general sample and those who opted for national programs. The general sample was less interested in soap opera by an average of five points, compared to those who preferred national programs in general, who were notably more interested in soap opera. This

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 73

Fig. 3.5  Trends in preference for regional Latin American programming. (Source: TGI Latina)

difference makes sense since the prime time telenovela is the flagship national program for most national networks in Latin America that have the audience size and economic wherewithal to produce them (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Interestingly, however, preference for national telenovelas also seems to have tapered off over time among both the general audience (from 45.9% in 2004 to 42.3% in 2014) and the audience more interested in national programming (from 50.9% in 2004 to 46.6% in 2014). One likely interpretation might be that telenovela interest in both groups declined somewhat as more options became available to them, as increasing numbers of people had access to multichannel television with its much greater variety of choices. However, this decline is relatively small: interest among the general audience is still over 42% in 2014, and interest among the audience with preference for national programming remained over 46%.

74 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Regional Programming Preferences In cultural proximity theory, regional television programming occupies a secondary position in audience preference. The theory presumes that national programming in most genres will be more popular if it is available, but that regional programming would be next in preference in genres where national production is not available. For much of the development of the Latin American regional television market, the most notable imported genres were telenovelas—that not every country could afford to produce (Rogers & Antola, 1985); highly produced variety shows like Televisa’s Siempre en Domingo and Sábado Gigante; sports like soccer games, and comedy shows, as not every country could afford scripted programs like the popular El Chavo from Mexico (Arriaga, 2006; Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). In countries with large numbers of domestic television productions, like Mexico, Brazil, and Argentina, the distance between domestic and regional program preference is largest. This is because they have long been major producers of the main genre involved in Latin American television trade: telenovelas (Roncagliolo, 1995; Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). In Mexico, in 2014, over two-thirds of respondents stated they were interested or very interested in domestic programming, while over half stated they were interested or very interested in TV programming from the U.S., and just over a quarter said they were interested or very interested in TV program from other Latin American countries, which was a notable increase from 2004. Like Brazil, Mexico had been a largely self-sufficient exporter of television to the rest of the region but has begun to import more formats and do more co-production in the last decade. In Brazil, in 2014, over half stated they were interested or very interested in domestic programming, while a close half said they were interested or very interested in TV programs from the U.S., almost a third said they were interested or very interested in TV programs from Europe and over a quarter said the same of program from other Latin American countries. The reverse is also true. Countries that produce the fewest telenovelas are the most interested in regional imports. That is notable in Chile, which produces some telenovelas but fewer than the major producers, as well as in Ecuador, Peru, and Venezuela, which used to be a major producer but no longer is, as noted above.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 75

National Program Preferences and SES From its original development (Straubhaar, 1991), one of the most widely acknowledged limits on cultural proximity among audience members has been social class (SES). National programs are fairly consistently popular across most audiences and audience segments. However, a number of in-­ depth interviews over the years 1989–2006 by Straubhaar in São Paulo and Salvador in Brazil led him to wonder if elite and upper-middle-class audiences were not somewhat less interested in national television and much more interested in finding alternatives to it through multichannel television (Straubhaar, 2003, 2007). As noted above, when SES is broken down into cultural capital, economic capital, and linguistic capital, each of those components has separate impacts, but it is useful to start with social class or SES as a whole. Figure 3.6 indicates that, as a baseline for comparison, overall or average domestic or national preference across eight Latin American countries has not varied that much from 2004 (59.3%) to 2014 (59.2%), across most SES groups or social classes. This supports the idea of a relatively stable national preference based on cultural proximity over time. As Iwabuchi first observed, both primary cultural capital (national or local preference) and especially secondary cultural capital (regional or cultural

Fig. 3.6  Latin American regional viewing interest x SES. All countries. (Source: TGI Latina)

76 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

linguistic group preference) are socially constructed and change over time (Iwabuchi, 2002), as the examples of changing preferences in Peru and Venezuela over time above show. However, in 2004, the top two SES groups in these eight Latin American countries had a significantly lower preference for national programming than the lowest 40% in SES terms, which had a significantly higher national preference. This pattern remained consistent across the years until 2014, although the differences were not always significant in statistical terms. A similar pattern was shown by better-­educated audiences and by those who were well above average in their fluency in English.

Analysis/Conclusion In most countries then (with the exception of Peru, where U.S. programming is preferred at higher rates than national programs—still unusual in Latin America), the concept of cultural proximity clearly applies when discussing national TV preference in opposition to foreign TV preference. It seems that at least in Latin American countries where national production has remained strong, national preference remains relatively high. Examining the results, cultural proximity is still a good overall explanation for local/domestic programming preferences, as predicted by Straubhaar (1991) and others; well over half of all respondents in all income groups stated they are interested or very interested in national television programming. Even the elites manifested an interest in national programming which, while lower than their interest in U.S. programming, remained much higher than interest for European or regional/other Latin American programming. It is notable that the predictions by dependency theory and cultural imperialism theory that elites would be co-opted into a more positive orientation to dominant cultures, like the U.S., seem to be true (Salinas & Paldan, 1979). By contrast, the poorest 40% of this Latin American audience, across all eight countries, show a greater interest in national programming in relation to their interest in foreign television. This fits with earlier studies that found that national cultural proximity was strong overall, but varied by class (Straubhaar, 1991, 2003). It is also worth noting that this sample of major metropolitan areas was biased toward audiences with greater income, greater education, more contact with foreign cultures, and so on than a national sample that would include more rural areas and smaller towns. This sample should be more

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 77

challenging to cultural proximity, since it contains more people with the constituent elements of higher-class status that, as observed in this data, tends to reduce cultural proximity. However, going a bit more into detail reveals that preference for one of the signature forms of Latin American television, the telenovela, has declined somewhat, particularly among those who say that they don’t have an intrinsic preference for national production. Preference for national news, however, remains high. One possible explanation for this is that foreign entertainment can be substituted more easily for national entertainment than foreign news for national news in terms of proximity and relevance. The take-up of multichannel pay-TV has increased notably in Latin America, from 20% or less in most countries, to approaching or exceeding 50%, in ten years. As Internet penetration is growing even faster than pay-TV in most Latin American countries, according to the same data from TGI Latina, national television producers face new competition from services such as Netflix in some of the areas where they had been strongest, like television drama, particularly telenovelas but also series in some countries. One implication of these findings for cultural proximity theory is that it may have to be seen as less broad, covering all national production, and perhaps more as a continuing, but changing factor that may vary considerably by genre over time. Preliminary qualitative interviews among young people in the state of São Paulo by Straubhaar (2015) show that U.S. dramatic and comedy series are becoming increasingly popular among people under 40, and that national production of series, while increasing, has a hard time competing with the diversity and perceived quality of the series offered by the combination of pay-TV and Netflix (Straubhaar et  al., 2015). So, as Iwabuchi (2002) cautioned about the dynamic historical construction of cultural proximity, even a general favorable disposition toward national production will not necessarily save it from the competition by attractive imported programs, channels, or streaming options, especially when those come in genres historically underrepresented in national production, such as dramatic or comedy series, action–adventure series, police and detective series, or feature films. Indeed, given these factors, one might expect that, given the close geographical proximity, some common historical past and somewhat close cultural ties, that regional content would closely follow national preference, as predicted by earlier academic work on cultural proximity, noted above. However, it is U.S. TV programs, channels, and films that follow

78 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

the national preference in most cases, with exception of Peru, where preference for the U.S. programs surpasses national ones slightly, and Venezuela, where U.S. programs are the least preferred, perhaps because the campaign against U.S. popular culture, along with other U.S. global manifestations of power by the Chaves and Maduro governments (Petras, 2015). A key theoretical issue raised here is the direct empirical challenge of these results to the secondary or regional aspect of cultural proximity. In Latin America in the past, when some genre such as drama or melodrama was underrepresented in national production, there was a tendency, particularly in the era of dominance by national broadcast networks, to import such genre programs from within the region (Rogers & Antola, 1985). That phenomenon, visible already in the 1970s–1980s, was part of what gave rise to cultural proximity theory (Straubhaar, 1991) and theorization about flows within geo-cultural regions (Sinclair, 1999) in the first place. Furthermore, the combination of increasing national production and increasing regional flows in more expensive genres, like melodrama and scripted comedy, seemed to be part of what forestalled any rapid spread of pay-TV in Latin America in the 1990s (Reis, 1999). It seems that cultural proximity theory applied reasonably well to Latin American regional programming in the broadcast era, but it may well have changed since the late 2000s, in the pay-TV, satellite, and cable television era that is now growing rapidly in Latin America with the growth of a large new lower-middle class in many countries in the region (Ferreira et  al., 2012). As noted above, upper and upper-middle social classes have historically been more disposed to foreign television programming (Straubhaar, 2003). Parallel work from the same data analyzed here on preferences for U.S. and European programming shows that higher levels of economic capital, cultural capital (education), and linguistic capital (intensive study of English) all connect to greater preference for foreign, non-regional television. Data reported here shows that socio-economic status, as a combined index of those factors, relates to lower preference for national programs and greater preference for foreign ones. Empirically, we know that considerable economic mobility has taken place after 2000, across the region but particularly in Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico (Straubhaar et al., 2015). Many in the Latin American audiences increasingly have the money for pay-TV and broadband Internet. Many also are keeping their children in school much longer, so cultural capital, per se, which may be linked to greater comprehension of imported programming, is also increasing.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 79

These social factors among the audience create a dynamic in which technological options for other kinds of TV viewing may have more impact now than before 2000. Several authors who have worked with applying cultural proximity theory in other regions, such as East Asia (Iwabuchi, 2002), note that cultural proximity at the regional level is a very dynamic concept, changing as the relationships between countries in the region develop over time. Some countries, such as Chile, Peru, Colombia, and Mexico, are engaged in a greater economic and cultural approximation with the U.S., notably evidenced by the recent Pacific free trade negotiations, in which these countries participated. Brazil may also be moving somewhat more cautiously in this direction. Others, notably, Argentina, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Venezuela, have supported more left oriented governments, in which both commercial national stations and imported commercial channels, have been under greater challenge and in which anti-U.S. rhetoric is more visible. However, those governments have recently been under stress and challenge across Latin America, as the government change in Argentina in 2015 indicates, so this is also very dynamic over time. The region is moving in several different directions, as a wide variety of political commentators have noted, all with implications for television. As noted above, audience preferences are also perhaps changing with new technologies that provide wider viewing choices, matched with increasing affluence and greater education, moving more people into the middle classes. Latin American upper-middle classes have long diverged from broad popular sentiment to have a somewhat greater interest in imported U.S. culture and television programs. It may be that Latin America is coming to resemble Europe, where national programming is most preferred, but regional programs lag behind preferences for U.S. programs (Buonanno, 2008).

References Abu-Lughod, L. (2005). Dramas of nationhood: The politics of television in Egypt. University of Chicago Press. Acosta-Alzuru, C. (2015). De protagonista a extra: La telenovela venezolana. Paper presented at the ALAIC, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Adriaens, F., & Biltereyst, D. (2011). Glocalized telenovelas and national identities: A ‘textual cum production’ analysis of the ‘telenovelle’ Sara, the flemish adaptation of Yo soy Betty, la fea. Television & New Media, 13(6), 551–567. https://doi.org/10.1177/1527476411427926

80 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Anderson, B. (1983). Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. Verso. Antola, A., & Rogers, E.  M. (1984). Television flows in Latin America. Communication Research, 11(2), 183–202. Arriaga, P. (2006). Pepito, El Chavo, and Bob Esponja. Televizion, 19(E), 30–31. Baran, P.  A., & Sweezy, P. (1968). Monopoly capital: An essay on the American economic and social order. Modern Reader Paperbacks. Barrios, M. M., Arroyave, J., & Miller, T. (2018). Prime-Time Narcos: The Mafia and Gender in Colombian Television. Feminist Media Studies, 10(14680777.2018), 1434223. Bielby, D. D., & Harrington, C. L. (2008). Global TV: Exporting television and culture in the world market. NYU Press. Bondebjerg, I. (2016). Transnational Europe: TV-drama, co-production networks and mediated cultural encounters. Palgrave Communications, 2(1), 1–13. Bondebjerg, I., Redvall, E. N., Helles, R., Lai, S. S., Søndergaard, H., & Astrupgaard, C. (2017). Transnational European television drama: Production, genres and audiences. Springer. Bourdieu, P. (1991). Language and symbolic power (G. Raymond & M. Adamson, Trans.; J. B. Thompson Ed.). Polity/Blackwell. Boyd-Barrett, O. (1977). Media imperialism: Towards an international framework for the analysis of media systems. In J. E. A. Curran (Ed.), Mass communication and society. Arnold. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction. Translated by Richard Nice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Buonanno, M. (Ed.). (1999). Imaginary dreamscapes: television fiction in Europe: Eurofiction first report 1997. University of Luton Press. Buonanno, M. (Ed.). (2002). Convergences: Eurofiction fourth report. LIguri. Buonanno, M. (2004a). Alem da proximidade cultural: não contra a identidade mas a favor de alteridade (Beyond cultural proximity: Not against identity but in favor of alterity). In M.  I. Vassallo de Lopes (Ed.), Telenovela— Internacionalização e interculturalidade (pp. 331–360). Edições Loyola. Buonanno, M. (2004b). Foreign fiction: From threat to resource: Toward a new critical theory of international television flows. Studies in Communication Sciences, 4(1), 31–47. Buonanno, M. (2008). The age of television: Experiences and theories. Intellect Books. Cabrera, G. A. (2018). The global expansion of televisa. In Business despite borders (pp. 49–63). Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. Canclini, N. G. (1995). Hybrid cultures: Strategies for entering and leaving modernity. University of Minnesota Press. Chalaby, J. K. (2017). Can a GVC-oriented policy mitigate the inequalities of the world media system? Strategies for economic upgrading in the TV format global value chain. International Journal of Digital Television, 8(1), 9–28.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 81

Chan, J.  M. (1994). National responses and accessibility to STAR TV in Asia. Journal of Communication, 44(3), 70–88. Collins, R. (1986). Wall-to-wall Dallas? The US-UK trade in Television. Screen (May–August), 66–77. Cunha, I.  F. (2011). Memórias de Telenovela: Programas e recepção. Livros Horizonte. de Lopes, M. I. V. (2002). Vivendo com a telenovela: mediações, recepção, teleficcionalidade (Vol. 66). Summus Editorial. de Lopes, M. I. V., & Orozco Gómez, G. (Eds.). (2019). Television distribution models by the Internet: Actors, technologies, strategies. Obitel Porto Alegre, Brazil, Sulina. De Sola Pool, I. (1977). The changing flow of television. Journal of Communication, 27(2), 139–149. Duarte, L. G. (2001). Due South: American Television ventures into Latin America (PhD). Michigan State University, East Lansing, MI. Erlick, J. C. (2017). Telenovelas in Pan-Latino context. Routledge. Ferreira, F. H. G., Messina, J., Rigolini, J., López-Calva, L.-F., Lugo, M. A., & Vakis, R. (2012). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. World Bank Group. Forero, G. A., Coba, L. G., Gutiérrez, A. F., Valderrama, J. V., Penagos, R. P., Avellaneda, L.  C. B., & De Reyes, A.  G. (2009). The media in Colombia, 63–76. The Handbook of Spanish Language Media. Edited by Alan Albarran. London: Routledge. Fox, E. (1992). Cultural Dependency Thrice Revisited. International Association for Mass Communication Research, Guarujá, Brazil. Gitlin, T. (1998). Under the signs of Mickey Mouse and Bruce Willis. New Perspectives Quarterly, 15, 4–7. González, J. (1997). The willingness to weave: cultural analysis, cultural fronts and the networks of the future. Media Development, XLIV(1), 30–36. González-Hernández, D. (2018, Spring). Viewing television in a shared U.S.Mexico Media Space. Journal of Transborder Studies - Research and Practice. Guback, T. (1984). International circulation of U.S. theatrical films and television programming. In G.  Gerbner & M.  Siefert (Eds.), World communications (pp. 153–163). Lingman Incorporated. Hoskins, C., & Mirus, R. (1988). Reasons for the US dominance of the international trade in television programmes. Media, Culture & Society, 10(4), 499–515. Hyun, K. (2007). New Asian cultural proximity, Korean modernity in between, and reception of Korean TV drama in East Asia. Paper presented at the Intercultural/Developmental Communication division, International Communication Association, San Francisco, U.S.

82 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Ito, Y. (1991). The trade winds shift—Japan’s shift from an information importer to an information exporter. In Communication yearbook (Vol. 14, pp. 430–465). Sage. Iwabuchi, K. (2002). Recentering globalization: Popular culture and Japanese transnationalism. Duke University Press. Katz, E., & Wedell, G. (1976). Broadcasting in the third world. Harvard University Press. La Pastina, A., & Straubhaar, J. (2005). Multiple proximities between television genres and audiences: The Schism between Telenovelas’ global distribution and local consumption. Gazette, 67(3), 271–288. La Pastina, A., Rego, C., & Straubhaar, J. (2003). The centrality of telenovelas in Latin America’s everyday life: Past tendencies, current knowledge, and future research. Global Media Journal. Retrieved from http://lass.calumet.purdue. edu/cca/gmj/contents.htm Lapidus, I. M. (2014). A history of Islamic societies. Cambridge University Press. Lee, C. (1980). Media imperialism reconsidered. Sage Publications. Lopes, M.  I. V.  D. (2009). Telenovela as a communicative resource. Revista MATRIZes, 3(1):1–23. Lopes, M. I. V. D. (2014). Mediation and reception. Some theoretical and methodological connections in Latin American communication studies. Matrizes, 8(1), 1–18. Lopes, M. I. V. d., & Orozco Gómez, G. (Eds.). (2014). Transmedia Production Strategies in Television Fiction. Ibero-American Observatory of Television Fiction. Rio de Janeiro, OBITEL, Globo Comunicação e Participações S.A., Editora Meridional Ltda. Lopes, M.  I. V.  D., & Lemos, L.  P. (2019). BRASIL: Streaming, tudo junto e misturado. Vassallo de Lopes, I. & Orozco, G. Modelos de distribuição da televisão por internet: atores, tecnologias, estratégias, 73–108. Lotz, A. D. (2014). The television will be revolutionized. NYU Press. Lozano, J. C. (2011). Consumption of US television and films in Northeastern Mexico. The International Communication Gazette, 73(8), 685–705. Ma, E. K. (2005). Culture, politics and television in Hong Kong. Routledge. Martin-Barbero, J. (1987). De los medios a las mediaciones: Comunicación, cultura y hegemonía. G. Gili. Martín-Barbero, J., & Muñoz, S. (1992). Televisión y melodrama. Bogotá: Tercer Mundo. Mattelart, M., & Mattelart, A. (1990). The carnival of images: Brazilian television fiction. Greenwood Publishing Group. Mattos, S. (1984). Advertising and government influences on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 203–220. Miller, T. (2001). Global Hollywood. London British Film Institute.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 83

Miller, T., Govil, N., McMurria, J., Maxwell, R., Wang, T., Shohat, E., & Corrigan, T. (2005). Global Hollywood 2. Pearson Longman. Mazziotti, N. (2006). La expansión de la telenovela. Contratexto, (014), 127–140. Mazziotti, N., & Frey-Vor, G. (1996). Telenovela e soap opera. Comunicação & Educação, (6), 47–57. Nordenstreng, K., & Varis, T. (1974). Television traffic—A one-way street. UNESCO. Oliveira, O. S. D. (1993). Brazilian soaps outshine Hollywood: Is cultural imperialism fading out? In K.  Nordenstreng & H.  Schiller (Eds.), Beyond national sovereignty: International communication in the 1990s. Ablex Pub. Co. Orozco Gómez, G. (2006). La telenovela en México:¿ de una expresión cultural a un simple producto para la mercadotecnia?. Comunicación y sociedad, (6), 11–35. Orozco, G., & Miller, T. (2017). La Televisión más allá de sí misma en América Latina. Comunicación y sociedad (30), 107–127. Park, D. J. (2002). Media, democracy, and human rights in Argentina. Journal of Communication Inquiry, 26(3), 237–260. Petras, J. (2015, April 3). US and Venezuela: Decades of defeats and destabilization. Retrieved from http://petras.lahaine.org/?p=2023 Piñon, J. (2019). Disruption and continuity on telenovela with the surge of a new hybrid prime-time fictional serial: The super series. Critical Studies in Television, 14(2), 204–221. Porto, M. P. (1998). Telenovelas and politics in the 1994 Brazilian presidential election. Communication Review (The), 2(4), 433–459. Presburger, P., & Tyler, M. R. (1989). Television without frontiers: Opportunity and debate created by the New European community directive. Hastings International and Comparative Law Review, 13, 495. Ramirez, M. E. (2017). 10 typical roles of women in Spanish Telenovelas. Odyssey. Retrieved from https://www.theodysseyonline.com/10-­roles-­women-­ spanish-­telenovelas Reis, R. (1999). What prevents Cable TV from taking off in Brazil? Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 43(3), 399–415. Rivero, Y. M. (2013). Watching TV in Havana: Revisiting the local/global television past through the lens of the television present. In Global communication (pp. 60–75). Routledge. Rivero, Y.  M. (2015). Broadcasting modernity: Cuban commercial television, 1950–1960. Duke University Press. Rogers, E. M., & Antola, L. (1985). Telenovelas: A Latin American success story. Journal of Communication, 35(4), 24–35. Roncagliolo, R. (1995). Trade integration and communication networks in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communication, 20(3), 335–42.

84 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Rubim, L.  S. (2001). A representação feminina na TV brasileira. X Encontro Nacional da COMPÓS. Brasília. Salinas, R., & Paldan, L. (1979). Culture in the process of dependent development: Theoretical perspectives. In K.  Nordenstreng & H.  I. Schiller (Eds.), National sovereignty and international communications. Ablex Publishing Corp. Santos, L. (2003). How fiction consumes serialized fiction: Radionovelas, telenovelas and contemporary Latin American narrative. Global Media Journal, 2(2), 1–22. Schiller, H. I. (1969). Mass Communication and American Empire. Boston, Beacon. Schiller, H.  I. (1976). Communication and cultural domination. International Arts and Sciences Press. Schiller, H. I. (1991). Not yet the post-Imperialist Era. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 13–28. Schlesinger, P. (1993). Wishful thinking: Cultural politics, media, and collective identities in Europe. Journal of Communication, 43(2), 6–17. Sinclair, J. (1992). The decentering of globalization: Televisa-Ion and Globo-­ Ization. In Continental shift: Globalisation and culture, Double Bay, NSW: Local Consumption Publications, 99–116. Sinclair, J. (1998). Latin American television: A global view. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Sinclair, J., & Harrison, M. (2004). Globalization, nation, and television in Asia: The cases of India and China. Television & New Media, 5(1), 41–54. https:// doi.org/10.1177/1527476403259747 Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. BFI/Palgrave. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New patterns in global television (pp. 1–15). Oxford University Press. Straubhaar, J. D. (1981). The transformation of cultural dependency: The decline of American influence on the Brazilian television industry (Ph.D.). Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University. Straubhaar, J. D. (1982). The development of the telenovela as the pre-eminent form of popular culture in Brazil. Studies in Latin American Popular Culture, 1(13), 8–50. Straubhaar, J. (1984). The decline of American influence on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 221–240. Straubhaar, J. (1991a). Beyond media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59. Straubhaar, J. D. (1991b). Class, genre and the regionalization of the television market in Latin America. Journal of Communication, 41(1), 53–69.

3  WHY LATIN AMERICAN AUDIENCES STAY LOYAL TO NATIONAL BROADCAST… 85

Straubhaar, J. (2003). Choosing national TV: Cultural capital, language, and cultural proximity in Brazil. In M. G. Elasmar (Ed.), The impact of international television: A paradigm shift. Erlbaum Associates. Straubhaar, J. D. (2007). World television: From global to local. SAGE Publications. Straubhaar, J. (2012). Telenovelas in Brazil. From travelling scripts to a genre and proto-format both national and transnational. In Global television formats: Understanding television across borders, edited by Tasha Oren and Sharon Sharaf. London: Routledge. 148–177. Straubhaar, J., Higgins Joyce, V., Sinta, V., McConnell, C. L., & Spence, J. P. (2015a). Changing class formations and changing television viewing: The New Middle Class, television and pay television in Brazil and Mexico, 2003–2013. Paper presented at the ICA Annual Conference, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Straubhaar, J., Spence, J., Joyce, V., & Duarte, L. (2015b). The evolution of television: An analysis of 10 years of TGI Latin America (2004–2014). CreateSpace, Scotts Valley, CA. Trepte, S. (2008). Cultural proximity in TV entertainment: An eight-country study on the relationship of nationality and the evaluation of U.S. prime-time fiction. Communications, 33(1), 1–25. Tunstall, J. (2008). The media were American. New York: Oxford University Press. Waisbord, S. (1998a). Latin America. In A. Smith & R. Paterson (Eds.), Television: An international history. Oxford University Press. Waisbord, S. (1998b). The ties that still bind: Media and national cultures in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communication, 23, 381–401. Wallach, J. (2011). Meu capítulo na TV Globo. Editora Topbooks. Wallerstein, I. (1979). The capitalist world-economy (Vol. 2). Cambridge University Press. Wilkinson, K. (1995). Where culture, language and communication converge: The Latin-American cultural linguistic market. (Ph.D.). University of Texas-Austin. Zizola, F. (2014). Brazil’s new middle class. Retrieved from http://noorimages. com/feature/brazils-­new-­middle-­class/

CHAPTER 4

The Persistence of the Popularity of US Television

One of the key issues that lead us to rethink the ideas of national and regional cultural proximity is that the presence of US television remained strong in Latin American television broadcasting and yet increased in cable and satellite-based pay-TV, and again with streaming. While the main national television channels have heavily relied on national programming for decades—Brazilian TV Globo, for example, had over 80% of national programming since the 1980s, and similarly, with Mexican Televisa— many other TV channels kept using a great deal of imported programming, mostly US, but also Japanese, European, and recently Turkish and Korean. There was also a continuing, often dominant US presence in film, both in theaters and on television itself. From the 1980s on, quite a bit more US programming came into Latin America, on via cable channels like MTV, HBO, CNN, drama and comedy channels, and so on to viewers who could afford them, in terms of economic capital, and those who could understand and enjoy them, in terms of cultural and linguistic capitals (Bourdieu, 1986; Straubhaar, 2003; Straubhaar et  al., 2019). (Chap. 5 will examine the impact of pay-TV more fully). More flowed in from the new media of websites, digital music services, and music videos from MTV to YouTube (Duarte et al., 2007). Then since 2010, streaming services like Netflix brought a huge amount of US drama, comedy, feature films,

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_4

87

88 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

documentaries, and others into Latin America, which is covered in Chap. 6. The inflow of US programming, from the late 1980s on, was particularly visible on cable and satellite TV, which were largely filled with US channels, although European and Japanese channels were prominent in some countries to serve immigrant populations that still spoke those languages and felt nostalgia for those cultures. We will examine these trends in terms of theories of cultural and media imperialism, and also in terms of globalization. In terms of audience preferences, we turn to the appeal of the foreign and try to understand what leads some audiences to seek and access programming from outside the nation and region, specifically programming from the United States and Europe.

Structural Factors Favoring the Commercial System of US Television A great deal of US influence on Latin American television and its audiences relates to economic, political, and social structures that have been deeply influenced by the US and other industrialized countries. The question is complicated, since Latin American had its own core commercial system, left as a post-colonial legacy by the Spanish and Portuguese empires (Lockhart & Schwartz, 1983; Sinclair, 1999). That left not only a pattern of family commercial empires that found their way into radio and television, but also modalities of state-media interaction like corporatism, clientelism, and authoritarian populism that powerfully structured media (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). So when US influence started permeating the region more strongly after Latin American independence in the early 1800s (Chasteen, 2001), the roots of media development in Latin America had been characterized by the interaction of a post-colonial Iberian legacy, the interests of emerging nation-states and businesses, regional patterns of state-media interaction, and the neocolonial influence of the US. Some of the latter was driven by US policy, from the Monroe Doctrine through various other interventions, that were ostensibly enacted to keep post-­ colonial Latin America from re-colonization by other powers, but also served to carve out an American sphere of economic markets, resources, and political allies (Knight, 2001; Livingstone, 2013). Latin American newspapers and commercial media groups evolved early, primarily in an interaction with the emerging nation-states over the creation and control of national identity (Anderson, 1983; Fox, 1997).

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

89

However, US influence on media grew rapidly (Waisbord, 1996). US advertisers and advertising agencies like J.  Walter Thompson began to operate in Latin America in the 1920s (Fejes, 1980; Janus, 1977; Scanlon, 2003), along with US radio broadcasting companies and equipment makers like GE (Schwoch, 1990), direct shortwave broadcasting from the US into Latin America (Fejes, 1986). US policy favored US commercial interests, such as film exports to the region (Boyd-Barrett & Mirrlees, 2019). As the twentieth century developed, Latin American entrepreneurs complemented and also competed with US interests. Local media companies were usually based in large family owned media empires, who often had radio and newspaper interests, and saw commercial television as a new way to make money (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Another key aspect of this intertwined dependent development was the growth of groups like the Inter American Press Association, from 1926 on, which brought US pressure to help defend freedom of the press in Latin America (Gardner, 1965), but also served to reinforce and defend both Latin American and US commercial interests, sometimes against what were seen as within Latin American nations like Bolivia as progressive reforms (Knudson, 1973). One useful theorization for this kind of growth of intertwined industry in Latin American history is dependent development (Cardoso, 1970, 1973; Evans, 1979), in which the national governments, national capital, and foreign capital compete and cooperate to gain profit, influence, and power. Evans calls this the tripod of dependent development (1979) and it applies quite well to broadcast television in Latin America, where very strong industries grew, but were still strongly influenced by national government and by foreign capital, particularly at key moments in the start or redevelopment of broadcasters, like the start of TV Globo in Brazil in a joint venture with Time-Life, which was ended by government intervention (Straubhaar, 1984). That example is revealing of the complexity of dependent development. The military government of Brazil initially tolerated the 1964 Time-Life and TV Globo joint venture, even though it violated the Brazilian constitution, which prohibited foreign ownership or foreign managers of media (Calmon, 1966), but forced Time-Life out as soon as TV Globo was profitable (Straubhaar, 1981). The military wanted a strong truly national commercial network to help reinforce national identity and to grow commercial development in Brazil, to turn Brazil into a consumer society, which they thought would reduce the appeal of socialism (Mattos, 1982; Mattos, 2002). Time-Life initially recommended large scale programming

90 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

of US imports, but that strategy yielded low ratings, so the second Time-­ Life representative in Brazil recommended using its money for a talent raid on other broadcasters to build up a strong line of national genre programming in telenovelas, variety shows and music, which did indeed turn TV Globo into the strongest national network in Brazil (Straubhaar, 1981, 1984). That Time-Life representative, Joe Wallach, then nationalized as a Brazilian citizen so he could become the financial manager for TV Globo, building up national affiliates across the country and greatly increasing national advertising (Wallach, 2011). All these forces have promoted the adoption in Latin America of commercial approaches to broadcasting, which often favor entertainment, although national newscasts are usually very popular, along with talk shows and political discussions (Straubhaar, 1984). That keeps certain entertainment genres and modalities of programming, like action-­ adventure, animation, and drama series, open to the prodigious output of Hollywood, even though Latin American companies have also been very successful at creating their own hybrid, regional genres, like telenovelas, music programs, and variety shows, drawing on US models but often developing distinct national and regional versions, as noted in Chap. 3. However, Latin American producers have only recently begun to create certain kinds of television that have been popular: dramatic series, action-­ adventure series, cartoons, documentaries, and other large foreign genres that have remained popular with Latin American audiences (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013; Lopes & Lemos, 2019).

Cultural Imperialism and the Deeper Structural Factors Favoring the Popularity of US Television Cultural imperialism theories tend to see US influence in Latin America as a part of a larger form of imperialism (Schiller, 1969). Imperialism theories tend to see dominant countries as seeking control over others to expand and control markets for their own goods such as cars and other manufactured goods, seek lower cost resources and raw materials for goods as varied as oil and orange juice, seek lower cost labor pools such as the maquiladora factories in northern Mexico, and find investment opportunities for capital, such as when ABC and Time-Life sought investment opportunities in television in the 1960s–1970s (Galtung, 1971; Harvey, 2005; Magdoff, 1969; Wells, 1972). A number of Latin American authors

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

91

have written within this framework, along with dependency and dependent development, mentioned above (Dos Santos, 1978; Ianni, 1979). Within this larger matrix of imperial interests and patterns, cultural imperialism is often seen as the ideological mechanism through media and other cultural forms for drawing people in Latin America into accepting the forms through which imperialism operates (Beltran & Fox de Cardona, 1980; Dorfman & Mattlelart, 1975; Schiller, 1969). Dos Santos and others note that in Latin America, these mechanisms are frequently structured by class (1978). Dos Santos particularly notes that a key mechanism of both dependency and imperialism is to draw Latin American elites into identifying their own interests with those of the imperial or dominant powers. He and others argue that there is a cultural dimension to this in which national elites come to prefer the cultural products of the US and Europe, to show their own social and cultural distinction from others in society (Dagnino, 1973). We are going to argue that this aspect of cultural dependence, or imperialism, is particularly key for the tendency by upper-middle classes and elites to seek out US television programs and channels, the adoption of pay-TV, and, later, streaming television in Latin America. We explore some of the mechanisms for this later in the chapter, how diverse aspects of social class affect interest in US and European culture and media, with elites and upper-middle classes who possess forms of cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1986) oriented to the US or Europe in Latin America often coming to favor imported US or European genres such as high quality drama (Vilela, 2019), cultural elements such as gay/lesbian themes in US television such as HBO (La Pastina, 2002) and depictions of social democracy in Scandinavian shows (Jacobsen & Jensen, 2020). The deeper structural context for the acceptance and popularity of US television includes the long history of deep exposure to US film, music, magazines, and comics in Latin America. Exposure to extensive ongoing exports of these popular US media to Latin America since the 1910s–1920s seems to have cultivated an audience over time by dint of constant exposure, to the point where American popular culture seemed like a familiar second cultural identity (Gitlin, 1998). It is noteworthy that one of the first denunciations of cultural imperialism in Latin America was an analysis of how Disney comics showed US consumer society as a model for Latin Americans (Dorfman & Mattlelart, 1975). The argument here is that the long exposure to US culture across the twentieth century probably did create a strong underlying audience for a variety of US genres. For

92 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

example, writing about European audiences, Bondebjorg et al. say, “US-­ UK drama has become a closer encounter for European audiences after decades of being exposed to rather large quantities of such products” (Bondebjerg et al., 2017, p. 26). However, attempts to examine the effects of US programming on Latin American audiences through television, including as a direct example of cultivation theory, seldom showed significant results (Elasmar, 2002; Salwen, 1991). Part of the problem was that US programming was not prevalent enough on the main television stations in Latin America to provide the ongoing, extensive exposure that cultivation and other theories of strong effect assumed (Straubhaar, 2003). So we have an interesting paradox. Latin America has been heavily exposed to US music, film, comics, and so on for decades before the arrival of television. Furthermore, there is evidence that US programming was prominent in Latin American television schedules in the early 1970s (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974). However, there is also evidence that in the 1970s–1980s, more and more Latin American television networks created more and more of their own programming, particularly in prime time (Straubhaar, 2007). Several studies in the 1980s that looked at both programming schedules and which programs were drawing the strongest audiences found that national and regional programs had the largest audiences (Antola & Rogers, 1984; Straubhaar, 1981; Straubhaar, 1984), as noted in Chap. 3. What has resulted in Latin American television broadcasting is a blended system in which national programming on the main national channels is the predominant audience favorite, as noted in Chap. 3, but in which U.S. programming is also available and popular with some. In this sense Latin America was an early post-colonial forerunner of what is emerging as a dominant global system, in which national culture on television is usually preferred, when available (Buonanno, 2008; Straubhaar, 1991). However, second place is often contested between regional cultural flows and the continuing power and popularity of US culture (Gitlin, 1998). Quite a bit of research on Latin America in the 1980s–1990s stressed the growth of regional programming flows and their popularity (Sinclair et al., 1996; Straubhaar, 1991). However, as we shall see below, when audience preferences were examined for the 2000s–2010s, US programming was consistently rated higher than regional television programs, except in a few smaller countries that did not produce the most popular Latin American genres, such as telenovelas, for themselves.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

93

Key empirical questions, therefore, are in which kinds of networks, aimed at what kinds of audiences, did US programming persist on broadcast television? What did satellite and cable pay-TV networks do to strengthen the presence of US programming? (Covered more in Chap. 5.) What are US-based streaming networks, like Netflix, HBO Max, and Amazon Prime, doing to expand it now? (Covered more in Chap. 6.) How do audiences respond to that programming in terms of their viewing preferences?

The Persistence of US TV Programs on Broadcast Channels Nearly all television networks and stations in Latin America have usually shown some US programs and films. For some, it was to feature particularly popular US films and series within a largely national program schedule. Other stations and networks showed more US programming as they tried to find audience segments who wanted something other than national telenovelas, variety shows, music, and news. A thorough examination of the programming by stations in São Paulo, Brazil, in the period 1971–1983 showed that the dominant network, TV Globo, showed very little US programming in prime time, except for some movie nights, but tended to show quite a bit in late night after 11 p.m., and some in morning times devoted to cartoons for children (Straubhaar, 1981; 1984). Over the years, some networks went head to head with TV Globo with telenovelas and news, such as TV Manchete and more recently TV Record (Lopes & Lemos, 2019), or with a much larger emphasis on national variety shows, on SBT (Sistema Brasileira de Televisão). Several of those succeeded in drawing away key audience niches from TV Globo, such as SBT and TV Record, directly targeting the lower-­ middle and working classes with variety shows, reality TV, and alternative types of telenovelas (Borelli & Priolli, 2000). These networks also tended to feature somewhat more US programming than did Globo, particularly series and movies. SBT and TV Record began to draw away working class audiences with more reality programming and variety shows that featured more working-­ class people on screen. Interviewing working class residents of Salvador, Brazil in 2003–2005, Straubhaar found people turning away from TV Globo because they did not see people like themselves on screen, while La

94 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Pastina interviewed people in the rural Northeast who also complained that they did not feel that they belonged to the Brazil shown on TV Globo (La Pastina & Straubhaar, 2014). Upper class audiences were also less engaged with telenovela-style programming but watched them to know what was going on in the national discussion (Leal & Oliven, 1988). Straubhaar found similar trends in interviewing in São Paulo and Salvador, that elites and upper-middle classes still consumed some popular culture and news via broadcast television (2007), but depended more on elite Brazilian media, particularly magazines and newspapers. For television, both interviews and surveys showed that better educated people tended to prefer foreign films and television, usually from the US (Straubhaar, 1991).

The Structural Context for Latin American Elite Audiences From a historical or political economic analysis, elites and upper-middle classes in Latin America are drawn by conditions of cultural dependency toward a focus on imported culture. Dependency theorists argued that the system of dependency tended to push elites toward engagement with the educational systems and cultures of the foreign powers on which they were dependent (Chilcote, 1974; Dos Santos, 1973, 1978). The pattern started in the colonial era. For example, in Brazil, the Portuguese allowed no universities or printing of books in Brazil before 1808 when the invasion of Portugal by Napoleon forced the crown and the imperial bureaucracy to move to Brazil. Their goal had been to force the Brazilian elite to stay immersed in Portuguese culture and dependent on Portuguese institutions like universities and presses (Maxwell, 2004; Paquette, 2013). The process continued in the post-colonial era with Great Britain, France, and the US all competing for intellectual and cultural hegemony in Latin America. Great Britain and the US tended to move in most assertively to replace the Spanish as trade and investment partners, with the US most prominent, at least outside Argentina and Chile (O’Brien, 2007). The US also pressed most into the areas of mass media and popular culture, through advertising, radio, and film (see above). By the twentieth century, there was considerable competition by France and the US to influence and guide university growth (Ben-David, 2017). While the US

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

95

was most visible, French scholars and university ties helped found some major schools like the University of São Paulo (USP) (Dausch et al., 2016). When Straubhaar visited the two main communication research faculties, USP and the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro regularly in 1977–1979 to research a dissertation on Brazilian television (1981), he found the faculty very divided between whether they had done graduate work in France, learned French and studied the French canon of literature, or engaged the US equivalent (2007). Very few had done both; so there was a sort of critical path dependency in their careers (Schreyögg & Sydow, 2010), with much of what they did depending on which post-colonial power they had engaged through graduate study. France, Great Britain, and the US all actively promote learning their languages and going to study in their countries (Phillipson, 2012). From Straubhaar’s observations in Brasilia, Rio, and São Paulo, 1977–1979, all three countries competed actively to attract language students, send students abroad to their countries, and promote their national cultures in Brazil via film, music, traveling cultural and academic events, and events at their own cultural centers, engaging in what is often called cultural and public diplomacy to advance their images and interests (Cull, 2008). Through observation and interviewing in 1977–1979 in major Brazilian cities, and again in 1989–1990, Straubhaar found that while working poor, working class, and middle class people were primarily interested in national television (Straubhaar, 2007), upper-middle classes and elites1 had a number of experiences that tended to maintain connections to the kinds of dependency on foreign cultures discussed above, as well as the acquisition of specific kinds of cultural capital that reinforced their disposition to pay more attention to foreign media like television. As Bourdieu (1986) developed the concept of cultural capital, he linked it to certain kinds of formative experiences and also to participation or competition in certain kinds of fields of activity. Latin American researchers and 1  Brazilian social classes can be distinguished by educational levels, which is most relevant to our analysis here. Class levels are established by the Brazilian national census bureau (IBGE). Their findings as of 2016 were summarized in Nes (2016). “Classes A and B: usually composed of those who have completed higher education. The younger generation in these classes tend to be fluent in several languages. Class C: most people in this class have finished high school and there is also a significant quantity of people who have completed higher education or have at least a technical level degree. Class D: people who tend not to finish high school. Class E: people who do not attend or finish elementary school and illiterate people.”

96 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

journalists often use a system of classes A–E to distinguish social classes. Upper-middle class (often referred to as Class B) and elite families (Class A) often engage with foreign cultures through their education, their work, their travel, their learning of languages, and their engagement with cultures and cultural products or experiences that are prestigious, which are often those from dominant countries like France, Great Britain, and the US (Straubhaar, 2007). Both Class A and B are more likely to go to university (Nes, 2016), but the elite, Class A, are more likely to go abroad for education, usually to France, Great Britain, the US or one of the original colonial powers, Portugal or Spain, which also actively recruit students from Latin America. Higher education has been connected to a greater propensity to watch US or European television in surveys (Straubhaar, 1991; Straubhaar et  al., 2016), which is explored below and in Chaps. 5 and 7. So has income, or economic capital, and languages learned, or linguistic capital (Straubhaar et al., 2016). What is harder to study through surveys is the disposition to be interested in foreign culture that is passed on through family patterns, such as what kinds of movies they watch, where they travel to, what they talk about, what seems to have prestige within the family or among peers. Bourdieu (1986) explored that as a push for social distinction, which we will explore in depth in Chap. 7, as it relates to television consumption by the upper-middle class and elite. These factors can be seen as individual patterns of choice and agency as in research traditions like uses and gratifications (Rubin & Perse, 1987) or reception studies (Livingstone, 1998), as family traditions and dispositions (Bertaux & Thompson, 1997), as competition in structural fields like education, elite culture, and social mobility (Bourdieu, 1986), but also in a more political economic context as the continuation of patterns of colonial and post-colonial dependency (dos Santos, 1973).

Impact of Transnational Pay-TV on the Increased Availability of US TV Although the 1990s advent of satellite and cable television devastated incumbent, usually government-controlled, television networks in many parts of the world, such as Eastern Europe, India, and the Arab World, the mass turn to these new technologies came only 10–15 years later in Latin America, in part because of the resistance of the strength of national

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

97

television shown in Chap. 3. This was in contrast to the expectations from some dependency and imperialism writers, who expected the impact of new foreign information technology to be much faster and much more devastating to national media industries in Latin America (Mattelart & Schmucler, 1985). The first wave of US cable and satellite television in Latin America in the 1980s was simply individuals with their own dishes, apartment buildings (via satellite master antenna systems), and local cable systems setting up antennas and distribution systems to pirate US television channel signals that were on C-Band satellites whose footprints covered Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean, and some other parts of Latin America (Straubhaar, 1988; Straubhaar, 1990). The next wave was when transnational channels, based in partnerships between US cable and satellite television operators, began to arrive in Latin America in the 1990s (Duarte, 2001; Duarte & Straubhaar, 2004). The main services were based on major US satellite television services, such as DirecTV, which had partnerships with Editora Abril (Brazil) and others, and Sky Latin America, which partnered News Corp., Liberty Media, Televisa, and TV Globo. (This is covered in more detail in Chap. 5).

Why Audiences Began to Choose Foreign TV More Often Availability alone, although necessary, does not account for audiences choosing to access a particular type of TV programming, even when a new technology makes it easier. Audiences engage in a series of decision-­ making processes when deciding which media, and from what origin, to spend their time with. Audiences are active in selecting what content from what origin would best satisfy or gratify their own needs (Rubin, 1994). Audiences spend their time and attention (and money) in hopes to gain something back from it: entertainment, information, knowledge, relaxation, pleasure, escape, social status, or even greater community contact (Severin & Tankard, 1992), to name a few. Some of the first major in-depth studies of foreign reception of a US global hit television series were the studies by Ang (1996) in Holland and Liebes and Katz (1990), and collaborators in Israel, about reception by different ethnic groups of the US drama series Dallas, which had been exported to dozens of countries. (It had much less success in Latin America

98 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

where it seemed very much like a foreign telenovela, which wasn’t as interesting as their own.) Liebes and Katz concluded that there was a strong attraction to a series like Dallas. They thought that at one level the series is a very “primordial tale” that asks very basic, but also mythological questions of a society, which gave it a universal potential. Reception also differed greatly among different ethnic groups like Russian versus Mid-Eastern immigrants to Israel (Liebes and Katz 1990: 141).

The Growing Appeal in Latin America of the Big Wave of US Programs on Pay-TV After years of surprisingly low uptake in many countries in Latin America (Reis, 1999), multichannel penetration received a boost in the mid-to-late 2000s, making it more possible than ever to access foreign television programming and movies. This change toward new television technology use in audience behavior was driven by two major changes. The first was a wave of economic growth and expansion in the late 1990s through the 2010s that greatly increased the lower-middle class and middle class in most countries in Latin America, as well as lifting many in several countries into the upper-middle class. This growth in individual or family economic capital (Bourdieu, 1986) made several kinds of new technology purchases or subscriptions much easier to make, which resulted in a huge increase in the number of people with pay-TV and the Internet to over half the population in most countries, up from 20% or less in most countries, according to the TGI data. We will examine the literature within the region on this to put our data into perspective. That issue is treated in more depth in Chap. 5. Second, that same economic growth went along with a substantial increase in education levels in many countries. If we take theoretical perspectives from Bourdieu (1986), we can break down social class into economic capital, which allows new purchases of new technologies and services, and also cultural, linguistic, and symbolic capitals, which seems to change people’s knowledge, interests, and their abilities to enjoy new forms of culture from outside their own national or regional cultures. We explore those and related theories in this chapter, then apply them to understanding the new, resulting television program preferences of Latin American audiences with increased US content on pay-TV after 2004 in Chap. 5, and to the new wave of streaming technologies in Chaps. 6 and 7.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

99

What are some of the social and individual dispositions influencing Latin American audiences in selecting an exposure to programming from the United States and Europe? On the one hand, Bourdieu’s concepts (1986) of cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals tap into economic or social advantages and gains that can be perceived to be accessible through the use of foreign cultural production, such as foreign television, as well as the necessary social and economic conditions to access and enjoy such programming. The concept of cosmopolitanism, on the other hand, looks into individual disposition internalized as a global identity, or openness to and affinity toward cultural diversity (Türken & Rudmin, 2013), which would then lead into an interest in TV programming from beyond the national. Furthermore, age or generation is a major issue, too, since youth have often been supposed to be more international or global in their interests (Banks, 1997). Both of these concepts and audience data about them are examined in detail in Chap. 7.

Changes in Latin American Audiences for US Television Increased channel availability fueled by the growth of multichannel television penetration throughout the ten years for which we have TGI data apparently somewhat altered the original preference for domestic programming across the region. (For information on the TGI survey and method, see the details in Chap. 3.) It remains high in most countries, even increasing in some. However, there were some declines for it within some of the eight Latin American countries that might be connected to multichannel availability, as well as, in the case of Venezuela, political upheaval and a radical decrease in national telenovela production, as analyzed in the previous chapter. During this period, we see a modest increase of interest in programs and films from the United States, with 48% of Latin Americans living in major metropolitan areas in eight countries2 stating they were interested or very interested in television programs and films from the United States in 2004 while in 2014, 53% of Latin Americans expressed interest in such 2  Since the TGI sample is only of major metropolitan areas, not a genuine national sample, we have to be very careful about generalizing to either national or regional populations as a whole.

100 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

foreign TV programming. While this is not an extreme growth, Latin Americans demonstrated consistent, somewhat increased interest in programming from the USA throughout ten years of analysis, which, coupled with further analysis presented in this chapter, leads us to believe that interest in USA programming will continue to be a part of Latin Americans’ media menu. And, as data indicates, the gap between domestic and U.S. foreign TV programming preference has shrunk significantly throughout this decade of analysis. In 2014, 60% of Latin Americans demonstrated interest in domestic programming, compared to 48% who showed interest in programming from the USA (see Figs. 4.1 and 4.2). However, although interest in domestic programming rose and fell slightly, remaining fairly steady, interest in programming and film from the US grew slowly but steadily from 2004 to 2014 (Fig. 4.1). In contrast, overall interest in both other Latin American and European contents was noticeable but limited.

Fig. 4.1  Programming preferences in Latin America by origin of programs, 2004–2014

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

101

Fig. 4.2  Interest in programs and films from the USA by country: 2004, 2007, 2008, and 2013

In 2007, as Fig. 4.2 shows, there is a slight peak of interest in programming from the USA, with 53% of Latin Americans in the average of all countries (at left) stating interest in U.S. programs, an increase from 50% in 2004 and decreasing again to 50% in 2008, while interest grew again slightly in the last year of our analysis, 2013. In 2007, there was also a spike in multichannel penetration in certain Latin American countries (as shown in Chaps. 3 and 5), specifically in Peru, Colombia, Brazil, and Mexico. In 2014, interest in domestic programming remained at a similar 61%, while interest in programming from the USA increased to 53%. The novelty factor of seeing cultures very different from their own, of testing out their own interest in other cultural productions, coupled with external factors such as advertising of specific programs are possible explanations for the peak and subsequent slight decline of interest in programming from the USA. That certainly seems to be the case with Brazil and Mexico. Also of interest is the sharp decline in interest in programs and films from the United States by Venezuela, likely fueled by political conflicts between the two countries, as discussed in Chap. 2, but also

102 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

potentially by a diminished perception of this foreign cultural production in terms of cultural and social capitals (Bourdieu, 1986) (Fig. 4.3). Interest in foreign programs and films from the USA is also interesting because, as a foreign, non-Latin American cultural production, it manages to have greater appeal or interest than programs and films from other Latin American countries, which goes contrary to the prediction of regional cultural proximity, as explained in the previous chapter. Although U.S.  TV productions are more distant, culturally (in terms of cultural proximity explained in Chap. 3), and should receive a much larger cultural discount (Hoskins & Mirus, 1988), they consistently receive more interest by Latin American audiences than regional TV, which shows that audiences perceive a certain value in cultural productions from U.S. programming, which is not as highly perceived in other foreign productions from Latin America or European countries. In 2004, 26% of Latin Americans said they were interested or very interested in European TV programs, while in 2014, 30% said they were interested or very interested in programs from this region. Similar to

Fig. 4.3  Interest in programs and films from Europe by country: 2004, 2007, 2008, and 2013

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

103

U.S. programming, interest in European programming showed moderate but incremental growth in the period. In 2012, we saw a second smaller spike in multichannel penetration, mainly in Brazil and Argentina, which might help explain the increase of interest in programs and films from Europe. Increased availability of foreign channels in Latin America through increased multichannel penetration has certainly allowed more audiences to be exposed to foreign televised cultural production, but it has not altered (at least not yet) the general pattern of television programming preference. Domestic programs and films are still preferred in all but one country (Peru), although there is a moderate increase in interest in programs and films from the USA and also from Europe. What then makes audiences show interest in U.S. programs, and why do they place more value on U.S. programming than European programming in Latin America?

Cultural, Economic, and Linguistic Capitals and Viewing Preferences The French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu conceptualized that the preference toward certain cultural goods, such as television programming, would be associated with and emphasized by cultural, social, and economic capitals. Bourdieu defines capital as accumulated knowledge, ability, and disposition from labor within specific fields of activity, which allows agents to gain advantage from what they have accumulated (Bourdieu, 1986). In Latin America, television has moved from the dominance of a few national broadcast channels to a larger and fragmented universe of competing pay-TV and Internet channels (Lotz, 2014; Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). The boom of multichannel TV penetration in the mid-2000 has increased the offering of foreign (and national) specialized televised cultural goods to Latin Americans and, with it, different perceptions of what could be the social and personal gains of accessing such goods. National audiences, then, seem to be increasingly fragmented by cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals in the senses defined by Bourdieu (1986).

104 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Cultural Capital Cultural capital is established with the understanding of its potential for helping an individual to navigate in the dominant culture, norms, and social language in society (Sullivan, 2001); knowing what to say, how to say it, how to understand issues, and when to express oneself to achieve some advantage. According to Bourdieu (1986), it can be acquired with educational gains but also exists in an internalized state, what an individual knows and prefers. Cultural capital is primarily learned from parents and education, but also from peers and work (Bourdieu, 1986), and now, from media themselves. Cultural capital is necessary for both the understanding and enjoyment of the culture provided by foreign television programming. In Latin America, to choose to access news and information from a prestigious international news organization such as CNN or BBC, for example, one would need to have a certain level of education to understand and enjoy the information transmitted by such organization. However, it would also be an asset to those who perceive it as a valuable cultural good, since discussing information accessed through such organizations could provide social prestige. These audiences have the necessary cultural preparation and find cultural value in accessing foreign television programming that is not found in national programming. This does not mean, however, that accessing foreign television programming excludes accessing more proximate programming. Knowing what is said both on CNN and on the national telenovela has social value as they show the individual to be knowledgeable about different things. As we will define and expand upon in Chap. 7, a cosmopolitan person, which upper-middle and elite classes increasingly try to be, is familiar with both national and global cultures, popular and elite cultures (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017). Cultural capital has been measured through different variables, such as artistic sensibilities and technical expertise (Benson, 2006) but it is often associated and operationalized with the educational achievement of the participant of the study or his/her parents, who also pass on cultural capital (Wilson, 2002; Bourdieu, 1986; Sullivan, 2001). This chapter measures cultural capital by highest academic degree achieved by the respondent, categorized as lower education (complete primary education or lower), average education (complete or incomplete secondary; commercial or preparatory), and higher education (complete or incomplete undergraduate or graduate degrees).

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

105

So the key questions are: Do Latin Americans with higher educational achievements report greater interest in foreign media? Do we see any changes in such patterns throughout our ten years of this analysis? Consistently, throughout ten years of analysis, Latin Americans with higher educational achievement, or cultural capital, show interest in programs and films from the U.S. at higher rates than do their counterparts with lower educational achievement. In all of our years analyzed, Latin Americans with higher educational achievements showed a significant positive association with interest in U.S. foreign television programming, while those with lower educational achievement showed a significant negative association with interest in this TV programming origin. In 2004, as Fig.  4.4 indicates, 54% of Latin Americans with a higher educational achievement stated they were interested or very interested in U.S. programs, while 41% of those with a lower educational achievement indicated such interest (the regional average was 48% for that year). This pattern held up in every country. Interest in U.S. TV programs and films by those with a higher educational achievement (cultural capital) increases consistently and substantially throughout our decade of analysis. In 2014, 62% of those with a higher educational achievement stated they were interested or very interested in TV programs and films from the USA. The same cannot be said about those with a lower educational achievement. There was only a moderate increase in interest in U.S. foreign TV by those of a lower

Fig. 4.4  Interest in programs and films from USA by cultural capital 2004–2014

106 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

educational achievement segment, peaking in 2010 (47%) and decreasing consistently after that to end the decade at 42%. In 2014, however, the regional average was at 53%, which shows us that the gap in interest in U.S. programming widened substantially within our decade of analysis. Educational achievement, as cultural capital, then became a strong predictor for programs and films from that foreign origin (USA). Not only do we see cultural capital continuing to impact U.S. foreign TV programming, we see it play an increased influence. Those on the dominant end of cultural capital increasingly have the cultural means to understand and enjoy U.S. foreign TV programming, and they are progressively placing a social value in this type of cultural production. Cultural capital is also a predictor of interest in European programs and films. As with the U.S. programs and films, from 2004 through 2014, Latin Americans with higher educational achievements showed a significant positive association with interest in European foreign television programming, while those with lower educational achievement showed a significant negative association with interest in this TV programming origin. However, as opposed to a widening gap by education, as seen in the changing interest for U.S.  TV programming, the gap in interest in European TV programming decreased between those with a higher and lower educational achievement during our decade of analysis. As Fig. 4.5 shows, in 2004, 36% of those with a higher education indicated interest in programs from Europe, while only 19% of those with a lower education

Fig. 4.5  Interest in programs and films from Europe by cultural capital 2004–2014

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

107

indicated such interest. In 2014, 38% of those with a higher education indicated interest in programs from Europe and 23% of those with a lower education stated the same. In the years of 2007 and 2012, when we see peaks of interest in European TV programs, are years when we also see peaks of interest from respondents with an average and lower educational achievement, while relatively stable for those with a higher educational achievement. While cultural capital is a predictor for both U.S. and European programming interest, it is increasingly stronger for U.S. programs and films, while potentially weakening in strength for European programs and films. It is possible that the cultural production from Europe is perceived as less socially valuable or more culturally distant for Latin Americans, at least in terms of cultural capital. Cultural capital alone, though, does not fully explain interest in foreign television programming.

Economic Capital Economic capital is the “money or assets that can be turned into money” (Benson, 2006, p. 189) necessary to access a particular cultural good, such as television and, specifically in the case of this chapter, foreign television programming available on subscription services. Bourdieu stated that economic capital is at the root of other types of capital (1986), often a necessary base to acquire cultural and linguistic capitals. They can, however, act independently. Latin America is a region historically marked by income inequalities, which would make economic capital a substantial necessary condition to access foreign televised programming. However, in the past couple of decades, the region has experienced substantial growth in the economy of many of its nations, most remarkably in Brazil, Chile, and Mexico, and, with that, changes in social class, marked mainly by increased growth in the size of the lower-middle class and its purchasing power. After a decade with marginal middle-class fluctuations in the 1990s, Latin America’s middle class grew exponentially, from 100 million people in 2000 to around 150 million by 2010 (Ferreira et al., 2012, xi). This is a historical growth which has allowed, among other things, a whole new segment of Latin American population to have the economic capital necessary to access multichannel television, and with that, more televised cultural goods, including much more international television. Although this new-found economic capital by a large group of individuals in Latin America did enable them to have considerable new purchasing power,

108 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

they may not have as much cultural capital or social capital as previous middle classes (Bourdieu, 1986). That has potential conflicts between old and new middle classes, because as Benson stated, “the social world is structured around the opposition between two forms of power: economic and cultural capital” (2006, p, 189). Previous studies assessing economic capital have measured it through income level and purchasing power (Wilson, 2002). This chapter uses an aggregate measure to discuss income and purchasing power in relation to SES. To control for the differing economic contexts of the eight countries covered by this study, which varies greatly from country to country and yearly in unstable economies. TGI Latina survey uses a definition of socioeconomic status that places respondents into one of four strata: Top 10%, Next 20%, Next 30%, and Bottom 40. The SES is calculated based on a score of six factors, including (1) Employment situation of head of household, (2) Business-related decision expenditures, (3) Educational achievement of head of household (two items), (4) Telephone ownership, (5) Employment of domestic help, and (6) Household goods ownership (ten items). Although this variable does account for income and purchasing power, it is not an exclusive measure of income, but it stands as a proxy for economic capital.3 Do Latin Americans with higher economic capital report greater interest in foreign media? Do we see changes in such media patterns throughout this decade of economic growth in Latin America? We see that Latin Americans with higher economic capital, the top 10% of SES, are certainly more likely to be interested in programs and films from the U.S., as Fig. 4.6 indicates. And indeed, there is a very clear relationship between economic capital and interest in programs from this origin. In 2004, 58% of Latin Americans from the top 10% segment (the dominant end of economic capital) said they were interested or very interested in programs and films from the U.S., a higher percentage than the dominant end of cultural capital. For that same year, 53% of the next 20%, 3  There is a potential problem conceptually with the inter-correlation between a measure of SES that includes education as one factor and education per se. It might have been cleaner to simply compare income as a measure of economic capital with education as a measure of cultural capital. However, within the TGI data we were analyzing, there was no standardization of income across countries or over the years. In some years, the data were given in local currencies, some of which fluctuated quickly in their dollar value. So we decided to use the composite SES estimates as our best estimate of economic capital and simply acknowledge the comparison of economic and cultural capitals is limited by the inter-correlation between the two operational measures of SES and education.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

109

Fig. 4.6  Interest in programs and films from U.S. by economic capital 2004–2014

48% of the next 30%, and 43% of the next 40% (those with the lowest SES), indicated an interest in U.S. programming, showing a clear relationship between economic capital and U.S. foreign programming interest. Considering the economic growth in the region, which will be discussed in more detail in Chap. 5, we would expect a decrease in the disparity of interest in U.S. programming by economic capital, if increased disposable income to finance pay-TV would be the main drive for accessing foreign TV programming. This is not, however, what we see. Latin Americans from the top 10% of SES showed a consistent increase in interest in programs from the U.S., from 58% of those in that SES bracket stating interest in 2004 to 66% of those in that bracket stating interest in 2014 (regional average is 53%). In 2004, 43% of Latin Americans from the bottom SES (lowest 40%) indicated an interest in U.S. programming, and in 2014, 46% of those in that bracket said the same. That is a slight increase, but much lower than the increase among the richest 10%. We do see a similar pattern with economic capital as we do with cultural capital in relation to U.S. programming interest, where we see a consistent and significant difference between higher and lower economic capitals and their preferences for U.S. television. We also see a widening gap between the opposing ends of economic capital and U.S.  TV programming interest throughout the decade. There is a similar relationship between European programming interest and economic capital, as shown in Fig.  4.7. Unlike what we see with U.S. programming interest throughout the decade, economic capital is consistently relevant as a predictor of European programming interest, but there is no widening of a gap among opposing ends of economic

110 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fig. 4.7  Interest in programs and films from Europe by economic capital 2004–2014

capital—it is consistent. For all SES brackets, there is a similar variation of interest throughout the years. This does not seem related to the growing lower-middle class or other economic changes discussed in Chap. 5. Economic capital then seems to be a strong predictor for foreign programming preference, perhaps stronger than cultural capital (in terms of education), and we have found significant relationships throughout each year of our analyses for the opposing ends of the economic capital spectrum for both U.S. and European program interest. While we see a widening gap between those at the dominant end of the economic capital and those at the bottom in interest in U.S. programs, we see a consistent distribution of interest in European TV programming throughout our decade of analysis. Consistent with our cultural capital analysis, U.S. programming, in terms of economic capital, seems to be increasing in value among the higher economic brackets of Latin America, and at a higher rate than for those in a lower economic bracket. Since we don’t see an increasing economic capital gap for interest in European programming (it remains pretty consistent throughout the decade), economic capital can be considered a consistent predictor of interest in European programming. Before we can reach any definitive conclusion, as we discuss accessing, understanding, and demonstrating interest in televised programs from other languages, there is an obvious third capital that we need to address: linguistic capital.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

111

Linguistic Capital A third capital applicable in identifying audience’s preferences of television as a cultural good is linguistic capital. According to Morrison and Lui, “linguistic capital can be defined as fluency in, and comfort with, a high-­ status, world-wide language which is used by groups who possess economic, social, cultural and political power and status in local and global society” (2000, p. 473). According to the authors, linguistic capital has a concrete exchange value in markets (Morrison & Lui, 2000). Knowledge of a high-status language, such as English in Latin America, for example, can be seen as very useful for better work opportunities, especially in a globalized society, but also as a sign of social “distinction” (Niño–Murcia, 2003). In Latin America, since colonial times, language has played a major role in identifying and reinforcing social stratification (Niño–Murcia, 2003), and currently, in addition to knowledge of “proper” national languages, English is perceived as the strongest linguistic currency. It is relevant then to speak of the importance of linguistic capital in Latin America. The “disposition about language acquired in the course of learning to speak in particular context,” or linguistic habitus (Chávez, 2014, p. 28) is a form of linguistic capital which can be used as an advantage in social and market contexts. Being part of a contextual speech community, or knowing foreign languages well enough to understand the cultural norms transmitted through it, gives individuals greater access to other cultures. A linguistic habitus acquired through learning and exposure to a foreign language, such as English for many Latin Americans, may enable comprehension, interest, and a disposition toward foreign cultural goods, such as foreign television, which can then translate into a linguistic capital. And, linguistic capital can serve as a base to cultural and economic capitals; it is “both the medium and outcome of the pursuit of enhanced life chances” (Morrison & Lui, 2000, p.  473). Within the context of this study, language can serve as both enabler of foreign television content consumption and barrier to its access. As such, linguistic capital can be understood in connection with cultural and economic capitals but can act independently as well. In terms of foreign television programming, knowing the language of televised transmission would allow audiences to understand the content in ways not possible without that, so it is in some cases a necessary condition for the understanding and enjoyment of such content. But audiences can also have a constant informal education about languages through media,

112 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

with current vocabularies and idiomatic expressions. So, while learned cultural capital helps people choose and enjoy more difficult imported content on television, watching that content also further adds to their cultural and linguistic capitals, as well as their symbolic capital, or prestige (Bourdieu, 1979). This study utilizes the linguistic habitus (a set of learned habits and dispositions, Bourdieu, 1986) of learning English, combining several different measures of where respondents have learned English into an English Learned variable. Do Latin Americans with an English linguistic habitus or capital report higher interest in foreign media? Has this changed throughout our ten-year analysis? Learning English is a strong predictor of interest in programs and films from the U.S. Linguistic capital, as with cultural and economic capitals, seems to be stronger as a predictor of interest in U.S. programs with time, as the graph shows. While the average Latin American interest in U.S. programs increased moderately throughout the decade of analysis, for those who learned English, the growth is more substantial, especially after 2011, when the gap starts to widen more substantially. In 2010, 64% of Latin Americans who learned English said they were interested in programs and films from the USA, while 53% of all Latin Americans surveyed stated the same. In 2011, 67% of Latin Americans who learned English demonstrated interest in U.S. programming while 52% of the general survey population said the same. This pattern continues until our last year, 2014, where we see an increase of interest by those who have learned English and a stable pattern by the whole Latin American population. It seems that a good part of the increase in interest in U.S. programming can be explained by examining those who have learned English. Of course, in Latin America, learning English goes along with other aspects of class status, either having or wanting increased economic, cultural, and symbolic capitals (Fig. 4.8). The linguistic habitus of having learned English is also associated with interest in European TV programs and films. Certainly, only a segment of European programs are transmitted in English, and there might be other languages, which might be more useful for the best comprehension of programs from other countries. But the proposition here is that learning a high-status language, English in this case, is associated with increased interest in foreign cultural goods, as it would have increased perceived value. And this seems to be the case. Latin Americans who have learned English are consistently more likely to express interest in programs and

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

113

Fig. 4.8  Interest in foreign programs and films by linguistic capital 2004–2014

films from Europe than the whole population for this study. In other words, linguistic capital is also a good predictor for interest in European programming. However, as opposed to interest in programs from the USA, we don’t see a spike in 2011 even though there is moderate growth. And, therefore, we don’t see a widening of a gap, but rather a stable distance between those who have learned English and the general survey population. In 2004, 26% of all Latin Americans surveyed expressed interest in programs from Europe, and 35% of those who learned English said the same. In 2014, 30% of all Latin Americans surveyed expressed interest in programs from Europe, and 40% of those who learned English said the same. Certainly, not all of the eight Latin American countries behave the same. In 2004, there was a wider gap between linguistic capital and interest in programs and films from the U.S. in Brazil and Peru, followed by Mexico and Argentina. The smallest gap, or countries where linguistic capital is a weaker predictor of interest in U.S. programming, is seen in Chile and Venezuela, as Fig. 4.9 shows. By 2007, Brazil was one of the countries with the widest gaps between those who have learned English and the general country population, while Peru had closed its gap

114 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fig. 4.9  Interest in U.S. programs and films by linguistic capital by countries 2004. (Source: TGI Latina)

somewhat. Colombia, Mexico, and Argentina seemed to have an increased gap between those who have learned English and their general population in 2007. By 2014, most of the Latin American countries, with the exception of Chile and Venezuela, have a substantial gap between those who have learned English and their general population in interest in programs and films from the USA. So, not only is linguistic capital a strong predictor of interest in foreign programs and films, but is increasingly so in Latin America and this phenomenon is widely distributed among six out of the eight Latin American countries surveyed here. The general interest in U.S. programming of those with a linguistic habitus acquired through learning English in different venues and forms is comparable to the impact on preferences from having the cultural capital associated with a graduate degree. So, in general, linguistic capital is even more related to interest in U.S.  TV programming than is general cultural capital. That fits with a number of studies over the years that have shown a strong relationship between language abilities/preferences and program preferences (Waisbord, 2004; Wildman & Siwek, 1988).

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

115

Age As many market studies have shown, age is a strong predictor for television program preference. Furthermore, since the global spread of MTV in the 1990s, scholars have hypothesized that there is a reciprocal relationship between youth interest in foreign programs and music: that they are drawn to it more than adults are, and that they are then further globalized by their exposure to it (Banks, 1997). So we anticipate that age is related to preferences for program origin, particularly in terms of Latin Americans’ interest in programs and films from the USA and from Europe. Indeed, we find that there is a significant association between age and foreign program interest in each of the years analyzed, and for both programs from USA and from Europe, with younger audiences showing a positive association with these interests and older audiences showing a negative association with these interests. So, to some degree, watching films and programs from the USA and Europe has been and continues to be largely a youth phenomenon. That fits well with ideas of younger generations being more open to foreign cultures and more ingrained in global connections (Mirrlees, 2013). In 2004, 54% of younger audiences (under 24) stated interest in U.S. programs and films, followed by 48% of a more middle age range (25–49) and 36% of the older audiences (50 plus). These distances remained pretty steady throughout the longitudinal analysis, but interest in U.S. programs slowly grew among all three age groups. By 2014, 60% of younger audiences stated interest in U.S. programs and films, followed by 53% of the middle age range and 43% of the older audiences. While age is a significant factor in interest in foreign programs, and certainly in interest in programs from the USA, cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals all seem to gain strength throughout the decade of analysis, while age does not. While in 2004, age would be just as strong as a predictor to interest in U.S. programming than the capitals, by 2014 it is a weaker predictor than the capitals. A more nuanced overall argument about the impact of age might be that while youth were typically much more interested in U.S. programming in the 2000s, other age groups have gradually become more interested, diminishing the impact of age difference. That could be an argument against the sometimes too blunt statement that youth are inherently more U.S.-focused in their media choices than older groups. But one could also postulate that the youth remains early adopters of everything

116 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

new—including the foreign programming brought by the introduction and expansion of pay-TV—and that their extraordinary interest became dissipated among the general population as it caught up to them over the years (Fig. 4.10).

Conclusion: Predicting Foreign Television Preferences Companies trying to reach Latin American TV audiences have to consider the several reasons why some audiences might prefer foreign material on television, beyond Latin America, despite the continuing pull of cultural proximity demonstrated in Chap. 3. First, the economic capital or overall SES status of more elite Latin American audiences gives them greater income to provide more access, opportunities for travel, education, language study, and so on, which enables them to both access pay-TV, where more U.S. and European television programming is to be found, and to be able to afford the travel, education, and so on that lets them enjoy and understand it. Second, and in direct connection to it, their education in specific provides cultural capital, which might enable them to better understand and enjoy programming from beyond Latin America. Third, also closely related, their linguistic capital, operationalized here as understanding of English, also enables those with fairly advanced ability, or capital, to enjoy programming from beyond Latin America. The capitals had previously been theorized by some (Straubhaar, 2003) as qualities that might enable, or even lead, audiences to choose television programming that comes farther away from their own local or national cultural experience. Other earlier work, particularly on the rise of MTV, had also hypothesized that young people, overall, might have become more globalized by their experience, acquiring a kind of generation-based capital, that might make them more inclined to want to watch television from beyond Latin America. We found some evidence of that in the early 2000s but found that the connection between youth and more globalized television tastes declined over time in ways that the capitals (economic, cultural, linguistic) did not. Another strong connection for explaining preferences for U.S. and European programming is cosmopolitanism. As operationalized in TGI questionnaires, we found that those who were deemed more cosmopolitan did in fact prefer U.S. and European programming much more than

70% 65% 60% 55% 50% 45% 40% 35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0% 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older

70% 65% 60% 55% 50% 45% 40% 35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0%

2004

24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older 24 and younger 25-49 50 and older

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

2004 2005

2005 2006

2006 2007

2007 2008

2008 2009

2009 2010

2010

2011

2011

2012

2012

2013

2013

117

Interest in programing from USA by age

2014

Interest in programing from Europe by age

2014

Fig. 4.10  Interest in U.S. programs and films by age: 2004–2014

did non-cosmopolitans. However, we did not find that cosmopolitans liked non-regional television programs more than national or regional ones. They were cultural omnivores, and they liked programs from all those places.

118 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

References Anderson, B. (1983). Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. Verso. Ang, I. (2006). Living room wars: Rethinking media audiences. London: Routledge. Antola, A., & Rogers, E.  M. (1984). Television flows in Latin America. Communication Research, 11(2), 183–202. Banks, J. (1997). MTV and the globalization of popular culture. Gazette, 59:1–5. Beltran, L. R., & Fox de Cardona, E. (1980). Comunicacion dominada: Estados Unidos en los medios de America Latina. Instituto Latinoamericano de Estudios Transnacionales: Editorial Nueva Imagen. Ben-David, J. (2017). Centers of learning: Britain, France, Germany, United States. Routledge. Benson, R. (2006). News media as a “journalistic field”: What Bourdieu adds to new institutionalism, and vice versa. Political Communication, 23(2), 187–202. Bertaux, D., & Thompson, P. (1997). Pathways to social class. Clarendon Press. Bondebjerg, I., Redvall, E., Helles, R., Lai, S., Søndergaard, H., & Astrupgaard, C. (2017). Transnational European television drama. Springer. Borelli, S. H. S., & Priolli, G. (Eds.). (2000). A deusa ferida: por que a Rede Globo nao e mais a campea absoluta de audiencia. Summus Editorial. Bourdieu, P. (1979). Symbolic power. Critique of anthropology, 4(13–14), 77–85. Bourdieu, P. (1986). The forms of capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of theory and research for the sociology of education (pp. 241–258). Greenwood Press. Boyd-Barrett, O., & Mirrlees, T. (2019). Media imperialism: Continuity and change. Rowan & Littlefield. Buonanno, M. (2008). The age of television: Experiences and theories. Intellect Books. Calmon, J. (1966). Duas invasões: O Livro Negro da Invasão Branca. Edições O Cruzeiro. Cardoso, F.  H. (1970). Dependencia e Desenvolvimento na America Latina. Zahar Editores. Cardoso, F. H. (1973). Associated dependent-development: Theoretical and practical implications. In A.  Stephan (Ed.), Authoritarian Brazil. Yale University Press. Chasteen, J. C. (2001). Born in blood and fire: A concise history of Latin America. WW Norton & Company. Chávez, C. A. (2014). Linguistic capital and the currency of Spanish in Hispanic advertising production. Journal of Communication Inquiry, 38(1), 25–43. Chilcote, R. H. (1974). Dependency: A critical synthesis of the literature. Sage. Cull, N. J. (2008). Public diplomacy: Taxonomies and histories. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 616(1), 31–54. Dagnino, E. (1973). Cultural and ideological dependence: Building a theoretical framework. In F. Bonilla & R. Girling (Eds.), Structures of dependency. Stanford University Press.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

119

Dausch, A., Félix, R. R., & Juall, S. D. (2016). The French University mission to Brazil, racial theory, and the formation of a new social science paradigm. In Cultural exchanges between Brazil and France (pp.  119–136). Purdue University Press. Dorfman, A., & Mattlelart, A. (1975). How to read Donald Duck: Imperialist ideology in the Disney comic. International General. Dos Santos, T. (1973). The crisis of development theory and problems of departure in Latin America. In H. Bernstein (Ed.), Underdevelopment and development: The Third World today. Penguin. Dos Santos, T. (1978). Imperialismo y dependencia. México. Duarte, F., Benevenuto, F., Almeida, V., & Almeida, J. (2007). Geographical characterization of YouTube: A Latin American view. Fifth Latin American Web Congress. Duarte, L. G. (2001). Due South: American television ventures into Latin America. Ph.D. thesis, Michigan State University, East Lansing, MI. Duarte, L.  G., & Straubhaar, J. (2004). Adapting U.S. transnational television channels to a complex world: From cultural imperialism to localization to hybridization. In J.  Challaby (Ed.), Transnational television worldwide. I.B. Tauris. Elasmar, M. G. (Ed.). (2002). The impact of international television: A paradigm shift. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Evans, P. (1979). Dependent development: The alliance of multinational, state and local capital in Brazil. Princeton Press. Fejes, F. (1980). The growth of multinational advertising agencies in Latin America. Journal of Communication, 30(4), 36–49. Fejes, F. (1986). Imperialism, media, and the good neighbor: New deal foreign policy and United States shortwave broadcasting to Latin America. Ablex Publishing Corporation. Ferreira, F. H., Messina, J., Rigolini, J., López-Calva, L. F., Lugo, M. A., & Vakis, R. (2012). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. The World Bank. Fox, E. (1997). Latin American broadcasting. University Luton Press. Galtung, J. (1971). A structural theory of imperialism. Journal of Peace Research, 8(2), 81–117. Gardner, M.  A. (1965). The inter American Press Association: A brief history. Journalism Quarterly, 42(4), 547–556. Gitlin, T. (1998). Under the signs of Mickey Mouse and Bruce Willis. New Perspectives Quarterly, 15, 4–7. Harvey, D. (2005). The new imperialism. Oxford University Press. Hoskins, C., & Mirus, R. (1988). Reasons for the US dominance of the international trade in television programmes. Media, Culture and Society, 10, 499–515. Ianni, O. (1979). Imperialismo y cultura de la violencia en América Latina. Siglo. Jacobsen, U. C., & Jensen, P. M. (2020). Unfolding the global travel of Danish television drama series. Drama, 9.

120 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Janus, N. (1977). Transnational advertising: The Latin American case. In G. Gerbner & M. Siefert (Eds.), World Communications (pp. 137–143). Longman. Knight, A. (2001). Democratic and Revolutionary Traditions in Latin America. Bulletin of Latin American Research, 20(2), 147–186. https://doi. org/10.1111/1470-­9856.00009 Knudson, J. W. (1973). The inter American Press Association as champion of press freedom: Reality or rhetoric? The Bolivian Experience, 1952–1973. La Pastina, A., & Straubhaar, J. (2014). Why do I feel I don’t belong to the Brazil on TV? Journal of Popular Communication, 12(2), 104–116. La Pastina, A. C. (2002). The sexual other in Brazilian television: Public and institutional reception of sexual difference. International Journal of Cultural Studies, 5(1), 83–99. Leal, O., & Oliven, R. G. (1988). Class interpretations of a Soap Opera narrative: The case of the Brazilian Novela ‘Summer Sun’. Theory, Culture and Society, 5, 81–88. Liebes, T., & Katz, E. (1990). The export of meaning. New York: Oxford University Press. Lindell, J., & Danielsson, M. (2017). Moulding cultural capital into cosmopolitan capital. De Gruyter Open. Livingstone, G. (2013). America’s backyard: The United States and Latin America from the Monroe Doctrine to the War on Terror. Zed Books Ltd. Livingstone, S. (1998). Relationships between media and audiences: Prospects for audience reception studies. In T. Liebes & J. Curran (Eds.), Media, ritual and identity: Essays in honor of Elihu Katz (pp. 237–255). Routledge. Lockhart, J., & Schwartz, S. B. (1983). Early Latin America: A history of Colonial Spanish America and Brazil. Cambridge University Press. Lopes, M., & Lemos, L. (2019). BRASIL: Streaming, tudo junto e misturado. In I. Vassallo de Lopes & G. Orozco (Eds.), Modelos de distribuição da televisão por internet: atores, tecnologias, estratégias (pp. 73–108). Sulina. Lotz, A. D. (2014). The television will be revolutionized. New York University Press. Magdoff, H. (1969). The age of imperialism; The economics of U.S. foreign policy (1st ed.). New York Monthly Review Press. Mattelart, A., & Schmucler, H. (1985). Communication and information technologies: Freedom of choice for Latin America? (D. Bruxton, trans.). Ablex. Mattos, S. (1982). The Brazilian military and television. M.A. thesis, University of Texas, Austin. Mattos, S. (2002). História da televisão brasileira: uma visão econômica, social e política. Editora Vozes. Maxwell, K. (2004). Conflicts and conspiracies: Brazil and Portugal, 1750–1808. Routledge. Mirrlees, T. (2013). Global entertainment media: Between cultural imperialism and cultural globalization. Routledge.

4  THE PERSISTENCE OF THE POPULARITY OF US TELEVISION 

121

Morrison, K., & Lui, I. (2000). Ideology, linguistic capital and the medium of instruction in Hong Kong. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 21(6), 471–486. Nes, E. F. (2016). Social classes in Brazil. The Brazil Business. https://thebrazilbusiness.com/article/social-­classes-­in-­brazil-­1453802521#:~:text=There%20 are%20several%20different%20concepts,Class%20B%3A%20above%20BRL%20 7.880 Niño–Murcia, M. (2003). “English is like the dollar”: Hard currency ideology and the status of English in Peru. World Englishes, 22(2), 121–141. Nordenstreng, K., & Varis, T. (1974). Television traffic – A one-way street. UNESCO. O’Brien, T. F. (2007). Making the Americas: The United States and Latin America from the age of revolutions to the era of globalization. UNM Press. Paquette, G. (2013). Imperial Portugal in the age of Atlantic revolutions: The Luso-­ Brazilian world, c. 1770–1850. Cambridge University Press. Paxman, A., & Fernández, C. (2013). El tigre: Emilio Azcárraga y su imperio Televisa. Mexico City: Grijalbo. Phillipson, R. (2012). Linguistic imperialism. The Encyclopedia of Applied Linguistics, 1–7. Reis, R. (1999). What prevents cable TV from taking off in Brazil? Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 43. Rubin, A. M., & Perse, E. M. (1987). Audience activity and television news gratifications. Communication Research, 14(1), 58–84. Rubin, A. M. (1994). Media uses and effects: A uses and gratifications perspective. In J. Bryant & D. Zillmann (Eds.), Media effects: Advances in theory and research (pp. 417–436). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc. Salwen, M.  B. (1991). Cultural imperialism: A media effects approach. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 29–38. Scanlon, J. (2003). Mediators in the international marketplace: US advertising in Latin America in the early twentieth century. The Business History Review, 77(3), 387–415. Schiller, H. I. (1969). Mass communication and American Empire. Beacon. Schreyögg, G., & Sydow, J. (2010). Understanding institutional and organizational path dependencies. In The hidden dynamics of path dependence (pp. 3–12). Springer. Schwoch, J. (1990). The American radio industry and its latin American activities, 1939–1990. University of Illinois Press. Severin, W. J. & Tankard, J. W. (1992). ‘Theories of persuasion’, in Communication Theories: Origins, Methods and Uses in the Mass Media, Longman, New York, pp. 147–180. Sinclair, J. (1999). Latin American television: A global view. Oxford University Press. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. Palgrave. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New patterns in global television (pp. 1–15). Oxford University Press.

122 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Straubhaar, J. (1984). The decline of American influence on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 221–240. Straubhaar, J. (1991). Beyond Media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59. Straubhaar, J. (2003). Choosing national TV: Cultural capital, language, and cultural proximity in Brazil. In M. G. Elasmar (Ed.), The impact of international television: A paradigm shift. Mahwah, NJ. Straubhaar, J., Spence, J., Higgins, V. D. M., Sinta, V., Mora, A. A., García, V. M., & Duarte, L. G. (2016). The evolution of television: An analysis of ten years of TGI Latin America (2004–2014). Program in Latin American and Latino Media Studies, University of Texas. Straubhaar, J. D. (1981). The transformation of cultural dependency: The decline of American influence on the Brazilian television industry. Ph.D. thesis, Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University. Straubhaar, J.  D. (1988). A comparison of cable TV systems. In T.  Baldwin & S. McEvoy (Eds.), Cable communication. Prentice Hall. Straubhaar, J. D. (1990). The effects of cable TV in the Dominican Republic. In S.  Surlin & W.  Soderlund (Eds.), Mass media and the Caribbean (Vol. 6, pp. 273–286). Gordon and Breach. Straubhaar, J. D. (2007). World television: From global to local. Newbury Park, CA: SAGE publications. Straubhaar, J. D., Castro, D., Duarte, L. G., & Spence, J. (2019). Class, pay TV access and Netflix in Latin America: Transformation within a digital divide. Critical Studies in Television, 14(2), 233–254. https://doi.org/10.1177/ 1749602019837793 Sullivan, A. (2001). Cultural capital and educational attainment. Sociology, 35(4), 893–912. Türken, S., & Rudmin, F. W. (2013). On psychological effects of globalization: Development of a scale of global identity. Psychology & Society, 5(2), 63–89. Vilela, M. (2019). Series culture and fandom in Game of Thrones: Check-in as an identity marker in Brazil and Portugal. International Journal of Film and Media Arts, 4(1), 56–65. http://recil.grupolusofona.pt/jspui/bitstream/10437/9973/1/Series%20culture.pdf Waisbord, S. (2004). McTV: Understanding the global popularity of television formats. Television & New Media, 5(4), 359–383. Waisbord, S.  R. (1996). Investigative journalism and political accountability in South American democracies. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 13(4), 343–363. Wallach, J. (2011). Meu capítulo na TV Globo. Editora Topbooks. Wells, A. (1972). Picture Tube Imperialism? Orbis Books. Wildman, S. S., & Siwek, S. E. (1988). International trade in films and television programs. Ballinger Publishing Company. Wilson, T.  C. (2002). The paradox of social class and sports involvement: The roles of cultural and economic capital. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 37(1), 5–16.

CHAPTER 5

Changing Class Formations and Changing Television Viewing: The New Middle Class, Television and Pay Television in Eight Latin American Countries 2004–2020

This chapter explores how rapidly changing social class structures in Latin America in the last couple of decades have impacted television viewing. As pointed in a recent journal article by Castro, Duarte, & Straubhaar (2019, p. 120): Latin America has historically presented one of the most volatile economies in the world. Between 1970 and 1998, the region underwent an economic crisis every two years leading Latin Americans to get used to understanding “crises as a routine” (Becerra & Mastrini, 2010). However, between 2004 and 2013 the region experienced unprecedented growth that benefited people from the lower socioeconomic strata significantly more than in previous periods. From 2005 to 2012, public spending on social policies increased at double the rate of economic growth in the region and the percent of people living in poverty dropped from 34 to 21 percent. As a result, onethird of Latin Americans joined the middle class (in 1990, that figure was 17 percent) and, for the first time, this middle class outnumbered those living in poverty.

The economic bonanza allowed for more people to join in the consumption of paid media entertainment, as demonstrated by the significant

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_5

123

124 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

growth of pay-TV subscribers in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Mexico, Peru, and Venezuela in the 2000s and 2010s. The economic crisis of 2014  in Brazil and similar crises in other countries have since reduced the number of people who were able to keep paying for pay­TV, but research has shown that people try to hang on to pay-TV even when the economy declines and it becomes harder for them to pay for it (Castro-Mariño et al., 2019). This is significant because cable television growth in some parts of Latin America, especially Brazil, had trailed behind many countries of the world (Reis, 1999), where cable and satellite television grew explosively in the 1990s (Balio, 1998). Beyond the business and political barriers to entry in Brazil (Duarte, 1996), it had been theorized as being due to the fact that Latin America was already covered by well-resourced commercial television stations, which provided a great deal of entertainment that was closely tuned to national interests, gaining significant advantage from cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991). Along the same theoretical framework, can we say that more Latin Americans are turning to pay-TV largely because of increased affluence that permits them to afford it? Is it more due to increased education that gives them the cultural capital that might lead them to be more interested in the largely imported programming it brings in? Another explanation is that pay-TV is an icon of social status that is coveted regardless of one’s ability to pay or appreciate it, which is what was discovered in an early study of the Dominican Republic (Straubhaar & Viscasillas, 1990). This chapter uses TGI’s 2004–2014 market data to conduct a deeper investigation of social stratification and media use in major Latin American metropolitan areas. By adopting data from a syndicated survey, this analysis relies on existing tools used in the TV business to examine the role of class in multichannel TV adoption. Several other sources will be used to update trends from 2015 to 2020.

Social Class and Television in Latin America Social class has long been considered crucial to what happens with television viewing in Latin America. For a long time, it seemed that most people in the majority of Latin American countries, regardless of social class, were happy to tune in to one or two dominant broadcast television networks that monopolized viewing across social classes from the 1960s through the 1980s (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). In a couple of countries, Argentina and Colombia, cable and satellite TV use was notably higher

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 125

due to government controls over broadcasting (see Chap. 2). It was only in the 1990s that this trend began to change. In Brazil, for example, although TV Globo continued to dominate ratings, often still getting audience shares above 50%, SBT and TV Record began to make inroads in the audience by targeting the lower-middle class and working class, whose tastes had not been fulfilled by TV Globo (Borelli & Priolli, 2000). Both these networks showed that there was potential for segmented television in this Latin American country, particularly if the segmentation of the audience was focused on social class. In Mexico, both commercial broadcasters with national coverage–Televisa and Televisión Azteca–have largely stuck to the “populist”1 entertainment formula perfected by the former during its years as the sole television company in the country. The entry of TV Azteca in 1993, however, brought with it some limited attempts at differentiated targeting. During its first decade, Azteca based its domestic fiction offering on telenovelas produced by the production company Argos with very different plots, such as portrayals of political corruption, antihero protagonists, and comparatively liberal portrayals of gender relations (Pérez, 2005). Some evidence suggests that these features are more appealing to more educated viewers (Pérez, 2005), which in Mexico cluster in the upper socioeconomic strata. As of 2014, Argos productions were presented in Cadenatres, a Mexico city-based broadcast television channel that targeted middle and upper-­middle-­class audiences (Lopes & Gómez, 2015).2 On the other end of the spectrum, Colombia and Argentina had different broadcast industries that prompted audiences to seek pay-TV alternatives earlier. During the strong economic growth of the 2001–2011 period, the size of the middle and upper-middle classes almost doubled, as can be seen in the following table from Pew, based on World Bank data. Colombia was slow to allow the development of nationwide commercial television networks in the 1990s, which probably encouraged audiences to acquire pay-TV to get more diversity and more entertainment programming, in particular (Table 5.1). Argentina presented a somewhat similar situation, as cable TV had a heavy penetration into the mass audience ever since the 1970s, due to 1  A famous quote attributed to Emilio Azcárraga Milmo, CEO of Televisa from 1973 until his death in 1997, was that the company made television for the “popular” and “modest” middle class (trans. “clase media popular”), which he contrasted to the “exquisite” class (“la clase exquisita”) (Paxman & Fernández, 2013). 2  Cadenatres was shut down on October 26, 2015, to allow Grupo Imagen, the communications subsidiary of GEA, to focus on building the Imagen Televisión national network, which launched on October 17, 2016.

20.9 16 3.5 23.8 29.1 12.5 20.5 9.8

56.5 52.2 51.2 58.6 58.9 63.3 59 60.9

Low 15 17.5 25.3 11.2 7.7 16.9 14 20.2

6.6 10.6 14.6 5 3.3 6.2 5.3 8

1 3.7 5.4 1.5 1 1.2 1.2 1.1

40.7 196.9 17.3 47.1 15.2 119.4 29.6 29.5

2.7 7.3 1.6 10.4 7.4 3.1 8.1 5.9

Middle Upper Middle High Pop (Millions) Poor

2011

3.7 43.6 33.4 54.9 60.1 59.1 54.5 49.4

Low

32.5 27.8 33.8 20.7 21.1 25.7 24.8 29.5

23.5 15.9 23 10.8 9.6 10.2 10.7 13.4

4.3 5.4 8.2 3.2 1.8 1.9 1.8 1.9

Middle Upper Middle High

Note: The poor live on $2 or less daily, low income on $2.01–10, middle income on $10.01–20, upper-middle on $20.01–50, and high income on more than $50; figures expressed in 2011 purchasing power parities in 2011 prices. * indicates that the share is less than 0.05%. Population estimates are midyear figures. Source: Pew Research Center (2014)

Argentina 37.3 Brazil 177 Chile 15.6 Colombia 40.6 Ecuador 12.8 Mexico 105.3 Peru 26.4 Venezuela 24.9

Pop (Millions) Poor

2001

Table 5.1  Pew income distribution 2001 vs. 2011

126  J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 127

interference in broadcast television and network development by Peronist and military governments that took over broadcast stations, managed them badly, and set the stage for cable to emerge as a strong alternative for local television production. The economic boom of the turn of the twentieth century also helped move many Argentines into the middle and upper-middle classes, which helps explain why Argentina and Colombia remained the countries with the greatest pay-TV penetration.

Elite Desires for Diversity on TV There is some evidence that audiences from higher income levels and/or with greater levels of educational achievement do not feel identified with TV aimed at a general market. At least in Mexico, individuals with lower socioeconomic status evaluate over-the-air television channels more favorably than those from higher SES, and Brazilian ratings find the same pattern (Straubhaar, 2007). Similarly, qualitative findings from a study of college students in Colombia found that some of them perceived broadcast television contents—reality shows, telenovelas, gossip programs— were aimed at people of lower SES (Arango-Forero & González-Bernal, 2009). Initially, the elites resorted to public broadcasting to find more upscale television content. Public broadcasting has historically leaned toward educational and “highbrow” cultural programming for its entertainment offerings, with a deliberate exclusion of popular television shows, often carried by the dominant commercial networks (Fuenzalida, 2001). However, the reach of public TV in most countries—with the exception of Chile—has historically been very limited in comparison with that of private broadcasters, and the educational functions have in some degree been co-opted by specialized cable networks, such as the Discovery Channel and its subsidiaries, as well as the international channels from European state-run media. As in much of the rest of the world, global television networks and operators in Latin America took advantage of satellite delivery technology, both through direct-to-home and through cable TV systems, to deliver new options to these elite audiences. Upon its introduction in the late twentieth century, subscription-based television in Latin America was for the most part an expensive and limited service. Initially, its main purpose was utilitarian: in Mexico, the first cable operations brought Englishlanguage programming to Americans living just south of the border (Crovi, 1996). In Brazil, the first pay-TV service, Editora Abril’s TVA,

128 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

targeted a similar population of immigrants from Italy, Germany, and elsewhere by including foreign channels in their original languages. In the large countries, such as Brazil and Argentina, some of the first paid TV services simply carried programming from major production centers to remote areas, where broadcasting was made difficult by the countries’ topography or the communications policies (Possebon, 2009; Becerra & Mastrini, 2014). Due to the nature of cable television pricing—with single companies taking over local markets—and the generally unstable economic performance of most Latin American countries, the cost of cable TV packages was for the most part out of the reach of a big portion of Latin American households, with only those in the top socioeconomic tiers being customers of the service. This largely prevented the development of a true multichannel television industry until around the mid-1990s (Duarte, 2001), when a confluence of economic, technological and policy variables triggered a boom in pay-TV demand, and in turn, of foreign investment in the nascent field. In more recent years, the expansion of multichannel TV demand attracted the attention of domestic and foreign media companies, increasing the competitiveness of the field. In the largest markets, emerging regional players such as América Móvil and the Spanish telecom Telefónica have challenged the broadcasting giants—Globo, Televisa, and Grupo Clarín—buying cable and other telecommunications providers, or by establishing alliances with new foreign entrants, like Dish. At least in Mexico, the increased competition has led to the launch of budget-priced basic packages (Gómez & Sosa, 2010).

Beyond the Elite Audience on Pay-TV There was a tipping point in several countries where the content of pay­TV became more accessible in many ways to audiences beyond the elites. First, once the infrastructure was built and expanded, operators could deliver cheaper versions of their services. Second, networks invested in subtitling and especially dubbing more content, making it accessible to those without foreign language skills (Duarte, 1996). Third, more localized productions started to take over the schedule as several of the major domestic media companies began to create their own pay-TV channels, recognizing that increasingly mass audiences were now demanding national programming on pay-TV, which these companies were well

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 129

positioned to supply. Some countries also began to require international pay-­TV channels to carry a minimum of nationally produced programming, further boosting the domestic producers. In 2011, the Brazilian government passed the SeAC Law (Law no. 12,485/2011), regulating paid television (including cable, DTH, MMDS, etc). The SeAC Law imposed quotas for Brazilian content to TV programmers and increased the amount of the Contribution for the Development of the Film Industry (CONDECINE) tax, artificially growing the demand for Brazilian films and TV programs. More than $600  million Brazilian reais were made available to independent producers in 2012. In theoretical terms, pay-TV began to serve an audience demand and, in some cases, policy requirements for cultural proximity. This moved pay-TV beyond just supplying the kinds of drama, comedy, news, movies, music, and documentaries from the US, and other Anglophone countries, Europe, and East Asia that appealed mostly to the cultural elites. TV Globo expanded into pay-TV early, in 1991 with Globosat, a C-band satellite pay-TV service with its own set of channels. It expanded gradually with four channels in 1996, devoted to movies, news, shows, and sports. The bungled start with the antiquated C-band technology did not keep Globo from eventually controlling the market, investing heavily to build the largest multichannel cable operator in the country—NET Brasil—and hedging its bet by joining the direct-broadcast satellite (DBS) consortium SKY Latin America, backed by Murdoch’s News Corp., Televisa (Mexico), and Liberty Media (US pay-TV group) to offer both national and international channels to Latin America via direct-to-home satellite service under the SKY Brasil banner (Duarte, 2001). Despite having pioneered pay-TV in Brazil and built a cable operation initially larger than Globo’s, the competing local media conglomerate Editora Abril that brought well-known cable networks like MTV and ESPN to Brazil eventually succumbed to the competition and withdrew from electronic media altogether. In Mexico, Televisa started an early dominant operation in cable TV, consolidating it by acquiring or allying with other regional operators. It also started SKY México (Straubhaar et al., 2016). In the last ten years, Televisa has consolidated its control of the Mexican pay-TV field by acquiring several of the largest regional cable companies and establishing informal alliances with the largest remaining independent cable operator Megacable (Harrison, 2013). At the same time, the company continues to be the main owner of SKY México, which

130 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

operated as the only DTH TV service in the country for four years after Murdoch acquired DIRECTV in 2004 (Gómez & Sosa, 2010).3

The Growth of the Middle Class in Latin America The growth of the middle classes in Latin America at the turn of the century garnered considerable global attention. A World Bank report indicated in 2013 that members of what it considered middle classes outnumbered the poor for the first time in Latin America and the Caribbean (Ferreira et  al., 2012). Economic mobility in the region improved greatly as formerly impoverished members of society increasingly found stable income in the formal employment sector. Defining precisely who belongs to the middle class can be a complicated prospect, particularly in a context of accelerated change. The World Bank defined middle classes in Latin America as persons with a per-capita daily income of $10–$50 purchasing power parity, which López-Calva and Ortiz-Juarez (2014) estimated enough to stabilize households to keep them from slipping into poverty. After a decade with marginal middle-­ class fluctuations in the 1990s, Latin America’s middle class grew substantially, from 100 million people in 2000 to around 150 million by 2010 (Ferreira et al., 2012, p. xi). Among individual Latin American countries, the middle classes in Argentina, Chile, and Peru saw a substantial increase of more than 10 percentage points in that time frame, although the nature of the increase might differ. The biggest increase was seen in Brazil, whose middle-class growth accounted for more than 40% of the increase in Latin America (Ferreira et  al., 2012, p.  139). Other countries in the region, such as Uruguay, actually saw a decrease in that timeframe. Between 1995 and 2012, extreme poverty in Latin America was cut in half (Ferreira et al., 2012, p. 19). Also, according to the World Bank, real incomes grew more than 25% between 2001 and 2011 with GDP growing steadily in those years, with a minor dip in 2009 and regaining its strength in the following years.

3  In 2008, a joint venture of the American companies Dish and Echostar with the Mexican Grupo MVS launched Dish Mexico, which broke Sky’s monopoly over the direct-to-home market in Mexico. The service, which targeted lower-income consumers with budget-priced basic packages, reached more than half a million subscribers by mid-2009 and triggered a reduction of prices on the part of the Televisa-owned CATV operators.

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 131

One problem with generalizing about the region as a whole is that economic growth per country and the impact that has on social classes within countries have been very uneven. If we look at the development of classes across countries from 2004 to 2014, the share of different countries in upper versus lower classes is very different. Since each country maintains prosaic politically influenced definitions of social class, the multinational research company Kantar has developed its own definitions for its TGI Latina syndicated service. It defines the top 10% (elite) in SES terms versus the next 20% (upper-middle class), the next 30% (lower-middle class), and the lowest 40% (working class, working poor, and poor) (Wicken, 2006). For example, in Fig. 5.1, we can see how much of the upper-middle class (next 20% after the top 10% or elite) in the whole sample is located in each country. One line shows the average (20%) across all eight countries. Comparing each country to that line shows how much the country is higher or lower than the regional average. The regional upper-middle class is more highly concentrated in Chile and Brazil than in Peru and Venezuela. We need to remember, however, that the TGI sample does NOT represent

Fig. 5.1  Percentage-specific countries have of the total members of the upper-­ middle class (next 20%) in the eight country sample

132 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

all people in those nations, but major metropolitan areas that hold most of the population, but also over-represent those who are most affluent and best educated. The rising economic status of the new lower-middle class enabled them to have considerable new purchasing power, but they lacked in education, cultural capital, or social capital in comparison to long-standing middle classes (Bourdieu, 1986). As shown in Fig. 5.2 below, education levels are significantly higher among the elite and upper-middle class than among the lower-middle class. This trend held true even though education levels and, to a large degree, incomes, among the working poor, working class, and new middle class were rising, thanks to programs like the Brazilian Bolsa Escolar (school scholarship), the Mexican Progresa/Oportunidades (progress/opportunities), as well as a similar, highly effective program in Chile, which paid poor parents to keep their children in school rather than having them work to help support their families (Soares et al., 2007). Along with the economic downturn, educational programs have also been slashed in the 70.0%

60.0%

50.0%

40.0%

30.0%

20.0%

10.0%

0.0%

2004

2005

2006

2007 Top 10%

2008

2009

Next 20%

2010 Next 30%

2011

2012

2013

Next 40%

Fig. 5.2  Higher education for different social levels in Latin America

2014

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 133

last few years. The Brazilian program, for instance, has been considerably scaled back under the Bolsonaro government, from 2018 on (Eiró, 2019).

The Role of the Lower-Middle Class Much of the discussion regarding current developments in both television and digital media in Latin America revolves around the emergence of the new lower-middle class though, which had been estimated at over 40 million people in Brazil (Zizola, 2014), and about 22.5 million in Mexico4 (Fig. 5.3). However, any forecasts based on the consumption patterns of the group defined as middle-income should be taken with caution. As the World Bank correctly predicted, the poorest, least educated, and least well connected of the new lower-middle class had a somewhat tenuous grip on

Fig. 5.3  Percentage-specific countries have of the total members of the lower-­ middle class (next 30%) in the country sample 4  This number is based on the 20% estimation proposed by the Mexican Secretariat of Economy in the text of the National Program for the Protection of Consumer Rights (Diario Oficial de la Federación 2014).

134 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Table 5.2  Latin America GDP declines in the second half of last decade (annual variation in %) Country

2015

2016

2017

2018

2019

Argentina Brazil Chile Colombia Mexico

2.7 −3.5 2.3 3.0 3.3

−2.1 −3.3 1.7 2.1 2.6

2.7 1.3 1.2 1.4 2.1

−2.5 1.3 3.9 2.5 2.2

−2.2 1.1 1.1 3.3 −0.3

Source: FocusEconomics (2020). Economic Growth (GDP, annual variation in %). Retrieved October 18, 2020, from https://www.focus-­economics.com/economic-­indicator/gdp

their middle-class status, and many slipped back into poverty more easily than better-established parts of the middle class during the recessions that faced several countries after 2014. The stagnant or decreasing GDP of the last five years (see Table 5.2) has indeed abbreviated a considerable part of the social mobility gains of the previous decade in several countries and, with it, the levels of consumption of many items, including media, such as Pay-TV. This has happened more acutely in Brazil and some other countries. In Brazil, pay-TV declined about 3% per year since its high point in 2014, due to “the competition from OTT services and the current decline in the purchasing power of the population” (de Lopes & Lemos, 2019).

Breaking Down Class with Bourdieu’s Capitals to Predict Multichannel Growth Bourdieu’s account of class using the concepts of disposition, habitus, and multiple forms of capital, including cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1984; Bourdieu et al., 1977; Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992; Calhoun et al., 1993) may provide greater insight into the varying degrees of adoption of multichannel television for information and entertainment among each social segment of Latin American society. Greater spending power, or economic capital (Bourdieu, 1984) does permit greater numbers to afford television sets, better sets, access to pay-TV services, or increasingly, access to streaming TV. But greater spending power may also lead to more positive disposition toward consumption of entertainment and information value of television, as well as the symbolic capital that television ownership provides. According to Bourdieu (1986), symbolic capital results from the

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 135

possession of desirable goods, acquired characteristics (like education) or qualities that are considered desirable or positive by society, that give increased status. The possession of a television, or cable television (or now streaming TV, as we will note in Chap. 6), is a status marker in these societies, signaling class mobility for newly stable households. Cultural capital is directly linked to education. Cultural capital can be learned from parents, from peers, from work, but tends to be heavily linked to things learned in formal or informal education (Bourdieu, 1984). Because of the role that education plays in producing and reproducing class status and tastes, this chapter will also investigate the potential role of education in enticing people to subscribe to multichannel TV services. Previous surveys and in-depth interviewing show that higher levels of education tend to give people more understanding of foreign cultures and languages, which tends to let them appreciate more the elements of foreign cultures (see Chap. 4 for more detail). Straubhaar’s (1991) study of Brazil and the Dominican Republic included two surveys that showed that upper-class people, particularly as defined by education rather than just income, were more likely to prefer foreign television programs than were people of the middle, lower-middle, and working classes. Subsequent in-depth interviewing suggested that the critical formative elements of cultural capital that might lead viewers to prefer foreign programs or channels are included not only in education, per se; but also learning another language, particularly English; travel and study abroad; and working with people from other countries (Straubhaar, 2007). For this analysis, we will use education, a variable strongly related to all these things, as a good indicator of cultural capital. We shall thus review the impact of education on national versus international viewing preferences and, by consequence, on the related decision to pay for multichannel television, which in Latin America, has been largely dominated by imported channels. Based on the previous review of the theory, we would expect to find that use of multichannel or pay-TV began to grow more rapidly in the late 2000s or early 2010s as incomes grew in Latin America. This is because incomes grew more rapidly starting in the late 2000s and a certain level of disposable income or economic capital is required to let people in developing countries consider the extra cost of pay-TV. This chapter will assess if indeed income is related to multichannel penetration in Latin America. However, we expect to find that the growth in usage of multichannel pay-TV in Latin America is even more closely connected to education than

136 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

to income. This is because cultural capital is even more important to a preference for multichannel than is economic capital, per se, as cultural capital is linked to the preference for more outside or imported culture via television. Thus, this chapter will also assess the relationship between education and multichannel penetration in Latin America. If we break down the association between income and education to pay-TV adoption to see what reasons people give for such an expenditure, then we would expect to see some reasons more associated with income and others more associated with education. For example, we might expect income to be more associated with wanting “to be up to date with the latest technology,” since having the economic wherewithal to pay for new technology is a clearer requirement than higher education. Likewise, we would expect “to have better reception” to be more associated with lower-­ income respondents, especially among the poorest, since broadcast reception on the peripheries of large metropolitan areas—where the poor lives—has been spotty, previously leading some to get large, old-fashioned C-band satellite antennas simply to get signals for national networks (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). In other words, these pay-TV buyers are still focused on national programming and simply using the service to gain better quality signals. More central to our concerns about cultural capital and economic capital, we would expect education to be somewhat more associated than income with both the desire “to have more television channels” and “to receive entertainment and information from other places.” Theoretically, in terms of cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1984) and cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991, 2007), education (representing cultural capital) should be more associated with a preference for more non-broadcast channels, especially more foreign channels, than income.

Methodology For the purposes of this analysis, three variables were adapted from the TGI Latina data set, as previously procured from Kantar Media.5

5  Kantar Media was a partner in the publication of a 2015 compendium report entitled “The Evolution of Television: An Analysis of 10 years of TGI Latin America” (Straubhaar et al., 2015). Much of the TGI Latina data set referenced in this book was originally configured for that publication.

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 137

Multichannel penetration. Respondents were asked whether they had access to cable, satellite, and/or microwave (MMDS) television services. For this study, usage of any of the three services was counted for an estimate of Multichannel TV penetration. Income/Socioeconomic status. As noted before, the TGI Latina survey has established a comparable regional definition of socioeconomic status that places respondents into one of four strata: Top 10%, Next 20%, Next 30%, and Bottom 40%. The approach aims to overcome national idiosyncrasies by assigning respondents a score based on six factors, including (1) Employment situation of head of household, (2) Business-related decision expenditures, (3) Educational achievement of the head of household (two items), (4) Telephone ownership, (5) Employment of domestic help, and (6) Household goods ownership (ten items) (Wicken, 2006).While this composite measure does not allow for the identification of precise cutoff points for lower-middle and middle classes in Latin America, for the purposes of this analysis the two lowest SES groups—the Next 30% and Bottom 40%—will be used as proxies for the lower, lower-middle, and middle-income groups, representing 70% of the population. Education. Respondents were classified in one of five categories of educational achievement depending on the last level of education reached or currently being pursued: Primary (equivalent to elementary); Secondary (equivalent to U.S. middle school, 7–9th years); Tertiary (equivalent to high school, as well as commercial/technical training); University; and Postgraduate.

Findings: Income and Multichannel Penetration We analyzed whether the pay-TV penetration rates in the eight Latin American countries studied accelerated their growth in the second half of the period spanning 2004 through 2014, a decade identified by economists as an era of expansion for the middle and lower-middle socioeconomic strata in Latin America. According to time series data for all countries, that appears to be the case, although the intensity of this expansion was more acute in certain countries. Overall, it is clear that the number of broadcast-television only homes, without multichannel or non-pay-TV penetration, in the eight countries studied went strongly and quickly down, from over 70% of homes without multichannel, to just over 50%. Conversely, use of both satellite and cable-based multichannel television went up, as is clear in Fig. 5.4. After slow growth in the 1990s and

138 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

Mulchannel Penetraon: Recepon = Cable Mulchannel Penetraon: Recepon = Satellite/Parabolic/Digital Mulchannel Penetraon: Non-mulchannel HH (no addional TV recepon) Internet Used in the last 3 months

Fig. 5.4  Multichannel penetration in Latin America 2004–2014

early 2000s, multichannel television began to cover a near majority of homes in these major metropolitan areas, while the number of broadcast-­ only homes declined. This impressive expansion has only been surpassed by the growth of Internet adoption, which as we will see in Chap. 6, now represents a significant competitive threat to broadcast and satellite/cable television, as it does in the US and elsewhere. Since TGI Latina does not include smaller towns and rural areas, our analysis does not intend to be truly national, but rather an analysis of major metropolitan areas, although it is reasonable to expect that pay-TV penetration will be considerably lower in these lower-income and rural markets. The increased pay-TV penetration did not take place at the same pace and relative size across the region, as shown in Fig. 5.5. Among the studied countries, Colombia attained the highest multichannel penetration rates at the end of the analyzed period: Argentina, Peru, and Chile followed, finishing with a clear majority of respondents having pay-TV. At the other end of the spectrum, Venezuela was the only country that saw a

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 139 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007 Colombia

Venezuela

2011 Chile

Peru

2014 Mexico

Brazil

Ecuador

Fig. 5.5  Multichannel penetration by Latin American countries 2004–2014

decline in multichannel penetration in the last two time points, although taking the whole ten-year period, it still saw an increase. In the assessment of the relationship between income and multichannel penetration through the four benchmark years (2004, 2007, 2011, and 2014), the eight countries showed an initially varied pattern of growth in multichannel penetration in 2004–2007. As shown in Fig. 5.6, the two lower income groups, which include both the “new” lower-middle (or vulnerable) class, the next 30%, and those under the poverty line, show the strongest growth throughout the period, which tends to confirm the overall expectation of this study. It is also clear that growth in pay-TV subscriptions in the two poorest groups picked up overall in 2011–2014, when incomes grew the most in the majority of the countries. Overall, the average across all eight countries showed slight growth in the poorest 40% and the next poorest 30% (the lower-middle class) between 2004 and 2007. However, in the second period, between 2011 and 2014, multichannel penetration grew considerably among the lower-­ middle class.

140 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004

2007 Top 10%

Next 20%

2011 Next 30%

2014 Next 40%

Fig. 5.6  Multichannel penetration by income level: Combined Latin America

Figures 5.6 and 5.7 show multichannel penetration within the lower-­ middle class (next 30%) and bottom 40% (the working class, working poor, and poor) per country, across the four-time periods initially analyzed in the original study of TGI trends (Straubhaar et  al., 2015). In some countries, such as Peru, Colombia, and Chile, multichannel television penetration grew noticeably in those two income groups. In some countries, such as Brazil, Ecuador, and Mexico, there was a high increase of multichannel among the “next 30%” income group, but still a considerable increase among the bottom 40% income group. In Brazil in particular, between 2011 and 2014, the rate of pay-TV usage among groups representing the two lowest-income groups more than doubled. By 2014, in both Brazil and Mexico, the SES group referred to as the “next 30%”— those less affluent than the two top strata, but who still have a stronger purchasing power than the poorest 40% of the population—were approaching a pay-TV penetration rate of 50%. In some countries, like Argentina, Chile, and Colombia, there was either stagnation or even a slight decrease between the lowest two SES

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 141 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007 Brazil

Chile

2011 Colombia

Ecuador

2014 Mexico

Peru

Fig. 5.7  Multichannel penetration Next 30% (income level) by country

groups from 2004 to 2007—followed by a progressively accelerating growth in the latter part of the study period (Fig. 5.8). Both Argentina and Colombia started from a much higher base of subscribers to pay-TV in 2004 than in the other six countries. This is due to some of the particularities of pay-TV development in those two countries. In Argentina, control of broadcast television by Peron and the military had shattered the existing stations in the 1970s (Fox, 1997), weakening them even after the end of military rule, and opening a door to cable precisely when the technology was spreading. In Colombia, although there were two fairly strong national commercial channels, the audience seems to have fragmented earlier than in most other Latin American countries, particularly among youth, drawn by the greater diversity and perceived quality of pay-TV channels (Arango-Forero, 2013). Peru started from a very high level of penetration among the richest (84% in 2004) and a somewhat higher level among the poorest (14% in that same year), but growth among the latter was still lower than in Argentina or Colombia, perhaps due to lower levels of income among the poorest in Peru at the

142 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007 Brazil

Chile

Colombia

2011 Ecuador

2014 Mexico

Peru

Venezuela

Fig. 5.8  Multichannel penetration Bottom 40% (income level) by country

beginning of the studied period. Among the richest, the pay-TV penetration remained rather consistent, growing, and stumbling at low rates across all countries (Fig. 5.9).

Findings: Education and Multichannel Penetration Income certainly plays a role in multichannel penetration but, as we have previously stated, we believe that education plays a crucial one as well. Here we analyze trends in multichannel adoption according to respondents’ education achievement. The trends presented in Fig. 5.10 are similar to those observed in the analysis based on income: slow growth or a slight decrease in the first two time points, followed by a faster penetration growth in 2011 and 2014. The accelerated adoption of pay-TV among respondents with a lower education achievement is particularly pronounced. In general, respondents who have achieved a tertiary/higher education and those who have

100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007 Brazil

Chile

Colombia

2011 Ecuador

2014 Mexico

Peru

Venezuela

Fig. 5.9  Multichannel penetration Top 10% (income level) by country 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004

2007 Graduate

College

2011 Terary

Secondary

2014 Primary

Fig. 5.10  Multichannel penetration by education achievement: Combined Latin America

144 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007 Brazil

Chile

Colombia

2011 Ecuador

2014 Mexico

Peru

Venezuela

Fig. 5.11  Multichannel penetration by education achievement (TERTIARY ONLY) by country

achieved a secondary education showed the most growth from 2004 to 2014, closely followed by those achieving primary degree or lower. Figures 5.11 and 5.12 present multichannel distribution by countries for those with a tertiary and those with a secondary education. This analysis confirms the importance of education and, therefore cultural capital, for multichannel penetration in Latin America. Although we saw an increase in multichannel TV use related to income, the increases related to educational achievement are larger (see Table 5.3). Also, the overall gains in multichannel penetration among the education achievement group were, in general, higher in comparison to the income groups. Therefore, this study confirms the assumption that cultural capital was more important to a preference for multichannel TV than economic capital.

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 145 100% 90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

2004 Argenna

2007

Brazil

Chile

2011

Colombia

Ecuador

2014 Mexico

Peru

Venezuela

Fig. 5.12  Multichannel penetration by education achievement (SECONDARY ONLY) by country Table 5.3  Comparison of SES and education on pay-TV penetration rate increases

SES Top 10% Next 20% Next 30% Next 40% Education Graduate College Tertiary Secondary Primary

2004

2007

Diff.

2011

Diff.

2014

Diff.

65% 43% 27% 16%

64% 44% 29% 18%

−2% 2% 7% 13%

72% 55% 39% 24%

13% 25% 34% 33%

82% 69% 57% 36%

14% 25% 46% 50%

61% 52% 36% 31% 16%

59% 53% 41% 31% 14%

−3% 2% 14% 0% −13%

68% 59% 47% 39% 22%

15% 11% 15% 26% 57%

81% 71% 59% 54% 38%

19% 20% 26% 38% 73%

146 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Education, Income, and Reasons for Getting Multichannel Television There are a number of reasons why a person or household might decide to pay for multichannel television, even though its costs, historically, have been fairly high. These reasons, when compared and broken down by income/purchasing power and education, can help us understand the differences in impact between economic and cultural capital in this fundamental decision, which gives people access to many channels produced beyond their nations or even the region of Latin America. The top reason for paying for multichannel TV from 2004 to 2014, as identified in the TGI survey, was “to have more television channels.” Those channels could be either national or foreign, news or entertainment, and so on. A parallel study to this, doing a deep dive into the TGI data on Brazil, finds that some better-educated groups in some regions of Brazil, who seemed to be looking for more diversity on television, had a greater interest in foreign channels in the mid-2000s, when the primary diversity on multichannel television came from abroad, the region, the U.S., or Europe. Interest in imported material among some of these best-­ educated Brazilians declined after the period 2008–2010. As noted above, one possible reason is that TV Globo was developing more and more of its own channels for pay-TV as the 2000s turned into the 2010s. Overall, this explanation for multichannel adoption increased across the board through the studied period, but the growth was most pronounced for the respondents in the top-income bracket; by 2014, a majority said this was the main reason behind their possession of pay-TV. Per our theory about the importance of cultural capital, education would be more associated with wanting more channels than income. As the theory goes, that would be because education is more directly associated with cultural capital, which has historically been linked to having a preference for more channels beyond the national broadcast channels. Historically, those channels came from outside the nation, even outside the region, from the USA, Japan, and Europe. However, as noted above, recently Latin American companies have started creating their own cable channels, which muddies this picture somewhat. By 2014, it is quite possible to imagine that someone desiring more channels would actually be thinking of the extra national channels that could then be found on pay-TV. We found this pattern of connection between wanting more channels and education in 2004, before the rapid growth in incomes that lifted many out of the

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 147

working class into the middle class in both countries, particularly Brazil. In 2004, when incomes for the lower-middle class had not yet grown, education was logically a better predictor. After that, however, things proceeded to get more complex and by 2014, links between this reason and education were mixed. Our next theoretical expectation, overall, was that people from higher levels of education would more often say that they got pay-TV to get “entertainment and education from other places,” since that probably most closely measures preference for foreign versus domestic channels. In Chap. 4, we found that those with more education and income do in fact prefer programming from the US and Europe more than to those with less education and income. Theoretically, that would be because education is more directly associated with cultural capital, which in some historical studies of Latin American audiences has been associated with a preference for foreign television versus national, while middle-class, lower-middle class, and working-class audiences have tended to prefer national programming, theoretically from a sense of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991, 2003, 2007). The percentage of respondents who cited this reason increased marginally from 2004 to 2014 and, by 2011, this reason drops to the third most likely reason to access multichannel television. Interestingly, the differences between the highest- and lowest-education achievement groups stating this reason for using multichannel television diminished between 2004 and 2014. At the top bracket for education, those with complete or incomplete graduate degrees in all countries considered, the stated reason of “acquiring multichannel television for entertainment and education from other places,” actually initially dropped and ended up virtually the same as in the beginning of the 2004–2014 period initially analyzed. A similar relationship was seen between income and this specific reason for buying multichannel television. It is important to note that higher-­ education groups and higher-income groups were still more likely to state this reason than any other group in all four benchmark years analyzed. That indicates that both economic capital and cultural capital are associated with this reason for getting pay-TV. Clearly, from Bourdieu’s (1984) initial theorization on, the two forms of capital are related. Those with great income usually tend to have higher education as well. So, although we had expected there to be a clearer, larger association between wanting foreign content and cultural versus economic capital, that was not clearly supported overall. So some more theoretical thinking about the relations

148 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

between cultural capital, economic capital, cultural proximity, and the desire for more foreign content is needed. One other possible reason is “to be up to date with the latest in technology,” as Fig. 5.13 shows. This was one of the least likely reasons to be mentioned for subscribing to multichannel television in the Latin American countries surveyed, but yet a growing segment of the population identified this reason—around 5 to 12% overall. It was somewhat more common among the more well-educated and higher-income brackets, which makes sense since they will likely have the economic surplus to go for new technologies simply because they are new and fashionable. The response that people got multichannel television “to have a better [quality of] reception” consistently increased over time as a reason to get pay-TV among most people. It was the third most likely reason for subscribing to multichannel television in 2004, but became the second most likely reason by 2011. People of lower income and education achievement started identifying this reason as one of the top reasons for accessing 50%

40%

30%

20%

10%

0%

To have more television channels

To receive entertainment & information from other places 2004

To have a better reception

2007

2011

To be up to date with the latest in technology

Other

2014

Fig. 5.13  Reasons for multichannel for all Latin American countries (Total responses)

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 149

multichannel television as soon as 2004 in some countries and in all eight countries combined as early as 2007 (See Fig. 5.13). This reason may have become even more pressing as some countries, like Brazil, phased out people’s access to old C-Band satellites that were primarily intended for internal distribution of channels to repeaters and affiliates. Particularly in Brazil, millions of people acquired these old, large dishes to get a good-­ quality signal of national channels (Fig. 5.14). 40%

2004

30% 20% 10%

0%

To have more television channels

Entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

40%

Other

2007

30% 20% 10%

0%

To have more television channels

Entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

40%

Other

2011

30% 20%

10% 0%

To have more television channels

Entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

Other

Fig. 5.14  Reasons for multichannel adoption by educational achievement (combined Latin American countries)

150 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

60%

2014

50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

To have more television channels

Entertainment & informaon from other places

Graduate

College

To have a beer recepon

Terary

To be up to date with the latest in technology

Secondary

Other

Primary

Fig. 5.14  (continued)

For example, in Brazil in 2004, 60% of the poorest 40% of respondents gave this response, compared to 33% of the richest 10%. This issue in 2004 seemed to be more important to the poorest, who are probably also those who live in poor, peripheral areas on the outside of cities where reception is worst. This obviously overlapped the least educated, too, but income presented a clearer, more significant connection (See Fig. 5.15).

The Bust Years: 2014–2019 While the original analysis relied on TGI Latina data between 2004 and 2014, a period characterized by unprecedented economic prosperity in the region, there is no denying the Latin American scenario has changed significantly since then. As noted in a recent paper: The pattern of alternating crisis and growth periods, while minimized throughout the beginning of the 21st century, was not totally eliminated and a new crisis took place starting in 2015. As China’s economy stuttered, demand for commodities that represent Latin America’s main exports decreased sharply, pushing overheated local economies down spiraling down into recession. This time the economic downturn is not only affecting the poor. A significant percentage of those who climbed to a middle-class status on the last boom are at risk of falling back into the poverty they have just escaped. A survey by Latinobarómetro suggests that this economic downfall is expected to have new and unexpected social impact. Some 50% of Latin

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 151 40%

2004

35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0%

To have more television channels

To receive entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

40%

Other

2007

35% 30%

25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0%

To have more television channels

To receive entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

45%

Other

2011

40% 35% 30% 25% 20% 15% 10% 5% 0%

To have more television channels

To receive entertainment & informaon from other places

To have a beer recepon

To be up to date with the latest in technology

Other

Fig. 5.15  Reasons for multichannel adoption by income (combined Latin American countries)

152 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

50%

2014

40% 30% 20% 10% 0%

To have more television channels

To receive entertainment & informaon from other places

Top 10%

To have a beer recepon

Next 20%

To be up to date with the latest in technology

Next 30%

Other

Next 40%

Fig. 5.15  (continued) Americans surveyed thought that the improvement in their living conditions was permanent and giving up what they just earned—including their new media consumption habits—was a painful proposition that became all too real, starting in 2015. Hundreds of thousands of Brazilians, for example, gave up cable TV in 2016. (Castro-Mariño et al., 2019: 120)

So, it is important to consider the impact of the economic downturn of the last five years in the adoption of pay-TV. Compared to earlier years, overall pay-TV subscription rates in 2019 were stably high in Argentina (80%); increased in Mexico (75%), Venezuela (68%), and Chile (68%); somewhat lower in Colombia (57%) and Ecuador (40%); and notably lower in Peru (36%) and Brazil (33%) (Business Bureau, 2020, p. 18) Among the lower SES, Brazil, Chile, and Argentina saw very little change in Pay-TV penetration in the last five years. Colombia saw a growth of 6 percentage points while Mexico is down the same amount since its peak in 2016. All other countries in the group (Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Mexico) maintained only small variances (1 ppt) among the middle-class and upper-class groups, but Brazil had the distinction of being the only country to see a significant decline (6 ppt) during this same period (Straubhaar, 2020). Such trends contradict common sense, as we have been taught by economists that people are rational consumers and, during difficult economic times, they are expected to use their money more parsimoniously. Moreover, this would be reasonably expected to mean that the elite, which usually fares better during economic crises, would be less—not

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 153

more—likely to cut costs, including pay-TV. So why would the Brazilian elite be cutting the cable or satellite cord more than lower classes? While this question probably deserves a study of its own, it is relevant for the current analysis to speculate on its connection to the economic versus culture capitals. The recent paper in Cuadernos quoted above specifically checked the impact of these types of capitals on pay-TV retention when the economies started to crash in Brazil and Mexico in 2015 and theorized that: It would seem that once the new entrants to the consumer market got a taste of pay-TV services, they were not necessarily rational and objective about the decision to eliminate the recently acquired expense during uncertain times to offset some financial hardship, real or potential. Within the comfort of their homes, Brazilians and Mexican residents of different social groups enjoyed the multiple channel selections and kept the families safe from the elevated street violence that tends to accompany economic downturns in these countries (Muggah, Szabó de Carvalho & Aguirre, 2018). As highlighted in the literature review, it also seems likely that having been successfully domesticated into the home, these services would now be costly to drop in terms of family well-being and satisfaction. Pay-TV seems to have become, thus, a hedonic good (Medina et al. 2016). (Castro-Mariño et al., 2019: 131)

In other words, the lower social classes apparently embraced pay-TV as a socioeconomic status symbol and a safe form of entertainment that they were more hesitant to give up than the elite. To be sure, the elite had other considerations going for them. They were more educated and supposedly more prone to act more rationally about it, with plenty of other status icons to hold on to. Moreover, they can afford other relatively more expensive forms of entertainment (e.g., dining, theaters, etc.) and are ready to become early adopters of the new Internet streaming services like Netflix. As we shall see in the next chapter, education is key to adopting more sophisticated technology such as Internet and streaming. The expectation that lower classes would be more attuned to over-the-­ air free broadcasting programming, while the elite would prefer cable channels that have more international content has also been challenged by ratings data. When asked, the industry experts reveal a startling scenario (Straubhaar, 2020). The lower, middle, and higher classes in countries like Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Mexico all spend slightly more than half of their time watching TV tuned to broadcasting channels. More

154 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

importantly, while the lower classes watch more television in total hours, the higher classes spend a higher proportion of their time tuned to broadcasting. One could speculate that sports and news in traditional channels still command their attention, but more studies are necessary to consider the impact of education on such trends. In 2020, IBOPE is expected to release its integrated ratings service called TGR that will allow for the analysis of education and viewing preferences.

Analysis and Conclusion In this chapter, we analyzed how growth in income among the lower-­ middle class would be strongly associated with growth in multichannel. The next-to-lowest 30% income group (using TGI analysis terms for comparing social class across countries), which includes the “new” lower-­ middle (or vulnerable) class, showed the strongest growth in pay-TV use throughout both the initial period and the five years before 2014. Respondents from that income group had a greater increase in multichannel use between 2011 and 2014. The bottom 40%, some of whom are also part of the “new” lower-middle class, but also including those under the poverty line, showed virtually no increase in the first few years considered (2004–2007), but had strong gains in multichannel penetration in the following three benchmark years. In Chile, Peru, and Colombia, this income group showed quite an increase in that second time period. Brazil and Mexico showed a very similar multichannel penetration pattern between the two lower-income groups. This tends to confirm our implicit hypothesis that strong growth in income in the lower-middle class, essentially constituting a new lower-­ middle class, as observed by the World Bank and other studies cited above, would be associated with growth in pay-TV, which had been seen as something of a luxury for such people until the late 2000s, or early 2010s. We also anticipated that education might be even more strongly associated with the growth of pay-TV than income. That is because education is more directly associated with cultural capital, which in some historical studies of Latin American audiences has been associated with a preference for foreign television versus national (Straubhaar, 1991, 2007). That is examined in detail in Chap. 4. Historically, pay-TV was associated with the importation of foreign channels, but that has been changing since the late 2000s because in some Latin American countries, such as Brazil and Mexico, strong national TV

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 155

companies have been increasingly including their own domestic channels on multichannel TV systems. Outside providers like Dish have also been offering low-cost packages that include more national channels to attract subscribers from lower income and education groups. That would change the expectation of a greater preference for pay-TV among the richer and better educated somewhat, by giving the least educated more domestic channels that they would have an easier time relating to (Straubhaar, 2007). We found this latter expectation confirmed in the accelerated adoption of pay-TV across our eight Latin American countries among respondents with a lower education achievement after 2011.

References Arango-Forero, G. (2013). Caracol and RCN TV channels—Beyond the traditional business model. Media management and economics research in a transmedia environment (p. 160). A. B. Albarran, Routledge. Arango-Forero, G., & González-Bernal, M. I. (2009). Televidencias juveniles en Colombia: fragmentación generada por un consumo multicanal. Palabra Clave, 12(2), 215–234. Balio, T. (1998). A major presence in all of the world’s important markets. The globalization of Hollywood in the 1990’s. Contemporary Hollywood Cinema, 58–73. Becerra, M. A., & Mastrini, G. (2010). Crisis. What Crisis? Argentine Media in View of the 2008 International Financial Crisis. International Journal of Communication 4 (2010), 611–629. Becerra, M., & Mastrini, G. (2014). The audiovisual law of Argentina and the changing media landscape. The Political Economy of Communication, 2(1). Borelli, S. H. S., & Priolli, G. (Eds.). (2000). A deusa ferida: por que a Rede Globo não é mais a campeã absoluta de audiência. Summus Editorial. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A social critique of the judgement of taste. Harvard University Press. Bourdieu, P. (1986). The forms of capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of theory and research for the sociology of education (pp. 241–258). Greeenwood Press. Bourdieu, P., Passeron, J. C., & Nice, R. (1977). Education, society and culture. Trans. Richard Nice. London: Sage. Bourdieu, P., & Wacquant, L. (1992). The practice of reflexive sociology. An invitation to reflexive sociology. University of Chicago Press. Bureau, B. (2020). BB Book 2020 – Television-telephony-Internet-OTT-music-video games. Business Bureau. Calhoun, C., LiPuma, E., & Postone, M. (1993). Bourdieu: Critical perspectives. University of Chicago Press.

156 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Castro-Mariño, D., Duarte, L., & Straubhaar, J. (2019). The loyalty to pay TV in periods of economic difficulty in Mexico and Brazil. Cuadernos.info, 45, 41–56. https://doi.org/10.7764/cdi.45.1687 Crovi, D. (1996). Desarrollo de las industrias audiovisuales de México y Canadá. Proyecto Monarca. de Lopes, M. I., & Lemos, L. P. (2019). BRAZIL: streaming, all together and mixed. In Maria Immacolata Vassallo de Lopes Guillermo Orozco Gómez, Eds. Television distribution models by the internet: actors, technologies, strategies. Porto Alegre: Sulina, 2019: 69–104. Duarte, L. G. (1996). É Pagar Para Ver. Summus. Duarte, L. G. (2001). Due South: American television ventures into Latin America. Ph.D. thesis, Michigan State University, East Lansing, MI. Eiró, F. (2019). The vicious cycle in the Bolsa Família program’s implementation: Discretionality and the challenge of social rights consolidation in Brazil. Qualitative Sociology, 42(3), 385–409. Ferreira, F. H. G., Messina, J., & Rigolini, J. (2012). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. World Bank Publications. Retrieved from ProQuest ebrary. Web. 22 December 2014. FocusEconomics. (2020). Economic Growth (GDP, annual variation in %). Retrieved October 18, 2020, from https://www.focus-­economics.com/ economic-­indicator/gdp Fox, E. (1997). Latin American broadcasting: From tango to telenovela. Indiana University Press. Fuenzalida, V. (2001). La TV como industria cultural en la America Latina. Pharos, 8(1), 3–45. Gómez, R., & Sosa, G. (2010). La concentración en el mercado de la televisión restringida en México. Comunicación y sociedad, 14(julio–diciembre), 109–142. Harrison C. (2013). Televisa to acquire Mexico’s Cablecom in $745 million deal. Bloomberg Business, August 1. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/ articles/2013-­08-­01/televisa-­agrees-­to-­745-­million-­deal-­to-­buy-­mexico-­s-­ cablecom?sref=xKGH1vor Lopes, M., & Gómez, G. O. (2015). Transmedia production strategies in television fiction. Sulina. López-Calva, L. F., & Ortiz-Juarez, E. (2014). A vulnerability approach to the definition of the middle class. The Journal of Economic Inequality, 12(1), 23–47. Medina, M., Herrero, M., & Etayo, C. (2016). The impact of DTT in the willingness to pay for TV in Spain. International Journal of Digital Television, 7(1), 83–98. https://doi.org/10.1386/jdtv.7.1.83_1M. Muggah, R., Szabó de Carbalho, I., & Aguirre, K. (2018). Latin America is the world’s most dangerous region. But there are signs it is turning a corner (blog post). Retrieved from https://www.weforum. org/agenda/2018/03/ latinamerica-is-the-worlds-most-dangerous-region-but-there-are-signs-itsturning-a-corner/

5  CHANGING CLASS FORMATIONS AND CHANGING TELEVISION VIEWING… 157

Pérez, M.  D. L.  L. C. (2005). Cultural identity: Between reality and fiction: A transformation of genre and roles in Mexican telenovelas. Television and New Media, 6(4), 407–414. Pew Research Center. (2014). Appendix B: Data sources by country. https:// www.pewforum.org/2019/12/12/appendix-­b-­data-­sources-­by-­country-­3/ Possebon, S. (2009). TV por assinatura: 20 anos de evolução. Asssociação Brasileira de TV por Assinatura (ABTA). Reis, R. (1999). What prevents cable TV from taking off in Brazil? Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, 43. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. Palgrave. Soares, S., Osorio, R. G., et al. (2007). Programas de tranferência condicionada de renda no Brasil, Chile e México: impactos sobre a desigualdade. TEXTO PARA DISCUSSÃO No 1293. Brasília: IPEA. https://bibliotecadigital.seplan.planejamento.gov.br/bitstream/handle/iditem/727/td_1293.pdf?sequence=1 &isAllowed=y Straubhaar, J. (1991). Beyond media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59. Straubhaar, J. (2003). Choosing national TV: Cultural capital, language, and cultural proximity in Brazil. In M. G. Elasmar (Ed.), The impact of international television: A paradigm shift. L. Erlbaum Associates. Straubhaar, J. (2007). World television: From global to local. Sage. Straubhaar, J. (2020). Personal interviews with various industry analysts in Brazil. Straubhaar, J., & Viscasillas, G. (1990). Effects of cable TV in the Dominican Republic. In S.  H. Surlin & W.  C. Soderlund (Eds.), Mass media and the Caribbean (pp. 273–286). Gordon & Breach. Straubhaar, J., et al. (2015). The evolution of television: An analysis of 10 years of TGI Latin America. University of Texas at Austin. Straubhaar, J. D., Sinta, V., Spence, J., & Joyce, V. D. M. H. (2016). Changing class formations and changing television viewing: The new middle class, television and pay television in Brazil and Mexico, 2003–2013. Les enjeux de l’information et de la communication, 2, 207–223. Wicken, G. (2006). Global SEL: Classifying the world (pp. 17–18). AdMap, World Advertising Research Center. Zizola, F. (2014). Brazil’s new middle class. Retrieved October 23, 2014, from http://noorimages.com/feature/brazils-­new-­middle-­class/

CHAPTER 6

Streaming Television, Netflix, and Transverse Transnationalism

Introduction One of our arguments in this book is that Latin America experienced an increased availability of transnational programming: with increased multichannel and streaming television, and with increased transmission of programming from abroad through both of those technologies. This chapter examines the growth of streaming television services in Latin America, the barriers they face in terms of infrastructure and class structures, the competition between national, regional, and global streaming companies, and their various strategies. In particular, this chapter will focus primarily on Netflix and its novel strategies for a transverse, transnationalism programming strategy, and connection with its audience. We will begin by considering Netflix’ and other global streaming companies, such as Disney+, Prime Video, and HBO Max’ strategy in Latin America in theoretical and policy terms. Are they counting on the appeal of their largely US catalogue of programs, which creates a new wave of unbalanced flow of television from the US? If so, theoretically that might be a new wave of media imperialism, a new unbalancing of television flows in favor of even more dominance by both US companies and US catalogs of programming. Is Netflix in particular also counting on the transverse, transnational appeal of its new television programs out of Europe, East

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_6

159

160 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Asia, and elsewhere? That requires some new theorization, hence the introduction of the concept of transverse flows. We will base this in part on Netflix’ own industrial practice of targeting people in taste clusters across national boundaries, cultural boundaries, and what are usually seen as the major markers of individual identity.

Eras of Television and Streaming Levinson describes the three ages of television as the network television age, illustrated as “appointment television” (Caminos et al., 2019, p. 12) lasting until the 1990s, followed by cable and multichannel TV age of the first decade of twentieth century, subscription based and with less supervision, and into an age of Internet television of the second decade of the twentieth century, where audiences could select, from a set menu, the programming they what to watch, when, and how much of it in one sitting. Not only has Internet television revolutionized how we consume television, but also the availability of such programming which is now globally available: it is in this new age of television that global players such as Netflix, YouTube, Amazon, Hulu, and others. This chapter focuses on how this third age of television, Internet or streaming television, is changing how Latin Americans consume television and what they consume, and considers how some of these global media players’ strategy and programming flow, specifically Netflix. Theoretically, this chapter and Chap. 7 consider the appeal of foreign programming in Latin America’s Internet or streaming television, mainly from the US, as an unbalanced flow, a new wave of media imperialism. At the same time, these global players have made cultural productions out of Latin America accessible and available in other countries at an unprecedented rate, potentially a counter-flow. These global media players, while US-based, are counting on the transverse, transnational appeal of new television out of Europe, and elsewhere. In this chapter, we consider the concept of transversality, as the intersection of spaces of existence. Additionally, understanding that availability alone does not explain consumption, this chapter considers how Latin American consumers choose to watch the available national and foreign programming, considering cultural proximity, cosmopolitanism, and cultural capital.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

161

Transversality The concept of transversality, borrowed from mathematics, relates to the intersection of spaces of existence. We primarily use it in its sense of new flows of television cutting across the existing flows. Before the increase of first pay-TV after 2000 and then streaming television viewing after 2010, many Latin American countries had radically increased their own national production and started to sell programs, particularly telenovelas, variety and game shows, and comedy shows, across the region. US inflows had continued with program sales and increased with satellite and cable pay­TV channels. All those are well established since the 1970s, focused on known genres flowing largely within cultural boundaries or earlier paths of exportation set down by Hollywood across the twentieth century. However, the new streaming inflows, particularly from Netflix, are more polycentric and transverse, bringing and promoting more programming from more diverse places. Published interviews with a number of people at Netflix show that they see their audience growing fastest outside the US, that it is increasingly both important and easier to produce outside the US, and that they think US audiences will also like programming from elsewhere. For example, in 2020, Netflix’ president was asked what the next big moves for Netflix were. He said, “What’s next is becoming a great Turkish developer of content, becoming a great Egyptian developer of content, and sharing that with the world” (Spangler, 2020). Furthermore, the mechanism of algorithmic streaming is fundamentally different. It involves amassing considerable data about the viewing habits and preferences of individuals in different cultures and targeting them across cultures by genre preferences instead of traditional cultural boundaries. Elkins summarizes and then cites a Netflix interview, “Netflix uses its complex systems of content tagging and viewer data to locate ‘the most relevant global communities based on a member’s personal tastes and preferences’ (Gomez-Uribe, 2016)” (Elkins, 2019, p.  382). These taste communities are defined across traditional linguistic and cultural boundaries, helping Netflix target individual viewers across those boundaries, cutting across traditional ideas of audiences and flows in a transverse manner. However, the older flows and cultural boundaries are not done away with. Lobato notes that “any single form of television will have multiple geographies simultaneously” (2017, p. 3). Considering that televised programming allows us to experience virtual, cultural spaces that we interact

162 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

with, these spaces can be of different levels of localities and cultures: local, regional, national, and transnational. Overall, this book argues that Latin American audiences continue to be exposed to television at many levels. For those who only have access to broadcast television, or who are really still more interested in it, then the main broadcast channels continue to offer primarily national programs, while other stations offer quite a bit of regional and US programming as well. During the rapid growth of the middle classes, from 2000 on, many more acquired access to satellite, cable, and pay-TV (see Chap. 5). For those who have access to broadband Internet and have both the economic and cultural capitals required, then they also have increasing access to a variety of streaming services. So the multiplicity of what is flowing to audiences in Latin America has been increased.

Reasons Why Streaming Is Increasingly Global There are a number of overall reasons for the global increase of streaming television. Following is a list that draws on Dwyer et al.’s (2018) analysis of the increase of streaming TV in South Korea, along with other factors added by the authors. Nearly all of the same factors apply in Latin America, showing that the region shares in a globalized phenomenon. We will discuss a number of these in greater depth, but this gives an overview. • Increase in the number of devices that can be used with OTT (Dwyer et al., 2018). This has been particularly important with smartphones and mobile broadband in Asia but is still emerging in Latin America. • VOD becoming part of the daily routine of viewing habits of audiences (Dwyer et al., 2018). We will argue that this is a classed behavior, rather than a mass one in Latin America. • Less restrictive regulatory environment than for pay-TV (Dwyer et al., 2018). For example, Brazil places much heavier requirements on pay-TV channels to meet national content quotas so far (Carter, 2017), although the idea has been raised for SVOD channels, too. • Market structures that privileged a few broadcasters and their pay­TV branches, like Australia, South Korea (Dwyer et al., 2018). The Latin American structures have privileged a few dominant broadcasters and a few of them, like TV Globo, have developed a number of pay-TV channels.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

163

• An even more restricted oligopoly in Latin America has been the development of region-wide dominance in telecommunications by one Mexican (TelMex) and one Spanish company (Telefónica), that now have streaming services of their own. • The increasing availability of broadband, particularly when governments put serious effort into getting broadband to nearly all people, as in Australia and South Korea, but unlike Latin America and the US (Dwyer et al., 2018). • Whether Netflix was the first company to introduce SVOD, as in South Korea (Dwyer et al., 2018), or the first global one to develop it on a broad scale as in Latin America. • Relative price advantage compared to other services like pay­TV. There is a large price advantage in most of Latin America, compared to South Korea, where Netflix costs about the same as pay-TV, but is still much cheaper than in the US (Dwyer et al., 2018) or Latin America. For example, an ad in Brazil argued that the monthly fee for Netflix was less than one would spend in a bar on one night (Schiavoni, 2016) • Degree of co-production and other cooperation with the local market, to add materials to SVOD services that have local cultural proximity (Dwyer et al., 2018). For example, Netflix has discovered that it must increase its performance in this area in some countries like South Korea to get traction in the market (Dwyer et al., 2018). • Local content requirements. Some countries, such as Australia, Brazil, France, and others, have threatened to extend to Netflix local content requirements that were created for pay-TV, if Netflix or similar services do not move quickly to fund local co-productions (Dwyer et al., 2018). • Audience familiarity with subscription-based television, as is true with pay-TV. In Latin America, we will argue that this has remained concentrated in the middle, upper-middle, and elite classes (see Chap. 5). • Audience familiarity, among some, with foreign content through illegal downloading and fan subtitling (Tietzmann & Gross Furini, 2016). Illegal downloading grew with “the prevalence of long story arcs in television series and how such format came to be as an attraction factor to audiovisual narratives, the widespread adoption of broadband and various audiovisual replay technologies and its

164 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

c­ onsequences and the ubiquity of social media as an echo chamber for fans” (Tietzmann & Gross Furini, 2016, p. 1). • Trust in credit card operations required for Netflix, as in Brazil (Meimaridis et al., 2020). • Both precedents and competition for Netflix from YouTube. For example, the channel Porta dos Fundos [Brazilian comedy group] on YouTube (Morelli et al., 2016; Carter, 2017). • The force of targeting audiences, primarily in the middle and upper-­ middle classes by their own individual genre interests • Freeing audiences from having to watch commercials, even though pay-TV has been making this appeal for years. This latter appeal seems to be particularly important in Latin America. It is interesting that this appeal is still fresh after years of availability of pay­TV channels like HBO. For example, in Brazil, promotional materials for Netflix were cited in an advertising industry publication. The appeal by Netflix in an advertisement said that in daily exposure of one and half hours more of Netflix and one hour less of broadcast television, the viewer would save 130 hours of advertising commercials per year.1 There are other broad appeals of streaming more specific to Latin America, but which have equivalents in other countries. For example, as noted above, Netflix has to create more local Korean drama to gain attention from Korean audiences. In Latin America, dramas on Netflix have emphasized themes and images common to telenovelas. “For example, the Brazilian trailer for Narcos, “emphasized a man born to a poor family, in a poor country, who before thirty years of age had more money than he could count” (Schiavoni, 2016, pp. 177–178). This extends to offering themes and images that are seen to have resonance across the region. When the idea of streaming was substantially new, in 2011, Netflix promoted itself in ads on Facebook and YouTube (Schiavoni, 2016). Teasers for Netflix focused on series, like Narcos, that had ties to Latin American images and issues, like narcotics traffic, with an image of blood dripping

1  “O cálculo foi feito multiplicando a média de tempo que uma pessoa gasta no Netflix diariamente pela média de comerciais que vão ao ar em uma hora de programação. Com a média diária na plataforma sendo 1,5 horas e que de uma hora na televisão, 15 minutos e 30 segundos são comerciais, o Netflix poupa os assinantes de 130 horas de comerciais por ano” (Meio e Mensagem, 2015). Cited in Schiavoni (2016, p. 172).

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

165

down from white powder to form a map of South America, and that had ties to Brazil, in terms of the director and lead actor.

A Multiplicity of Models for Streaming At the national level, there are very strong companies in Latin America, like Televisa in Mexico and TV Globo in Brazil, that are creating their own streaming platforms. These initially focused on giving online, on-demand access to shows from the broadcast channels. However, TV Globo has created some original content for its streaming service and has also licensed some foreign content not available on broadcast (Meimaridis et al., 2020). At a region-wide level in Latin America, some of the large regional telecommunications carriers, such as the Mexico-based Telmex, Spain-­ based Telefónica, and their national branches such as Telefonica Brasil’s Vivo Play, are creating streaming packages, to add to the appeal of the triple play (telephony, television, and Internet) packages they were already offering (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). There are also standalone services, such as Netflix, Amazon, Claro, HBO, and Disney+. Likewise, a 2020 report from Latin American Business Stories (LABS) indicates a streaming war is raging with Latin America shaping up to be one of the main battlefields, predicting Latin America’s video streaming subscriptions will more than double by 2025 (Labsnews, 2020). The streaming industry in the region is expected to surpass traditional pay-TV in subscriptions. Industry experts are also expecting that much of the growth will be a result of new platforms such as Disney+ and HBO Max that will arrive in 2021. Globally, there are several quite different approaches. YouTube has built considerable appeal, particularly among younger audiences (see tables below), by letting people access US contents, particularly music videos, other global contents, and content created by local producers, either professionalized ones like the humor group Porta dos Fundos in Brazil (Carter, 2017) or a wide variety of local YouTubers not unlike many that emerged in the US and elsewhere but with distinctly local twists, like Afro-Brazilian social justice YouTubers (Mitchell-Walthour, 2020). YouTube in Latin America has a fascinating set of dynamics that we will explore somewhat briefly below.

166 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

YouTube YouTube is very different from most of the streaming services that we will discuss in this chapter. It is much less like the television of a network like TV Globo than is Netflix. YouTube’s motto is “Broadcast Yourself,” encouraging audiences to become producers, what many now call YouTubers. YouTube heavily features music videos ranging from professional to amateur, but is also full of make-up tutorials, how to do it videos about everything, comedy, stunts, cartoons, videos of people playing or even just commenting on video games. It is a rather larger universe than most of what has traditionally been considered television, but is rapidly becoming an important part, not least in Latin America. YouTube has experienced fast growth in Latin America, despite the region’s slower Internet adoption in comparison to other regions. While the United States remains the company’s stronghold, Brazil and Mexico are close behind in terms of hours consumed and Colombia and Argentina are also among the top 15 countries in the world in terms of consumption (Valderrama & Velasco, 2018). In the early 2000s, at the inception of the video-sharing company in the United States, Latin Americans were early to use YouTube’s social network features, but mainly as consumers, placing comments or video responses (Duarte et al., 2007). According to an early study, Latin American users interacted more with videos produced in different regions than other users. However, videos produced by Latin Americans were almost exclusively accessed and responded to by other Latin Americans (Duarte et al., 2007). To a certain extent, early YouTube use, in Latin America, replicated the flows of early television to Latin America, primarily responding to US content. While the social networking, video-sharing website’s strengths lie in its ability to connect individuals across national boundaries in an audio-vision format (Thornton, 2010), the flow of media and communication remains largely uneven. Latin Americans remain huge consumers but, in recent years, have also grown in content creation and providing an audience for those national and regional contents. Some Latin American YouTubers have expanded into an international audience with some prominent YouTubers, such as the Mexican Yuya and the Chilean Garmendia, who have some of the top channels in the world in terms of subscribers (Valderrama & Velasco, 2018). YouTube’s Broadcast Yourself motto remains a strength of the company, in terms of user-generated content (Andrejevic, 2009). However,

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

167

users compete with traditional media, government, and other organizations, who use the platform with much more technical and financial resources (Kim, 2012). In Brazil, TV broadcasters such as RedeTV! and Rede Bandeirantes who do not have their own streaming platform rely heavily on YouTube by making many of their successful programs completely available on YouTube (Meimaridis et al., 2020). While YouTube is celebrated for its democratization of amateur content-creation and distribution of audio-visuals, it currently requires considerable digital sophistication to grow and reach audiences amid the prioritization of certain contents and habits embedded in the company’s algorithm (Valderrama & Velasco, 2018). In this environment, traditional media work in conjunction with YouTube, which acts more as a collaborator rather than a disruptor, with the exception of its competition in terms of advertising revenue, at least for now. The survey of television fiction on both broadcast and streaming television in Latin America and Iberia in 2018 by the Obitel Group noted that most of the open broadcast television stations were putting their streaming programming on YouTube, rather than creating their own platforms (Dettleff et al., 2019).

Netflix Netflix started as an online DVD rental company in the late 1990s, but by 2007, it moved its operation online, with the introduction of online streaming, its Subscription Video-On-Demand (SVOD) service (Jenner, 2016). This move allowed the company to become the global media player it is today, leading other companies in the transition to the third age of television. By September 2010, Netflix started operations in Canada (Nowak, 2010) and, a year later, into Latin America (NY Times, 2011). Today, Netflix is available in nearly every country, streaming videos, mainly films and series, for a flat subscription rate, and producing an increasing amount of original content as well. And while Netflix’s catalogue of available content is impressive in its size, it is limited and curated, as the company licenses or produces new content. In this curated model, most of Netflix’s distributed content comes from the United States (a little over half for movies, and a little under a half for series), followed by the UK, France, Japan, and Germany (Aguiar & Waldfogel, 2018). A study in 2018 of Netflix’s available catalogue of contents to stream in Brazil found that over 80% were from the major Anglophone countries: US, UK, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand (Penner & Straubhaar, 2020). This

168 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

unbalanced flow, stemming mainly from dominant economic and political powers, has led to concerns of a new wave of media imperialism. At the same time, however, Netflix has allowed for the emergence of new cultural products, a counter-flow of television from countries in the Global South and smaller producing countries in the Global North, such as Denmark and Spain (Thussu, 2006). Thussu found some South-South counterflow but relatively little evidence of counter-flow into the major producing countries, such as the U.S. and U.K. However, Netflix raises the prospect of promoting programs from those countries to audiences around the world. In its 2017 catalogue, Netflix offered 273 works from Mexico, 110 from Argentina, 99 from Brazil, and 62 from Colombia (Aguiar & Waldfogel, 2018). While most of its works are from dominant countries, the rate that it distributes content from Latin America exceeds traditional international film distribution of content from the area (Aguiar & Waldfogel, 2018). In this sense, it is a facilitator of increased flow of media out from Latin America. The flow or trade, however, is not free, nor completely free of regulations either and Netflix’ catalogue differs depending on the country (Aguiar & Waldfogel, 2018). Despite challenges with weaker economies and broadband access, Netflix currently has approximately 31.4  million subscribers in Latin America (Statista, 2020), making the region Netflix’s third biggest regional subscriber base, after North America and Western Europe. Since Netflix competes, to a certain extent, with free (or cheaper) videos available through websites like YouTube and social media, and with free (or cheaper) broadcast television, with local content, and established multichannel pay-TV networks, its user-centric strategy and innovative approach has proven successful globally, and certainly in Latin America. Netflix collects data on audience engagement with content which includes selection, ratings, discarded content, repeat content, length of engagement, and others. This data is collected not to sell its audience to advertisers, as much of the strategy of television has been, but rather to create a user experience catering to the unique user, retaining loyal subscribers (Fernández-Manzano et al., 2016). Its algorithm facilitates audiences’ interaction with content, suggesting the kinds of videos that increase time spent and engagement, allowing the company’s curated content to feel personal. The company centers its decision making based on big data, with the combination of internal data management and content metadata, which results in strategic decisions on content production,

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

169

catalog acquisition, and at the end, what viewers see (Fernández-Manzano et al., 2016). In addition to its reliance on big data in the core of its business strategy, Netflix relies extensively on social media and viral social media campaigns to boost audience engagement and expand its audience base (Fernández-­ Gómez & Martín-Quevedo, 2018). Netflix relies on traditional advertising, such as billboards, magazine, and other promotional campaigns, but it also “uses messages posted on Twitter and other social networking platforms to build expectations about live events and flesh out story lines before, during and after series are presented” (Fernández-Gómez & Martín-Quevedo, 2018, p. 130). One of its more recent strategies is that of content producer, which means that the company financed the content production and owns the rights for distribution (Rossini & Renner, 2015). Netflix Originals gained popularity and recognition, and it also allowed the company to move content creation alongside its business decisions and market strategies, which is to say that big data, once again, plays a big role. Producing its own content has allowed Netflix to glocalize (Robertson, 1995) its content. For example, in 2013, when Netflix was starting to produce foreign content, it financed the Brazilian mini-series “A Toca,” with the objective of engaging with a Brazilian audience (Rossini & Renner, 2015). Later on, the highly successful Narcos, directed by the Brazilian José Padilha and written by American Chris Brancato, engages a global audience in this drama about the rise of drug trafficking in Colombia. Netflix has been investing in Latin American content production with well over 50 original productions in the region (Hecht, 2019). Among its productions are shorter stand-up comedy specials, a response to the mobile use of the platform. Latin America’s increased mobile adoption, with some countries already achieving saturation point, and audience’s preference for watching Internet television on mobile devices, as this chapter later shows, has led to the production of content with shorter duration, such as the comedy specials. Sandvine showed that Netflix was growing its share of top applications on fixed Internet access in Latin America, but it did not show as a top ten application on mobile devices (Sandvine, 2016). Netflix has developed a broadly transnational strategy that we will consider as transverse, given the way it cuts across traditional television and film flows. Netflix has developed far more extensive production and co-­ production in a fairly wide variety of countries than any of its competitors.

170 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

That paid off for them particularly well in the COVID-19 pandemic that shut down television production in the US for longer than in a number of other places. Netflix was able to keep a supply chain of production going in other countries. It is promoting productions from many of those places across the world, including in its core markets, like the US. In effect, it has gone for a fully global strategy long before its other competitors. For example, the new head of HBO Max, once head of Hulu, was asked in 2020 how Netflix got ahead. He noted that “The main difference was the fact that Netflix leaned heavily into going global. Hulu was able to launch in Japan. But it didn’t launch globally” (Shaw, 2020). Among its strategy to gain local subscribers, Netflix has made entire seasons of popular foreign sitcoms available, alongside successful national productions, such as biblical telenovelas from Brazil’s Record TV (Meimaridis et al., 2020). It also offered access to foreign content that was becoming increasingly popular, such as Korean and Turkish dramas, which have become available in relatively few broadcast television stations in Latin America (Vassallo de Lopes & Orozco Gómez 2019). Netflix has also invested heavily in independent production companies. In Brazil, that strategy proved to be highly successful and the company currently has an office in the country. The Brazilian sci-fi drama 3% released in 2016, for example, gained popularity in the country and specially abroad (Meimaridis et al., 2020).

Disney+, HBO, Amazon Prime At the other extreme, Disney seems likely to continue with a line-up that flirts with ethnic and international diversity (Valdivia et  al., 2008) but always has its core formulas and elements in place, closely controlled by the home system in Hollywood, even when it tells a Chinese story like the cartoon version of Mulan (Chan, 2001) or the live version of that story in 2020. Disney only plans to launch in Latin America in 2021, so we will not consider it extensively here. After Disney has fully absorbed Hulu, it is hard to say what Hulu’s strategy will be, although it was not really a global player before, either. Disney has used it as a place for productions that don’t fully fit the Disney image or strategy, so it could evolve in interesting ways. However, Hulu is still not distributed internationally. Part of HBO’s image, including in Latin America, has been that of a source of quality drama. Part of the effort to define quality TV includes an association with drama. HBO has already been pursuing some interesting co-productions in Latin America, which seems likely to increase. In fact, as

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

171

Netflix did, HBO Max has signaled an intention to start its own greater globalization with Latin America (Shaw, 2020), but it, too, will only launch in Latin America as an independent streaming service in 2021 (HBO Go is currently available as a streaming service only for those who have a pay-TV subscription to HBO). Amazon Prime Video is increasing its presence in Latin America. It offers Prime Video subscriptions by themselves throughout most of Latin America but is now offering a very low cost ($2 per month in Brazil and $46 yearly in Mexico) package of Amazon Prime shopping plus video in Brazil and Mexico (Spangler, 2019). It is offering both classic U.S. productions, including some from Disney for 2019–2020, and some classics like El Chavo from Mexico. It is also increasing its presence with offices in Rio de Janeiro and plans to produce originals in both Brazil and Mexico. However, it is not putting Latin America as a first priority as Netflix did and HBO Max seems likely to do (Middleton, 2019).

Broad Range of Streaming Competitors in Latin America In Brazil and Mexico, each streaming consumer already adopts an average of 2.5 services, according to a survey by Ampere Analysis (2020). While no one knows with certainty if the stacking of multiple streaming platforms is sustainable, it is definitely telling of a trend in which new competitors try to win customers from Netflix. The upcoming Disney+ and HBO Max are currently fighting to be the “second choices.” A senior analyst at Ampere, a British media consultancy, indicated that the Latin American stacking (multiple subscription) rate for streaming platforms will get closer to the higher levels of Western Europe (Pimentel, 2020). In terms of forecast, Digital TV Research, a firm that provides business intelligence for the television industry, predicts that Disney+ will be the second biggest streaming platform after Netflix in Latin America by 2025, while HBO Max and Amazon Prime compete for third place. Simon Murray, a principal analyst at Digital TV Research, believes the success of Disney is partly due to its brand global appeal and because it has been very efficient at pre-selling and getting subscriptions up before the launch of services. Murray indicated Disney+ will have a very fast take-up in Latin America and that Brazil will be its third-largest market (Pimentel, 2020). Disney reorganized in mid-October 2020 to further emphasize streaming. “They

172 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Subscription VOD

TV Everywhere

Transaction VOD

Fig. 6.1  OTT players with the most users

Free VOD

Repelis

Pelis Plus

Torrents/P2P Nick Jr.

SBT

Telecine On

Google Play Movies

Discovery Kids

Nat Geo

FOX App

Claro Video

Amazon

iTunes Movies

Netflix

YouTube

want to be seen as the Netflix challenger,” said Hal Vogel, a veteran media analyst. “This signals how strongly they’re invested in taking Netflix on.” Likewise, HBO Max is scheduled to launch in the region by 2021, with Latin America being the first market outside the US. Digital TV Research predicts that HBO Max will add 2.2 million users on top of its base of current subscribers (HBO Go, and pay-TV) in the next five years. COO at AT&T, John Stankey revealed that HBO reported 10 million clients in the region (Pimentel, 2020) making it the number one competitor for Amazon Prime. Given that 80% of Netflix recent growth has come from expanding in international markets, the streaming wars will be probably fought outside of the U.S. where Netflix already has a sizable advantage having produced original content tailored to different cultures and languages. Figure 6.1 shows a snapshot of the number of users of the most popular streaming services in Latin America as of 2019. It reflects the diversity of categories of streaming services and the kinds of players. Among subscription video on demand, on the left of the figure, the most popular is Netflix, followed by Amazon Prime Video, both US services. However, third is Claro Video, a Mexican platform owned by America Móvil, related to

Not Legal

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

173

TelMex, the largest telecommunication company in Mexico, and one of the largest throughout Latin America. Fourth is HBO Go (a streaming service for those who already have a pay-TV subscription to HBO), but fifth is another distinct type of operation, GloboPlay, the streaming operation of the Globo Organization, the parent of TV Globo of Brazil. Another type of operation is represented in the second pie chart below, services operated by pay-TV channels that are accessible only to the current paying subscribers of those services, a form of streaming called TV Everywhere. All of those are from the US so far. The third pie chart represents services like iTunes that sell specific movies or television shows, referred to as Transaction Video on Demand. iTunes and Google play are the top services there but other services from Latin America are in third– fifth places. The fourth pie chart represents Free Video on Demand. That is dominated by YouTube, but the second most popular service is SBT, a Brazilian broadcast channel and the fifth is a service by Televisa of Mexico. The fifth category represents platforms for illegal downloading, which have no single dominant service.

Toward a Systematic Classification of the New Online Video Players As the technology made it increasingly easier for video distribution and watching through the Internet, the second decade of the twenty-first century saw a boom in online video services across the globe. Given the global nature of the Internet, some companies were born global and others quickly entered an internationalization process similar to what cable TV programmers did in the 1990s (Duarte, 2009). The expansion toward Latin America took place earlier than previous media services, though, as some major services such as Netflix made the region one of their first major targets in their international expansion (Hopewell, 2019). There are a lot of streaming competitors in Latin America. As of 2019, there were 99 VOD platforms of various types in Argentina, 94 in Mexico, and 78 in Brazil (Lopes & Lemos, 2019, p. 91). The numerous companies venturing into Latin America can be grouped in a variety of ways, but we want to propose a two-dimensional approach where we consider the structural or institutional model, the DNA of the company behind each service, and the financial models they have adopted. As illustrated in Table 6.1, below is one way we propose to consider the company categories, based in large part on their origins:

Subscription VOD

Pluto TV Qubit.TV

YouTube (48%) Google Play (3%) SBT (8%) Televisa Online (3%) Nick Jr (6%)

Ad-supported iTunes (23%) Google Play (16%)

Transaction VOD

Fox (9%) Telecine On Nat Geo (7%) (15%) Discovery Kids (7%) HBO (6%) Fox Sports (6%) Claro (9%) DIRECTV/ Izzi MX (7%) SKY Studio+

TV everywhere

Pelis Plus (8%) Repelis (7%) Mega (7%) Anime FLV (6%)

Torrents/P2P (19%)

Illegal

Crackle Canopy

Institutional subscription/other

Notes: Percentage refers to proportion of financial model total. Some other services in italics added for illustration, but no percentage data available

Source: BB-Media 2020 (2020)

Independents

Claro (6%) DIRECTV

HBO (6%)

Pay-TV programmers

Telcos Pay-TV distributors

Globoplay (4%)

Open TV networks

Technology companies Netflix (46%) Amazon (8%)

Types of company/ financial model

Table 6.1  OTT players with the most users in Latin America-2019

174  J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

175

• Technology companies—Netflix and Amazon started as technology companies outside the traditional media industry. They leveraged their distribution expertise to break into the media world and soon became programmers themselves to consolidate their leadership positions. • Open TV networks—Broadcasters like Globo, Televisa, and SBT (Sistema Brasileira de Televisão) launched their online platforms to allow viewers to catch up to missed episodes of telenovelas and other series, not unlike the original design of Hulu in the US, but soon built standalone services that bundled all the content they produced in large and valuable video-on-demand libraries • Pay-TV programmers—HBO, AMC, and other traditional cable TV networks have built an online presence, first limited to current cable/satellite subscribers (the TV Everywhere concept) and then independent of the pay-TV distributors. As program aggregators and producers, these companies already have a cache of content and a loyal base of viewers to build upon. • Pay-TV distributors—As programmers started to show signs of defection from traditional satellite and cable distributors, not to mention the up-and-coming telcos, they have been seeking to stay relevant with so-called skinny bundles that put together whatever else content they can gather. Services like DISH in Mexico, SKY in Brazil, and DIRECTV in other parts of the region compete • Telecommunications companies—Around the Latin American region, and worldwide, telecommunications companies have moved into related areas, first mobile telephones, then Internet services, and television distribution over the Internet. So companies still bearing the names of popular cell phone companies, like Vivo (Telefonica, based in Spain) and Claro (Telmex, based in Mexico), are now fighting to find a niche in Internet streaming television. • Independents—The low barriers to entry into this new media environment have also allowed for many small independent companies with niche content to join the list of players. From free-fighting to do-it-yourself and even religious programs, they have dramatically expanded the scope of programming available, but their tenuous finances may not allow them to become long term players. Just as it happened with cable TV networks, an eventual cleanse of the market may take place. In this group are Pluto TV, Qubit.TV, and others.

176 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

The background of the companies helps understand where they are coming from and their primary commitment. Technology companies like Amazon and Netflix are coming from outside the media industry and have no existing media business to protect, so they are open to play by their own rules and leverage their technology background to provide superior user experiences. The open networks like TV Globo or Televisa and pay­TV programmers like Fox or HBO Go naturally have a lot of content to offer, but they need to protect their existing primary business, which is still a lot more profitable, although companies like Disney seem increasingly willing to risk more in a move to streaming, which was one of their most profitable business during the COVID-19 virus period of people staying home. Pay-TV distributors like Sky or DirecTV and telecoms like Telmex/ Claro or Telefónica/Vivo/Movistar already have a business relationship with viewers—one that has been profitable too, but they need to aggregate content from others or become programmers themselves. And finally, the independents are mostly new smaller entrants to the business relying mostly on their production capacity in niche areas. And when it comes to the financial models these companies have adopted, we may observe one or more of these models for each given service: • Institutional subscriptions or free services—Beyond the many irregular sources of content in the Internet, a few services like Crackle, Kanopy, and others offer free libraries of programs that are not necessarily supported by advertising, although Kanopy is largely supported by library subscriptions (O’Falt, 2019). • Ad-supported—Pluto TV is a good example of a diverse program aggregator supported via advertising insertions (Spangler, 2020). Universal’s Peacock has yet to launch in Latin America, but it is the most significant example, as it aggregates all Universal content, much like Disney and Warner Studios did. • Transaction—The most known provider of videos that can be rented (pay per view) or purchased by download is Apple’s iTunes, but Amazon also provides similar services, particularly for films. • Subscription expansions—Most cable TV networks started offering some or all of their libraries online to current pay-TV subscribers, thus avoiding losing viewers from the more profitable distribution partners, this was sometimes referred to under the marketing slogan “TV Everywhere.”

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

177

• Independent subscriptions—Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, and others provide unlimited access to a library of old and new programs and films for a low monthly subscription. • Illegal—BitTorrent and other illegal download sites still occupy a notable fraction of user activity Most companies are currently offering a mixed mode of engagement with some content offered at no cost (and supported by advertising), others available individually for rent/sale and others yet included in a subscription package.

Media Imperialism As we can see in Fig.  6.1, there are a number of intra-Latin America streaming services, such as Claro Video or Globoplay, which often rank in the top five services. However, the top two services in any category are usually global U.S. streaming services, like Netflix, Amazon Prime, Fox, National Geographic Play, iTunes, and YouTube. So the most obvious immediate effect of all the new global streaming systems seems to be to further unbalance the flow of television to Latin America from the U.S. in particular, but from the Anglophone world, Japan, and Europe as well. A 2018 study of the Netflix catalog in Brazil showed that of Netflix exclusive programs, 58% were from the U.S., the U.K. (8%), Canada (6%), and Japan (6%), with all other countries less than 3% each. Brazilian production was only a little over 1% (Penner & Straubhaar, 2020). There is clearly an unbalanced flow, topped by the U.S., but secondarily by the rest of the Anglophone world. It is reminiscent of the 1970s conclusion by Tunstall, that the world’s media were Anglo-American (Tunstall, 1977). Which doesn’t mean that the state is permanent. An analysis by Ampere Analytics estimated that “in 2019 Netflix spent $2.8  billion on original content, of which $880  million—just over 30%—was spent on international originals” (Gadher, 2019). That indicates an increase in spending on international originals. Regarding the changes in the world toward local and regional television production, Tunstall later noted that “the media were American,” but that changed (Tunstall, 2008). We make a more nuanced argument for a stratified multiplicity, that streaming (and pay-TV, as we saw in Chap. 5). That is that the television of the world’s upper-middle and upper classes is and probably will continue to be first Anglo-American, and secondarily global,

178 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

at least in the near future, but that the television of most others in the middle classes on down will not necessarily be that, due to cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991), governments’ desire to promote national identity, and nationally based broadcast television systems. (See Chap. 3 for our analysis of why much of television viewing remains national). One of the major questions for media imperialism is where production takes place and where flows come from. One of the complex elements of this new picture is that Netflix has been steadily increasing the amount of production it does outside the U.S.  Discussing the paralysis of most U.S. networks’ production during COVID-19 in 2020, one industry analyst noted, “Over the past couple of years, [Netflix] has amassed a network of studio facilities overseas, where production has been easier to restart. ‘The Witcher,’ one of Netflix’s biggest hits last year, began filming its second season in Hungary earlier this week, for instance” (Dotan, 2020). However, it may be that Netflix and other global distribution and programming services and following a pattern where financial decisions about what to produce and programming decisions about what to stream remain in the U.S., rather like the pattern described for a global Hollywood by Miller et al. (2005), with production taking place around the world, but decision-making still based in Hollywood.

Platform Imperialism Beyond the question of where television and film is produced, another hugely important question is who controls the decision-making and who benefits financially from owning the services. Building on past critiques of cultural imperialism, some prominent political economists are looking very critically at the new wave of largely U.S.-based digital media companies (Chakravartty & Schiller, 2011; Jin, 2017; Schiller, 2000), particularly social media, Google, and Amazon (Jin, 2017), but also probably including Netflix (Elkins, 2019), which comes more out of a Silicon Valley mode of operation, at least originally, than a Hollywood one. The key elements of the platform imperialism critique (Jin, 2017) are that although content from a variety of places might flow through a global platform, like Facebook or Netflix, that fundamental control and financial benefit are clearly centered in their U.S. base of operations. The platforms are often quasi-monopolies in their areas of function, although Netflix faces more competition from Amazon Prime or Disney+ than does Facebook or Google. However, the main competitors are also U.S. based

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

179

and the effective competition is still by a relatively small oligopoly (Meehan, 2020). The platform controls navigation by the user and prompts or suggests content to them through accumulating big data and using algorithms to refine that information into suggestions designed to hold the user’s time and attention on the platform (Jin, 2017; Elkins, 2019). Political economists argue that the monopoly (or oligopoly) capitalist nature of platforms, their degree of dominance and control, and their global reach make them imperial in their structure and operations. We see this political economy as fundamental to understanding global streaming services but would argue that there are other important layers of their operations and meaning as well.

Streaming Services as Global and Cosmopolitan In many debates in the 1990s and on, globalization was seen as a theoretical and analytical replacement for cultural imperialism, one that took more account of active audiences, cultural diversity, the decentralization of cultural production, and flow (Appadurai, 1990, 1996; Featherstone, 1990; Straubhaar, 1991; Tomlinson, 1997). In this book, we are relying more on a concept of multiplicity and of asymmetrical interdependence: that nationalism/nationalization, dependency, regionalism, cultural imperialism, and globalization co-exist, depending on what nation or region, what level of activity, what classes of stratified societies, what producers and distributors, what companies and platforms are involved, and which levels of flow we are looking at. However, part of what makes Netflix particularly interesting among streaming services is its explicit strategy of globalization, at the level of production and supply of television, the promotion and distribution of television across various cultural boundaries, and its appeal to being global and cosmopolitan in a desirable sense, to appeal to its target audience (Elkins, 2019). A renewed wave of nationalism and even national mercantilism is plainly on view in some of the world’s biggest countries, such as China, Great Britain, Russia, and the United States, at least under Presidents and Prime Ministers Xi, Johnson, Putin, and Trump (Blackwill & Wright, 2020), even though these new nationalisms still play out in a globalized economy. Dependency was created as a concept to describe development within the post-colonial history of Latin America, and it still persists in various countries and sectors to various degrees. One factor behind Straubhaar’s (1991) concept of asymmetrical interdependence, based on a study of Brazil, was

180 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

to acknowledge that a broadcaster in a developing country like Brazil might be dependent on outside technology, borrow foreign (commercial) ways of doing broadcasting, use outside funding when an enterprise is new, borrow genre ideas from around the region, but still develop a highly productive industry that fills its own market and even becomes a strong exporter to both the region and the world. In other words, it might be dependent in some areas but independent, even dominant in some others, hence part of an asymmetrical interdependence. Globalization has been key to Netflix’ strategy when it expanded into Latin America in 2011 and when it expanded into the rest of the world, then 190 countries, in 2016. Observing the simultaneous launch of a new program, Daredevil to 190 countries simultaneously, a Wired Magazine journalist observed, that as of 2016 (Barrett, 2016): For Netflix, becoming a truly global network presents a path for steady growth over the next decade and beyond. It has 75  million subscribers today; there are seven billion more out there. For the world, Netflix’s aspiration could mean much more: the first glimpse at what happens when every part of an online entertainment empire, from interface to content to delivery, is engineered to be everything to everyone, all of the time.

Elkins observes that some streaming services like Netflix and Spotify make being global part of their brand, asking how they imagine globality and how they perform it (Elkins, 2019). “Netflix and Spotify each ask their consumer and industry constituencies to view the platform as a steward of a benevolent form of globalization characterized by liberal-­ cosmopolitan ideals of international connection […] by centralizing international, intercultural connection and affinity within their public images, the platforms attempt to legitimize their globally expanding business and technological practices as humanistic and cosmopolitan rather than faceless, mathematical, and all-consuming” (Elkins, 2019, p. 377).

Transverse Flows and Streaming Companies Transversality, as we see it here, implies that this new television system, which includes global media companies such as Netflix, allows for both programs and audiences to cross the existing spatial lines defined by national and regional television flows, by focusing less on where the audiences are, or their language or culture, and more on their motivation for accessing programming, past viewing behavior and interest in different

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

181

programming from other cultures, which we also explore as cultural capital and cosmopolitanism. Netflix’ strategy contradicts what we thought we understood about the way that culture flows within boundaries of language and culture. For example: Stereotypes about what one region might like versus another are largely useless to Netflix. One might assume, for example, that Netflix’s anime streaming is heavily concentrated in Japan. Yet only 10 percent of the people who watch anime on Netflix live there. The other 90 percent […] are distributed around the globe. (Barrett, 2016)

That allows audiences some comfort in creating new habits of crossing spaces, based on content and recommendation. Understanding, then, which contents are more accepted in this transversal television flow and use, which ones are national or transnational in nature, and where the intersectionality happens is relevant. The proximate and the transnational are both available, on broadcast, cable/satellite, and streaming television, although not for everyone, given that Netflix requires broadband Internet (see below). Netflix, in particular, intersects the programming, making space not irrelevant but “crossable.” Netflix has declared a strategy of targeting individuals across cultures and languages according to their genre interests, using big data to generate detailed individual profiles and algorithmic tracking and targeting of individuals to offer them what they and those similar to them seem to like best (Hallinan & Striphas, 2016; Burroughs, 2018; Jenner, 2018). It is these new media players, such as Netflix and YouTube, who allow for both the companies and the audience to intersect spaces of existence. Schrag, in presenting Satre’s use of the concept of transversality, which focused on ego and transcendental philosophy, stated that intentionality was social: “What is required is an acknowledgement of the play and performance of transversality as a play of social practices and institutional constellations whose intentionality antedates the constituting activity of an individuated consciousness” (Schrag, 1994, p. 272). Netflix and YouTube present content based on audiences’ individual preferences, so transversality, and the crossing of spaces, is as much a practice of these organizations as it is an active, individual intention of consuming specific kinds of TV programming. Our book offers an audience-based understanding of how, in this new television system in Latin America, audiences move simultaneously, across the proximate and the distant or foreign, in virtual TV-based spaces.

182 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Taste Clusters Across Borders and Algorithmic Globalization All of the major platform companies are using some version of algorithmic identification of audience tastes to enable targeting individuals with contents and, depending on their model, advertising. Among the global streaming companies, Netflix was the first to discuss this mechanism as crucial to their own operations, particularly their ability to conduct extensive globalization of programming. Reinforcing our concept of transverse programming, Netflix makes a point of discussing how it crosses geographic, linguistic, and cultural boundaries. This challenges very directly the concept of programming to both target and reinforce national identity, which has been crucial to most broadcasting since the 1950s in most of the developing countries of the world, including Latin America (Katz & Wedell, 1976). This also challenges the logic of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991), as discussed in Chap. 3, although that theory has always acknowledged that social class and cultural capital can lead upper-middle and elite classes away from its logic, since they have become more internationalized, as discussed in Chap. 4. It also challenges the extensive work done on regional cultural commonalities and flows (Sinclair et al., 1996). Elkins observes: If, as Netflix claims, taste cannot be reduced to demographic identity or geographic location, then taste clusters/communities can highlight moments of unexpected affinity between people from different backgrounds. By using observed taste to group its audience rather than demographics based on geo-cultural and cultural-linguistic similarity, Netflix attempts to square the highly individualized nature of its recommendation system with the global scope of its operations. (Elkins, 2019, p. 383)

Comedy has long been thought of as rather culturally specific, that it is harder for jokes to cross culture and language borders, even social classes, than other genres of television (Friedman & Kuipers, 2013). Speaking specifically of Netflix’ comedy programming, after interviews with several of its comedy programming executives, Zinoman, writing in The New York Times, observed: Unlike traditional media outlets, Netflix does not fixate on categories of age, gender or race. “We don’t pull demographic information because you would be in danger of imparting biases of what a 75-year-old Japanese grand-

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

183

mother would want to watch versus a 14-year-old kid from Ohio,” Ms. Nishimura said. “But there are moments in time when they are in the exact same taste cluster. We see it all the time”. The Netflix system has more than 2,000 “taste clusters” that measure content by tone, timbre and feeling to predict what you will want to see when you log onto the site… Ms. Nishimura said the breakout Hannah Gadsby (comedy) show, “Nanette,” also appeals to fans of the documentary “Wild Wild Country”: Both explore “what motivates people under pressure.” (Zinoman, 2018)

Elkins (2019) claims Netflix did not develop the idea of the taste cluster, that the concept is well known and used in psychographic marketing. The idea is that similar taste in entertainment will bind people from across different geographies and cultures. These taste clusters are able to associate the platform “with a vision of algorithmic culture’s globalization that is marked by interconnection and cosmopolitanism rather than stereotyping, global uniformity, and quantification” (Elkins, 2019, p. 377).

Problems of Access to Streaming Streaming is increasing in its competition with pay-TV. For example, “For the first time, in Brazil Netflix has more subscribers than the entire pay-TV market. Comparitch estimates that [Netflix] had nearly 17.9M subs at the end of Q2 (making Brazil its second biggest market!). In the last three years, in Brazil [Netflix’s] subscriber base has doubled, while pay-TV has lost 15%” (Hartman, 2020). There are several problems that might keep potential audiences away from streaming television. The largest is probably the lack of broadband access for most Latin American populations. Getting people to use streaming television in Latin America has not been easy. After launching in 2011, Netflix had to contend with low use of credit cards, distrust of using them online, a habit of expecting online content to be free, low quality of Internet services (Meimaridis et  al., 2020), and limited access to broadband (Straubhaar et al., 2019). Easton shows a notable increase in SVOD subscriptions from 2019 to 2020, from 2.8 million in Colombia (2019) to 3.9 million (2020), from 3.9 million to 4.9 million in Argentina, from 11.4 million to 14.9 million in Mexico, and 15.8 million to 19.9 million in Brazil. He further predicts steady increases until at least 2025 (Easton, 2020). Another problem is income or economic capital (Bourdieu, 1984). Even if a typical monthly subscriber fee for a service like Netflix might

184 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

seem modest at around $8, it is more than most Latin Americans outside the middle or even the upper-middle class can afford. As Chap. 5 notes, there was quite a bit of social and economic mobility in Latin America from the 1990s to the 2010s. In particular, a new lower-middle class grew that might have aspired to have pay-TV, broadband Internet, or now streaming. The third problem is one of getting a decent quality streaming signal to audiences or users without creating infrastructure bottlenecks to getting a signal or even crashing local Internet service providers with too much demand. Some streaming services have worked hard to address that. For example, Netflix has added its own local servers at a number of locations in Latin America. When Netflix launched in Brazil, it delivered 100 percent of traffic to that market directly from Open Connect boxes in Dallas and Miami. House of Cards got there all the same, but more slowly and at greater expense. Netflix has worked with local Internet service providers to install Open Connect appliances at critical points throughout the country’s data infrastructure. Netflix loads up each box—during off-hours—with one or two copies of what nearby customers are most likely to watch, based on internal popularity prediction models. That means one stream over a long distance, rather than thousands, if not more. If Netflix guesses wrong, and a substantial audience wants to watch something that’s not pre-loaded onto an Open Connect appliance, it takes Netflix just 15 minutes to move a show from Amazon’s cloud to one of its boxes. The result? Eighty-five percent of Brazilian Netflix traffic today is local. (Barrett, 2016)

Netflix Strategy in Latin America Latin American productions have a history of success in the world film industry, including a record of Oscar nominations and international awards for movies like the Brazilian City of God, the Argentine film The Secret in Their Eyes, and the Mexican Pan’s Labyrinth and Roma (Lima, 2020). There is an even larger history of successful Latin American television production and export, first within the region by Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, Venezuela, and more recently, Colombia, then major exports around the world by Mexico and Brazil from the 1990s on, as noted in Chap. 3. The existence of strong Latin American productions in both cinema and television was quite probably part of Netflix’ move into Latin America

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

185

in 2011 not only to distribute U.S. films and series but also to produce locally (Lima, 2020). Brazil and Mexico produced the first Netflix originals outside the United States. The number of original Netflix productions in the region has skyrocketed with Brazil preparing to release 30 Brazilian productions by the end of 2020 (Lima, 2020), and Mexico will have 50 projects between 2019 and 2020 produced from the recently inaugurated Mexico City office (Villafañe, 2020). From very early on, Netflix invested in a Latin American homogenous audience. The vice president of International Originals for Latin America at Netflix said, “Our foray into Latin America in 2011 reflects our belief that the entire region, from Brazil to Mexico, wants to see their own narratives reflected on the screen” (Lima, 2020). Netflix started producing original content for its Mexican audience in 2015 with the comedy Club de Cuervos, which was the most in demand streaming title in 2017  in Mexico (Parrot Analytics, 2018). As media scholar Mareike Jenner (2018) points out in Netflix and the Re-invention of Television, “the show is a parody of telenovelas” attempting to address a Mexican national audience by drawing on the national media history, the telenovela format, and “a transnational audience familiar with Mexican exports” (p. 227). Jenner claims the Mexican market is very significant for Netflix, since Mexico is the dominant exporter of cultural products in Latin America. Netflix’s first major production in Brazil, 3%, was also a take-off on telenovela tropes and styles, but in a future science fiction dystopia, set in a Brazilian looking slum. Curiously, although it was critiqued in Brazil for the quality of its script, costume design, and acting (Meimaridis et  al., 2020), in comparison to the relatively high production quality of TV Globo, it was an international success for Netflix. So these first two Netflix experiments were both successful. One created a big hit within Mexico and for the region, while the other used the Brazilian production capability to produce something that was more of a world hit, but less for the nation and region. Netflix is looking to grow their original productions. Erik Barmack, vice president of International Originals, said Netflix is doing more than ten productions per year in Mexico, and more than ten in Spain. “Some in Colombia and Argentina, our goal is to have a broader supply of programming from different parts of Latin American and different genres” (Interview for AFP, 2018). In Brazil, Netflix intends to create about 30 productions in 2019–2021 in series, films, and documentaries (Meimaridis

186 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

et al., 2020). Additionally, Barmack said the platform has 130 million subscribers, and that only 60% of their audience resides in the United States. He also said Latin America is one of its biggest markets, which is why they have 50 seasons of television series in Spanish between originals and acquired licenses. The company’s interest in the market and the amount of original productions in the region make a compelling case to study the way it creates national productions. In 2010, Netflix extended internationally, and as of 2020, Netflix had 183 million subscribers around the world (Zeitchik, 2020). To be clear, the number of subscribers is only the number of accounts, not the number of users. Each account can be shared with as many as four users. In addition, Netflix expansion strategies include the production of original content “Netflix originals.” In a conference early in 2020, CFO David Wells indicated the company is set to spend over $8 billion in content in 2018 to have around 700 original TV shows in its collection (Spangler, 2018). Out of those 700, 80 are non-English-language productions. Those numbers indicate Netflix has positioned itself as a major global TV service provider and content producer in just the last ten years. As of 2018, Netflix claimed it was ready to invest $8000 million in original content. Barmack said during an interview in Mexico City that the company was investing more money internationally than any other company before. He said it was a unique thing to want to take some of those millions of dollars to Mexico, Colombia, or Spain (Angeles, 2018). Out of about 700 international originals that the company intended to debut in 2018, 20 were to come out of Latin America. It is not difficult to understand why Netflix would invest money and resources in Mexico and Brazil, given their status as major content exporters in the region (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Lobato (2019) who refers to transnational television as the “propensity for television distribution systems to cross one or more national borders” (p. 50), and global television as those services that are present on many international markets claims that Netflix operates as a transnational, global, and cosmopolitan company. What makes Netflix particularly transnational and cosmopolitan, Lobato (2019) argues, is its vast multilingual content, even if much is still Hollywood-centric, its translation services, and that by aggregating a huge amount of international content, “Netflix also enables a certain cosmopolitan consumption experience” (p. 70). (See Chap. 7 for a more detailed discussion of cosmopolitanism). In an attempt to locate Netflix in the broader television history and its role as transnational television producer, Mareike Jenner (2018) coined

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

187

the term “grammar of transnationalism.’” The term borrows from Sabina Mihelj’s (2011) “grammars of nationhood” to address the way Netflix’ in-house contents are created for a global audience instead of a national one: “Unlike domestic broadcasters that seek domestic appeal first and transnational appeal second, Netflix formulates its transnationalism from the outset” (Jenner, 2018, p.  227). Jenner first identifies the streaming company’s strategies to position itself as a producer of “quality” TV, and its marketing efforts to push for a binge-watching mode of consumption. Jenner also pinpoints Netflix’ attempts to deal with comedy and quality comedies to insert itself into the popular realm more attuned with global audiences.

Netflix and Quality Television What is interesting, Jenner argues, is how Netflix relies on cultural distinctions to create new content. “The removal of the laugh track, quality comedies “focus on more complex jokes that build over several episodes instead. And the elimination of the catch phrase, help producers and creators make the move from the typical comedy to a quality ‘smart’ comedy” (p. 147). (We will examine the question of cultural distinction more closely in Chap. 7). The strategy seems to be replicated for international audiences. When Netflix penetrated the Mexican market, it had in its catalogue a large variety of Televisa’s telenovelas. In Brazil, Netflix could not get access to TV Globo’s telenovelas because Globo intended from the start to launch its own service. In 2016, Televisa launched its own streaming platform, Blim, and removed all of its content from Netflix. Netflix launched a couple of video ads to mock Televisa’s decision and send a very important, and in some ways elitist message: “we do not need your telenovelas.” The video shows a man crying in front of a television screen. A woman appears and asks, “what’s wrong?” “Netflix got rid of my favorite show.” The worried woman asks, “which one? Breaking Bad, Orange is the New Black?” The man replies: “No, Rebelde” (a popular telenovela from 2004). The woman cannot contain her laugh. The idea to compare a telenovela from 2004 with Breaking Bad confirms that Netflix is not interested in losing that type of programming, because it has already introduced Mexican audiences to its quality content, which in their ad, is implied, it is clearly superior.

188 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Echoing Bourdieu’s (1984) concept of cultural distinction and taste emerges the idea of quality television. Taking Kant’s definition of “pure taste,” Bourdieu asserts there is a distinction between certain cultural products, and there is a refusal to consume simple and shallow cultural goods as opposed to legitimate art: The refusal of what is easy in the sense of simple, and therefore shallow, and cheap, because it is easily decoded and culturally, undemanding (…) everything which offers pleasure that are too immediately accessible and so discredited as childish or primitive. (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 486)

Similarly, Newman and Levine imply there are class distinctions embedded in the concept of quality TV, in which one is for the more affluent audiences, that not only have the economic capital to pay for an extra cable subscription, like HBO or Showtime, but that can actually enjoy the cinematic aesthetic and slow pace. Whereas, the old comedy is directed at the masses. In that sense, Bourdieu comments on the rejection of simple and unrefined culture: “Thus, Kant’s principle of pure taste is nothing other than a refusal, a disgust, a disgust for object which impose enjoyment and a disgust for the crude, vulgar taste which revels in the imposed enjoyment” (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 488). Jenner claims Netflix is intentionally dealing with issues of diversity and representation in the way that traditional broadcasts cannot further reassure their quality status. For instance, shows like Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Grace and Frankie, and Master of None fall into what Jenner (2018) calls a “strand overly committed to issues of gender and sexuality, often with an emphasis on intersectionality” (p. 148). Likewise, the pattern seems to follow for their international series, like the Mexican Casa de las Flores. The show, although, a comedy and drama styled in the fashion of telenovelas, deals with homosexuality, transphobia, drug consumption, and race, issues that would never see the light of day in Televisa or TV Azteca. Some of the elements of the “grammar of transnationalism,” a strategy Netflix deploys to navigate between domestication and dealing with a transnational audience, are quality TV, language and translation, humor, and choice of actors. As with the case of Club de Cuervos, Jenner (2018) claims that although it follows the style of telenovela, a genre commonly linked with low culture or popular culture in Latin America, by making a parody out of it, “it positions itself as ‘quality’ comedy, assuming a

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

189

superiority to it” (p.  227). Another aspect Jenner rescues from Netflix’ tactics is its focus on multilingualism and its importance to reach transnational audiences: “The multilingualism becomes particularly important here: for example, Narcos employs Spanish to represent Colombian culture as well as linguistic realism. A consequence of this is its popularity in Latin American markets. Thus, Netflix’s drive towards diversity is closely linked with its transnational expansion project” (2018, p. 175).

Multilingualism on Netflix Multilingualism serves two purposes for Netflix. First, it reinforces its position as a quality television producer, and second, it appeals to international audiences that might be able to connect with different characters presented in American television. Francisco Ramos, vice president of Spanish-language Originals for Netflix in Latin America indicated in an interview that “language is no longer a barrier. Only ambition and quality are barriers” (Lang, 2020). Hinting at Netflix’ strategy, Ramos said that what he and the company are looking for is authentic local content that should work in its own territory first, and then travel abroad (Lang, 2020). A similar strategy seems to apply for commissions, Ramos stated that the best way to get local stories is to find, support, and promote local production talent: “The first thing is, we need to empower,” he said. “We must give power to our local executives in each country so they can create the fabric of local relationships with the producers from those regions” (Lang, 2020). One of Netflix’ biggest strategies for localization is its translation services. Lobato (2019) indicates how much of this work is done by freelancers and subcontracts from firms all over the world. These firms are part of the GILT sector, or globalization, internationalization, localization, and translation, a new industry that has been growing since the 1990s with the cable and satellite boom (Lobato, 2019). Aside from the strategies mentioned above to attract transnational audiences, Jenner indicates Netflix utilizes translation and dubbing to domesticate its content. Netflix provides many different subtitle languages and less in dubbing, but it is increasing its dubbing capabilities. As Lobato claims: “Netflix may well be the most multilingual television service that has ever existed” (p. 120). In that spirit, Netflix announced that nine out of ten people watching the German Netflix original Dark were watching dubbed in English. In fact, 81% of people in English-speaking countries watched Dark dubbed (Gill,

190 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

2018). Todd Yellin, Netflix’s Vice President of Product, referred that the company’s intention to reach wider international audiences are implicit in the way they present their content: “At Netflix we think that’s ridiculous: Internet TV and the technology involved, the distribution network involved, makes it so that when we come out with a great new Original, we flip a switch and everyone gets it at the same time” (quoted in Gill, 2018). As for Jenner’s “grammar of transnationalism” when it comes to Netflix originals, the company differs greatly from traditional broadcasters. Netflix produces its original content planning to have a transnational audience that will consume it regardless of the country of origin. Whereas, it has been the American tradition to produce TV shows thinking about the American audience and then find the right markets for exportation. For instance, The Crown and Stranger Things, although seemingly very national, one about British history and the other about life and American culture of the 80s have been major hits worldwide. The secret to their success, Jenner claims, lays on using popular culture as points of reference and ignoring problematic issues of the time (Reaganism and British Empire). Somehow, both shows managed to be incredibly specific about the two different countries but simultaneously appealing to international audiences. In sum, Jenner argues Netflix originals, regardless of the country in which they were produced all include at least some of the features of the “grammar of transnationalism” such as: “genre [quality TV], a version of history that relies heavily on postmodernism, aesthetics, a commitment to liberal humanism or a negotiation of translation languages that takes diversity in skill levels and cultural preferences into account” (p.  231). This “grammar of transnationalism” is part of Netflix strategy to offer international and quality content to the entire world. Lobato would argue that the concrete commitment to high quality subtitling and subbing is equally important (2019).

Netflix Production in Latin America As seen in the timeline, it is clear that Netflix started a slow and perhaps hesitant investment in Mexico that then turned into a full production endeavor. When it first went into the region it only do so with agreements to show programming from regional broadcasting companies with a long history in Latin America such as TV Bandeirantes and TV Globo from Brazil; Televisa and TV Azteca from Mexico; Caracol and RCTV from

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

191

Venezuela; and Telefe from Argentina. Four years later Netflix announces its first Latin American original, Club de Cuervos from Mexico, and it wasn’t until 2017, that it started producing La Casa de las Flores, Las Leyendas, Diablero, and Luis Miguel, la serie, while it also released Ingobernable. Then in 2018, besides, releasing Luis Miguel, la serie, the reality show Made in Mexico, a Club de Cuervos spin-off, La Balada de Hugo Sánchez, and the now extremely popular Casa de las Flores, Netflix also initiated production for another four Mexican originals: Seis Manos, Monarca, Crime Diaries: The Candidate, and Yankee. A similar narrative can be seen with Brazilian originals on Netflix. In 2016 when Netflix announced its first Brazilian original, 3%, one of the main press talking points was that the series was being directed by Oscar nominee Cesar Charlone who had also worked in other Brazilian international hits like Cidade de Deus and Ensaio sobre a Cegueira. Netflix’s Barkmack highlighted the importance Netflix places on using local talent to produce stories that audiences worldwide will be able to relate to: “We support Brazilian talent, and we continue to recognize their appeal around the world. Our members globally will get to enjoy this incredible story with complex and rarely portrayed characters who have found a home at Netflix,” said Barmack in a press release posted on Netflix official website. The strategy seemed to work, data from Parrot Analytics showed that half the audience of the first season of 3% was located outside Brazil (Lang, 2020). A year later, Netflix was ready to announce their second Brazilian production, O Mecanismo, a fictional drama loosely based on the investigation of corruption between the state and privately owned oil company Odebrecht. O Mecanismo was created by the internationally recognized Brazilian director José Padilha, who directed the critically acclaimed Elite Squad and produced the first three seasons of Netflix original series Narcos. Part of the strategy to advertise quality television included mentioning in a press release that O Mecanismo was a Zazen production: “one of the most award-winning movie producers in Brazil” (The Futon Critic, May 9, 2017). Then in 2019, Netflix indicated it was teaming up with Brazil’s top creators to produce 30 originals in the following two years. Ted Sarandos, Netflix chief content officer said: “Brazil has extraordinary talent and a long tradition of great storytelling. It’s why we’re so excited to increase our investment in the Brazilian creative community. These 30 projects, which are in various stages of production in different locations

192 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

across the country, will be made in Brazil and watched by the world” (as cited in Whittingham, 2019). Likewise, Netflix announced in 2018 they will premier six original titles from Colombia between 2018 and 2019. These included the crime anthology Crime Diaries: The Night Out profiling the case of young Luis Andrés Colmenares who was murdered in Bogota in 2010. The first season of this anthology featured the assassination of Mexican presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio. Other original Netflix Colombia titles include Wild District, Always a Witch and Green Frontier. When Netflix announced its 2018 Colombian original catalogue, Reed Hastings, Netflix CEO, was quoted on a press release saying: “Netflix is humbled and proud to give a voice to local talent and creators, helping them to not only reach Colombian viewers, but also to connect people all around the world to their unique stories.” Hastings also mentioned how the streaming company is committed to diversifying their content “via an ever-evolving platform that transcends borders. We’re excited to continue investing and exploring in the country.” The emphasis on local productions and talent was also visible in the additional video Netflix produced to announce the new Colombian originals. The video, titled “From Colombia to the world” (De Colombia para el mundo), featured clips from the newly announced series and was accompanied by the text: “These are our stories. These are our voices. This is our moment. From Colombia to the world.” The promotional video reinforces Netflix’ strategy of localizing its content while at the same time producing quality television to export to the rest of the world. Also worth noting are the regional production houses behind Netflix’ successes. The Bogota-based Dynamo provided production services to some of the biggest Netflix hits in Latin America including the Crime Diaries anthology (Mexico and Colombia), Green Frontier (Colombia), Wild District (Colombia), Narcos (Colombia, Mexico), El Chapo (Mexico, US), and Club de Cuervos: The Ballad of Hugo Sanchez (Mexico). Their productivity might have been possible, thanks to a film incentive Colombia established to draw foreign shoots (Hecht, 2013). In 2012, the Colombian government passed a law to encourage local and foreign film productions. The film companies that use Colombian film service providers and actors are eligible to receive a return of 40% of the costs of all services expenses and 20% of expenses for transportation (Steckenreiter, n.d.). Moreover, it is interesting to see that Netflix has already at least two very successful partnerships with the two major Hispanic networks in the

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

193

U.S., Telemundo and Univision. Netflix co-produced Luis Miguel, la serie with Telemundo, and three seasons of El Chapo with Univision and it is serving its Latin American market differently, releasing only one episode a week of the Telemundo co-production. Likewise, Netflix seems to be employing producers and directors with an already established reputation for quality productions. For instance, Manolo Caro, showrunner for Casa de las Flores, was the director for the acclaimed Elvira, te daría mi vida pero la estoy usando in 2015 starring Cecilia Suárez (Casa de las Flores) and Luis Gerardo Méndez (Club de Cuervos). The collaborations and use of the same combination of actors seem to be working for Netflix. In addition, the brothers Billy and Fernando Rovzar, who had already produced a couple of shows for HBO Latinoamérica, will be involved in the upcoming Monarca. And the same is the case for Verónica Velasco, producer of Ingobernable, who had already produced Capadocia (2008–2012) starring Cecilia Suárez for HBO Latinoamérica and also produced Yankee for Netflix.

Conclusion Transnational programming, both from the U.S. and elsewhere, has been further strengthened and transformed in Latin America by incoming streaming platforms that offer another substantial layer of international content, building on earlier layers of flow such as pay-TV and the sale of many imported programs to broadcast stations and networks. We argue that the concept of transversality can help us understand the novel nature of the new streaming flows that add to but also cut across existing spaces and existing television flows. They do that by directly targeting individual audience members as part of groups by taste and genre preferences, or what Netflix calls taste clusters. This direct targeting of individuals, guided by algorithms using big data that the streaming companies gather about their individual viewers’ program and genre preferences, is a strikingly different kind of flow, no longer bounded, limited, or controlled by language, culture, or national policies promoting national or regional programming or identity. This is why we have taken the concept of transversality and redefined it to apply to this substantially new form of flow. It is transverse because it cuts across traditional flows: from the U.S. to Latin America, within the regional market of Latin America, and within the national markets of the countries themselves. This is made possible by the

194 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

technological breakthrough of algorithms and big data, restructuring what was possible with previous forms and layers of flow. In other words, we considered the history of well-established national media markets, particularly Mexico and Brazil, which have filled their own national spaces with national production (see Chap. 3). We have examined regional flows, including exports by Mexico and Brazil, plus others such as Argentina, Chile, and Colombia, exporting telenovelas, and other genres (see Chap. 3). And we examine how those ongoing dynamics are now interacting with streaming platforms. Transversality means that global streaming media companies make it possible for audiences and content to travel between national and regional television flows motivated by taste preferences regardless of geographic, linguistic, and cultural boundaries. One of the reasons as to why streaming has become global includes the multiplicity of models available in different platforms. This chapter outlined and classified in a two-dimensional approach how national media companies, international and regional pay-TV companies, international and regional telecommunication companies, and a variety of standalone services have joined the streaming industry. These models lead us into a discussion about platform imperialism (Jin, 2017), in which companies might offer global content and cater to national, regional, and global audiences, but operations, control, and financial gain continue to be controlled by the U.S. firms. While one of the upsides of the new global streamers, particularly Netflix, is that they are paying for dozens of co-­ productions, particularly in Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico, the ultimate financial, production, and distribution decisions are made in the U.S., rather like the current pattern of global production with a new global distribution of labor by Hollywood (Miller et al., 2005), but with a great deal more power to target individual consumers and promote their productions via algorithmic recommendations (Elkins, 2019; Lobato, 2019). In this chapter, we have also laid out the strategies deployed by Netflix to penetrate the Latin American market. We have concluded that in their first major co-productions, Netflix seems to be taking a page from the Televisa and Globo playbooks. Their first Netflix originals in the region are Club de Cuervos in Mexico and 3% in Brazil using familiar telenovela tropes and familiar actors. Also, worth noting is that these two countries have a history of being major exporters to the region (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013), which makes them ideal in geographic and cultural terms as initial partners for Netflix to create content for the region.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

195

Likewise, Netflix has taken the concept of quality TV, originally developed by HBO, and cultural distinctions (Bourdieu, 1984) to create originals that appeal to an upper-middle class and elite transnational audience. Building on our earlier analysis of why Latin Americans choose to watch U.S. and European television and film in Chap. 4, we note that cultural capital from education, family connections, travel, language learning, and so on enable those who possess those forms of cultural capital to enjoy and prefer more foreign programming. We can see that Netflix and the others are following this already established culture pattern, reinforced by the fact that these better-off Latin American audiences are also the ones most likely to have home broadband or other forms of access that let them afford to stream hours of high quality image television. Another important point we make here is with regard to the issue of multilingualism. That is the efforts Netflix has taken to translate, dub, and make its content available in different languages. Multilingualism not only positions Netflix as a transnational and global competitor, but it reinforces its position as a quality TV producer. Further, it appears Netflix has found a formula for success in its Latin American market, sharing actors, directors, and producers with HBO Latinoamérica and relying on popular genres such as telenovelas, narco dramas, the new action super series, and bio-series.

References AFP. (2018, September 16). Netflix multiplica su producción en español: ¿labra el camino de un Emmy más global? https://www.france24.com/es/2018 0916-­netflix-­multiplica-­su-­produccion-­en-­espanol-­labra-­el-­camino-­de-­un-­em my-­mas-­global Aguiar, L., & Waldfogel, J. (2018). Netflix: Global hegemon or facilitator of frictionless digital trade? Journal of Cultural Economics, 42(3), 419–445. Andrejevic, M. (2009). Exploiting YouTube: Contradictions of user-generated labor. The YouTube Reader, 413, 36. Angeles, A. (October 31, 2018). Aparte de público, Netflix ve en México una fuente de inspiración y producción. Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com. mx/formula-letal-denetflix-contra-la-tv-tradicional/. Appadurai, A. (1990). Disjuncture and difference in the global cultural economy. In M. Featherstone (Ed.), Global culture. Sage. Appadurai, A. (1996). Modernity at large: Cultural dimensions of globalization. University of Minnesota Press. Barrett, B. (2016). Netflix’s grand, daring, maybe crazy plan to conquer the world. Wired. https://www.wired.com/2016/03/netflixs-­grand-­maybe-­crazy-­plan-­ conquer-­world/

196 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

BB Book. (2020). Television, Telephony, Internet, OTTs, Music, Video Games. Buenos Aires: BB Vision. Blackwill, R. D., & Wright, T. (2020). The end of world order and American foreign policy. Council on Foreign Relations, Council Special Report (86). Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction. Harvard University Press. Burroughs, B. (2018). House of Netflix: Streaming media and digital lore. Popular Communication, 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1080/15405702.2017.1343948 Caminos, A., Médola, S., & Suing, A. (Eds.). (2019). A Nova Televisão  – do Youtube ao Netflix. Ria Editoral. Carter, E. (2017). Entering through the Porta dos Fundos: The changing landscape of Brazilian television fiction. Television & New Media, 18(5), 410–426. https://doi.org/10.1177/1527476416667822 Chakravartty, P., & Schiller, D. (2011). Global financial crisis| Neoliberal newspeak and digital capitalism in crisis. International Journal of Communication, 4, 23. Chan, J. (2001). Disnefying and globalizing the Chinese legend of Mulan: A study of transculturation. In C.  A. McIntyre (Ed.), In search of boundaries: Communication, nation states and cultural identities (pp. 225–248). Ablex. Dettleff, J., Cassano, G., & Vásquez, G. (2019). Ibero-American television fiction in times of internet distribution. In M.  I. V.  Lopes & G.  O. Gómez (Eds.), Television distribution models by the internet: Actors, technologies, strategies. Sulina. Dotan, T. (2020, August 21). The people in power at Netflix: An update. The Information. https://www.theinformation.com/articles/the-­people-­in­power-­at-­netflix-­an-­update Duarte, L. G. (2009). The cable empire strikes Latin America: How American pay­TV conquered the continent. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. Duarte, F., Benevenuto, F., Almeida, V., & Almeida, J. (2007, October). Geographical characterization of YouTube: A Latin American view. In 2007 Latin American Web Conference (LA-WEB 2007) (pp. 13–21). IEEE. Dwyer, P., Shim, Y., Lee, H., & Hutchinson, J. (2018). Comparing digital media industries in South Korea and Australia: The case of Netflix take-up. International Journal of Communication, 12, 4553–4572. Easton, J. (2020). Latin America to break 100 million SVOD subs by 2025. Digital TV Europe. https://www.digitaltveurope.com/2020/09/01/ latin-­america-­to-­break-­100-­million-­svod-­subs-­by-­2025/ Elkins, E. (2019). Algorithmic cosmopolitanism: On the global claims of digital entertainment platforms. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 36(4), 376–389. Featherstone, M. (1990). Global culture: An introduction. Theory, Culture and Society, 7, 1–15.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

197

Fernández-Gómez, E., & Martín-Quevedo, J. (2018). La estrategia de engagement de Netflix España en Twitter. El profesional de la información (EPI), 27(6), 1292–1302. Fernández-Manzano, E. P., Neira, E., & Clares-Gavilán, J. (2016). Data management in audiovisual business: Netflix as a case study. El profesional de la información (EPI), 25(4), 568–576. Friedman, S., & Kuipers, G. (2013). The divisive power of humour: Comedy, taste and symbolic boundaries. Cultural Sociology, 7(2), 179–195. https://doi. org/10.1177/1749975513477405 Gadher, D. (2019). 30% of Netflix original content spend in 2019 went on international titles. Ampere Analytics. https://www.ampereanalysis.com/insight/30­of-­netflix-­original-­content-­spend-­in-­2019-­went-­on-­international-­titles Gill, J. (2018). Netflix doubles down on dubbing with new series The Rain – but is it the right strategy? Retrieved from https://www.radiotimes.com/news/ on-demand/2018-05-04/netflix-subtitles-dubbing-settings-foreignlanguage-shows/. Hallinan, B., & Striphas, T. (2016). Recommended for you: The Netflix Prize and the production of algorithmic culture. New Media & Society, 18, 117–137. Hartman, M. (2020, August 8). Netflix subscribers and revenue by country. Linked In Posting. https://www.linkedin.com/posts/m-­hartman_netflix-­ subscribers-­and-­revenue-­by-­country-­activity-­6705204879260037120-­wMag Hecht, J. (2013, November 7). Colombia’s dynamo to launch production fund. The Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/ colombias-­dynamo-­launch-­production-­fund-­583914 Hecht, J. (2019). Netflix to produce 50 projects in Mexico. Hollywood Reporter. https://www.hollywoodr epor ter.com/news/netflix-­p r oduce-­5 0­projects-­mexico-­1185950 Hopewell, J. (2019, October 12). Streaming changes the game for Latin American TV. Retrieved September 27, 2020, from https://variety.com/2019/tv/features/streaming-­changes-­the-­game-­for-­latin-­american-­tv-­1203368591/ Jenner, M. (2016). Is this TVIV? On Netflix, TVIII and binge-watching. New Media & Society, 18(2), 257–273. Jenner, M. (2018). Netflix and the Re-invention of Television. Springer. Jin, D. Y. (2017). Global digital culture| Digital platform as a double-edged sword: How to interpret cultural flows in the platform era (Vol. 11). Katz, E., & Wedell, G. (1976). Broadcasting in the third world. Harvard University Press. Kim, J. (2012). The institutionalization of YouTube: From user-generated content to professionally generated content. Media, Culture & Society, 34(1), 53–67. Labsnews. (2020). The contest for Latin America’s audiences intensifies. https:// labsnews.com/en/collection/video-­streaming-­latin-­america/ Lang, J. (2020, September 4). Netflix’s Francisco Ramos: ‘Language is no longer a barrier, only ambition and quality are barriers’. Variety. Variety.com.

198 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Lima, A. (2020, June 19). How streaming platforms are taking Latin American productions to new global audiences. LABS: Latin American Business Stories. Labsnews.com Lobato, R. (2017). Streaming services and the changing global geography of television. In B. Ward (Ed.), Handbook on geographies of technology. Edward Elgar Publishing. Lobato, R. (2019). Netflix nations: The geography of digital distribution. New York University Press. https://doi.org/10.18574/9781479882281 Meehan, E. R. (2020). Watching television: A political economic approach. In A Companion to Television (pp. 345–360). Meimaridis, M., Mazur, D., & Rios, D. (2020). The streaming wars in the global periphery: A glimpse from Brazil series. International Journal of TV Serial Narratives, vi(1), 65–76. https://doi.org/10.6092/issn.2421-­454x/10457 Mensagem, M.  E. (2015). Netflix poupa 130 horas de propaganda. Meio e Mensagem. http://www.meioemensagem.com.br/home/midia/noticias/ 2015/08/27/Netflix-­poupa-­130-­horas-­depropaganda.html Middleton, R. (2019). Amazon Prime Video’s global playbook. Television Business International. https://tbivision.com/2019/10/11/amazon-­prime-­videos­global-­playbook/ Mihelj, S. (2011). Media nations: Communicating belonging and exclusion in the modern world. Palgrave Macmillan. Miller, T., Govil, N., Maxwell, R., & McMurria, J. (2005). Global Hollywood 2 (London: British Film Institute). Mitchell-Walthour, G. (2020). Afro-Brazilian women YouTubers’ use of African-­ American media representations to promote social justice in Brazil. Journal of African American Studies, 24(1), 149–163. Morelli, B., Renó, D., & Belda, F. (2016). A ecologia midiática transformando o audiovisual como negócio e discurso: o Portal dos Fundos. In D.  P. Renó, M. Américo, A. F. Magnoni, & F. Irigaray (Eds.), O audiovisual contemporâneo: Mercado, educação e novas telas (p.  200). UNR Editora. Editorial de la Universidad Nacional de Rosario. Nowak, P. (2010, September 22). Netflix launches Canadian movie service. CBS News. https://www.cbc.ca/news/technology/netflix-­launches-­canadian­movie-­service-­1.872505 NY Times. (2011, September 5). Netflix begins expansion in Latin America. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/06/business/global/ netflix-­begins-­expansion-­in-­latin-­america.html O’Falt, C. (2019). As Kanopy’s popularity grows, can your library continue to afford it? Indie Wire, June 26. https://www.indiewire.com/2019/06/ n e w -­y o r k -­p u b l i c -­l i b r a r y -­d r o p s -­k a n o p y -­n e t f l i x -­a l t e r n a t i v e -­t o o -­ expensive-­1202153550/ Parrot Analytics. (2018, February 13). Latin America: Regional differences in TV content popularity for Argentinian, Colombian, Mexican and US Hispanic

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

199

audiences. https://www.parrotanalytics.com/insights/latin-­america-­regional­d ifferences-­t v-­c ontent-­p opularity-­a rgentinian-­c olombian-­m exican-­u s­hispanic-­audiences/ Penner, T. A., & Straubhaar, J. (2020). Títulos originais e licenciados com exclusividade no catálogo brasileiro da Netflix. Matrizes, 14(1), 125–149. https:// doi.org/10.11606/issn.1982-­8160.v14i1p125-­149 Pimentel, J.  P. (2020, June 7). Disney+ and HBO Max to capitalize on Latin Americans’ stacking platforms. LABS: Latin American Business Stories. Labsnews.com Robertson, R. (1995). Glocalization: Time-space and homogeneity-­heterogeneity. Global Modernities, 2(1), 25–44. Rossini, M.  D. S., & Renner, A.  G. (2015). Nova cultura visual? Netflix e a mudança no processo de produção, distribuição e consumo do audiovisual. In Congresso Brasileiro de Ciências da Comunicação (38.: 2015 set.: Rio de Janeiro, RJ). Anais [recurso eletrônico]. Intercom. Sandvine. (2016). Global internet phenomena: North America & Latin America. Sandvine Inc. https://www.sandvine.com/hubfs/downloads/archive/2016-­ global-­internet-­phenomena-­report-­latin-­america-­and-­north-­america.pdf Schiavoni, J. E. (2016). Netflix e a série “Narcos”: Estratégias de promoção de promoção e divulgação. In D.  P. Renó, M.  Américo, A.  F. Magnoni, & F. Irigaray (Eds.), O audiovisual contemporâneo: Mercado, educação e novas telas (Libro digital, PDF ed., pp.  169–183). UNR Editora. Editorial de la Universidad Nacional de Rosario. Schiller, D. (2000). Digital capitalism: Networking the global market system. MIT Press. Schrag, C. O. (1994). Philosophical papers: Betwixt and between. SUNY Press. Shaw, L. (2020). WarnerMedia’s new CEO says HBO Max has one clear edge over Netflix. Bloomberg Business Week. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/ ar ticles/2020-­0 8-­1 0/what-­s -­t he-­b est-­s treaming-­s er vice-­j ason-­k ilar­wants-­hbo-­max-­to-­defeat-­netflix?sref=xKGH1vor Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. BFI/Palgrave. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New patterns in global television (pp. 1–15). Oxford University Press. Spangler, T. (2018, Feb. 27). Netflix Eyeing Total of About 700 Original TV Series in 2018—Variety. Retrieved October 8, 2021, from https://variety. com/2018/digital/news/netflix-700-original-series-2018-1202711940/. Spangler, T. (2019). Disney Inks one-year Amazon Prime video content deal for Latin America. Variety. https://variety.com/2019/digital/news/disney­amazon-­prime-­video-­latin-­america-­1203355032/ Spangler, T. (2020). Reed Hastings on new book, Netflix’s future – And why he fired his last CFO. Variety. https://variety.com/2020/digital/news/ reed-­hastings-­book-­netflix-­cfo-­fired-­1234755643/

200 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Statista. (2020, September 8). Latin America: Number of Netflix subscribers 2017–2025. Statista Research Department. Retrieved September 22, 2020, from https://www.statista.com/statistics/324452/latin-­america-­netflix-­subscribers/#:~:text=Latn%20America%3A%20number%20of%20Netflix%20subscribers%202017%2D2025&text=In%202019%2C%20Netflix%20had%20 31.42to%2042.49%20million%20by%202025 Straubhaar, J. D., Castro, D., Duarte, L. G., & Spence, J. (2019). Class, pay TV access and Netflix in Latin America: Transformation within a digital divide. Critical Studies in Television, 14(2), 233–254. Steckenreiter, D. (n.d.). Colombian film industry – Tax incentives. Escape Artist. https://www.escapear tist.com/blog/colombian-­f ilm-­i ndustr y-­t ax­incentives/ Straubhaar, J. (1991). Beyond media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59. Tietzmann, R. & Gross Furini, L. (2016). Sharing without laws: an exploration of social practices and ad hoc labeling standards in online movie piracy. Internet Policy Review, 5(2). https://doi.org/10.14763/2016.2.416. Thornton, N. (2010). YouTube: Transnational fandom and Mexican divas. Transnational Cinemas, 1(1), 53–67. Thussu, D.  K. (Ed.). (2006). Media on the move: Global flow and contra-flow. Routledge. Tomlinson, J. (1997). Cultural globalization and cultural imperialism. In A.  Mohammadi (Ed.), International communication and globalization (pp. 170–190). Sage. Tunstall, J. (1977). The media are American. Columbia University Press. Tunstall, J. (2008). The media were American: US mass media in decline. Oxford University Press. Valderrama, M., & Velasco, P. (2018). ¿ Programando la creación? Una exploración al campo socio-técnico de YouTube en Chile. Cuadernos, 42, 39–53. Valdivia, A.  N., Beltran, M., & Fojas, C. (2008). Mixed race on the Disney Channel: From Johnnie Tsunami through Lizzie McGuire and ending with the Cheetah Girls. In M.  C. Beltran & C.  Fojas (Eds.), Mixed Race Hollywood: Multiraciality in Film and Media Culture (pp.  269–289). New  York University Press. Vassallo de Lopes, M. and Orozco Gómez, G., 2019. Television Distribution Models by the Internet: Actors, Technologies, Strategies. OBITEL yearbook. p. 377. Vassallo de Lopes & Lemos, L. P. (2019). TIME OF BRAZILIAN STREAMING. Rede, 1, 3–31. Villafañe, V. (2020, September 15). Diego Luna Project ‘Todo Va A Estar Bien’ among Netflix slate of new originals to be produced in Mexico. Forbes. Forbs.com.

6  STREAMING TELEVISION, NETFLIX, AND TRANSVERSE TRANSNATIONALISM 

201

Whittingham, C. (2019, April 24). Netflix ups investment in Brazilian originals. C21 Media. https://www.c21media.net/netflix-­ups-­investment-­in-­brazilian­originals/ Zeitchik, S. (2020, April 21). Netflix adds a whopping 16 million subscribers worldwide as coronavirus keeps people home. Washington Post. Retrieved October 5, 2020, from https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2020/04/21/ netflix-­adds-­whopping-­16-­million-­subscribers-­worldwide-­coronavirus-­keeps-­ people-­home/ Zinoman, J. (2018). The Netflix executives who bent comedy to their will. New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/09/arts/television/netflix-­ comedy-­strategy-­exclusive.html

CHAPTER 7

Netflix, Distinction, and Cosmopolitanism Among Latin American Middle Class and Elite Audiences

This chapter explores two theoretical implications that seem promising to explain some of the television preferences of upper-middle-class and elite audiences in Latin America. We discuss how both cultural distinction (Bourdieu, 1984) and cosmopolitanism (Beck, 2004; Szerszynski & Urry, 2006; Hannerz & Ulf Hannerz, 1996) are useful for thinking about streaming services like Netflix, Amazon Prime, or Disney spread through the world, in our particular interest here, through Latin America. Bourdieu’s theories of capital help us explain how economic and social advantages can provide access and sufficient cultural knowledge to consume and understand foreign cultural products, specifically television and film. He also discusses in his original work Distinction (1984) how those in upper-middle or upper classes also use their greater store of cultural capital to draw social distinctions between them and those in lesser classes with lower cultural capital. Recently, sociologists have been drawing on Bourdieu to examine the ways cosmopolitanism is related to stratification at a global scale (Igarashi & Saito, 2014). We find both distinctions through cultural capital and its relation to global stratification to be highly useful in understanding why upper-middle and upper classes in Latin America seem to be pursuing high status forms of television and film from the U.S. and Europe, while most Latin Americans, as noted in Chap. 3, are still relatively content with nationally produced television.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_7

203

204 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Here we discuss what some scholars have defined as the cosmopolitan disposition (Woodward et al., 2008; Igarashi & Saito, 2014; Vertovec & Cohen, 2000; Hannerz, 1990; Beck, 2006) and the different types of cosmopolitanism such as the concepts of multiple mobilities, cultural omnivores, aesthetic cosmopolitanism, peripheral cosmopolitanism, as well as outline how cosmopolitanism operates in Latin America. Using TGI survey data from 2004 to 2014 in Latin America, this chapter empirically analyzes elite preferences and cosmopolitan dispositions like being interested in other cultures and countries, love for travel, enjoying foreign foods, and interest in international events with preference for U.S. and European media and programming. The theories we lay out here suggest cosmopolitans in Latin America will tend to be less interested in local or national programming and will favor media from the United States and Europe. And consequently, non-cosmopolitans will have a stronger preference for local media than for any other programming. However, we discovered that cosmopolitans often function as cultural omnivores who like television from all sources researcher by TGI Latina, national, regional, U.S. and European, almost equally well.

Distinction In Chap. 4, we argued that upper-middle and elite classes are often drawn to foreign culture, both by processes of historical class formation and by contemporary accumulation of cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1984, 1986). Many upper-middle and elite class members come from a system of colonial and post-colonial education and socialization that oriented them to the cultures of the U.S. and Europe (Dos Santos, 1973; see Chap. 4 for more details). Periods of economic expansion, such as the 1950s–1960s or the Latin American economic growth from the late 1990s through mid-­2010s tended to expand the middle, upper-middle, and even to some degree, elite classes, as education and economic jobs opportunities grew, as more people worked in international settings, traveled, and learned other languages (See Chap. 5 for details). Bourdieu’s concepts (1984) of cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals lay out a widely used theoretical structure for examining the economic or social advantages and gains that can be perceived to be accessible through the use of foreign cultural production, such as foreign television, as well as the necessary social and economic conditions to access and enjoy such programming. Cultural capital essentially reflects a person’s

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

205

knowledge of things that society considers important, that help one advance in society, and that help distinguish one person from another in social and cultural terms. It can be broad, like knowing a great deal about the history of nations and the world, or specific to fields, like knowing about the fine arts or mechanical engineering (Bourdieu, 1986). Cultural capital is primarily learned from parents and education. Early cultural capital studies observed, “how the success of children in school depended on the level of education of their parents,” related in part to educated parents’ “intimate familiarity with highbrow culture” (Prieur & Savage, 2013, p. 247). It can also be developed from peers and work (Bourdieu, 1984), and increasingly, from the media themselves. Lindell and Danielsson argue that “media may allow one to cultivate cosmopolitan capital, defined here as a distinct form of embodied cultural capital” (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017, p. 51). Bourdieu indicates there is a sort of competition for status during the consumption of legitimate cultural products as well as for refined cultural practices (1984). He argues that there is a visible difference in preference for certain types of music, food, sports, politics, literature, and even hairstyle among different classes. According to Bourdieu’s Distinction (1984), those preferences are based on cultural capital, a set of knowledge, dispositions, and preferences, acquired first from our families (do they listen to classical or pop music?), then from peers (what knowledge, cultural preferences, and cultural consumption do we learn from our friends?), school (which concentrates on teaching us the cultural capital our societies want us to know, or which is required to get ahead in the current economy), jobs, work colleagues, and so on. In that way, through taste and cultural capital, which guides their cultural consumption choices, individuals confirm their belonging to upper socioeconomic classes, and those classes as a whole gain tools to reinforce their domination of society (Prieur & Savage, 2013), through prestige, access to better work, access to key positions of decision-making, and dominance in the economy. However, cultural capital is not fixed, but it evolves in relationship with the fields it is related to (Prieur & Savage, 2013), such as education, cultural consumption, and the valuation of different cultural areas, such as the high arts, popular culture, folk culture, and so on. Some cultural sociology research tries to tie it in an ongoing way to familiarity with and preference for the elite arts, such as ballet, opera, and classical music, but a key point for the argument of this chapter is that what is considered desired cultural capital evolves over time (Prieur & Savage, 2013):

206 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

All Bourdieu’s concepts were relational. The concept of cultural capital needs to be placed in the wider context of Bourdieu’s field analysis in which the very positioning of cultural tastes and propensities is always contested. Bourdieu and co-workers (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992; Bourdieu 1996) insisted on that a capital is always linked to a field, which is always in motion. (2013, pp. 249–250)

A recent analysis notes that the fields that define cultural capital used to be seen in national terms but are being globalized (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017). In fact, the same authors argue that cosmopolitanism can be seen as a form of capital: “When analysed as a form of capital, cosmopolitanism becomes set of socially recognised resources and skills used to navigate in a globalising world, embodied and reproduced in privileged groups in society” (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017, p. 52). A key related debate for us is whether cultural capital is now more about the distinction offered for a preference for elite culture, or whether elite cultural capital is itself being redefined in terms being more about omnivorous consumption of culture across the old distinctions of high, mass or pop, and folk culture (Martin-Barbero, 1987; Peterson, 1992). Martin-Barbero and Canclini both argued that part of the dynamic that constitutes Latin American hybridity is not only about the interaction between local and foreign cultures, but also about the interaction between high, mass, and folk cultures, in the cultural industries and also in the lives of Latin Americans as participants in culture (Canclini, 1995). Scholars outside Latin America have also begun to argue that what provides distinction to upper-middle and elite classes, those with education, travel, family experience with a range of cultures, and so on is no longer whether they like opera, but whether they understand and enjoy a broad range of cultures, from high to low (Friedman, 2012; Peterson, 2005), and as we will argue, from local to national to global. Bourdieu (1984) referred to this as the ongoing transformation of the social (and cultural) space. Better educated people still tend to like elite cultural arts, but research shows that they increasingly like many forms of culture, which some have argued is a shift from cultural distinction closely related to fine arts to distinction as the ability to like a wide range of cultural arts and products, to being cultural omnivores (Peterson, 1992; Peterson & Kern, 1996), which we will discuss below. As we developed the concept in Chap. 4, cultural capital in terms of knowledge of other countries is required both to understand and to enjoy

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

207

the culture provided by foreign television programming. To understand a series about Danish social welfare systems (Jacobsen et al., 2020) or lesbian culture as reflected in The L Word, which Brazilian participants once discussed knowledgeably in a binational U.S.-Brazilian communications seminar attended by Straubhaar, a viewer needs to know enough about those cultures and those issues to understand what is going on in the dramas. That is both conceptually and empirically connected with the educational achievement of either the participant of the study or his/her parents, who also pass on cultural capital (Wilson, 2002; Bourdieu, 1984; Sullivan, 2001). Education, as related to class, is not always the best predictor of cultural preferences and consumption; age, gender, and ethnicity were found to have strong roles as well (Prieur & Savage, 2013). As we will see below, cosmopolitan attitudes, in addition to capital, per se, also have a strong role in predicting a certain kind of broad-ranging, omnivorous cultural consumption. However, Chap. 4 showed how education was empirically connected to a preference for U.S. film and television. In 2004, as indicated in Fig. 4.4 in Chap. 4, 54% of Latin Americans with a higher educational achievement responded that they were interested or very interested in U.S. programs, while 41% of those with a lower educational achievement indicated such interest (the average was 48%). This pattern held up in every country, when examined individually. Cultural capital is also a predictor of interest in European programs and films. As with the U.S. programs and films, Fig. 4.5 in Chap. 4 showed that from 2004 through 2014, Latin Americans with higher educational achievement were significantly more interested in European foreign television programming, while those with lower educational achievement showed significantly less interest in this TV programming origin.

Cosmopolitanism A useful concept to come out of the literature of globalization is cosmopolitanism, which has been defined differently by various scholars. Hannerz (1990) defines it as a perspective of state of mind. Szerszynski and Urry (2002, 2006) identify it as reflecting consumers of cultural products from different places. Hall (2002) defines it as competence in different cultural languages or being knowledgeable about different tastes (Woodward et al., 2008). According to them, there are potentially three levels of cosmopolitanism, the macro, the political, and the cultural. At the macro

208 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

level, “cosmopolitanism refers to an ambition or project of supra-national state building” (Woodward et  al., 2008, p.  208). At the political level, cosmopolitanism is a position that embraces diversity, multiplicity, and hybridity. Beck (2006) explains that cosmopolitanism is a multidimensional process that involves the creation of multiple loyalties and the spread of different transnational lifestyles, among others, of which Netflix’s global programming would be a prime contemporary example. He indicates that interdependence between people in various metropolis of the world intensifies by their production and consumption. In the same vein, Szerszynski and Urry (2002) claim cosmopolitanism is a cultural condition that involves knowledge of places, people, and culture distant from the people under consideration. They identified six predispositions and practices of cosmopolitan people, which involve (1) extensive mobility, (2) the capacity to consume many places and environments, (3) curiosity about many places, peoples, and cultures, (4) willingness to take risks in encountering the “other,” (5) skills to be able to interpret images of others, and (6) openness to other peoples and cultures (Szerszynski & Urry, 2006). At the cultural level, “cosmopolitanism is defined by an openness to other cultures, values and experiences. Such a cultural outlook is identified as underpinned by new types of mobilities of capital, people and things; elaborated, flexible and heterogeneous outlooks and modes of corporeal engagement grounded in cultural-symbolic competencies founded in a type of ‘code-switching’ capacity” (Woodward et al., 2008, p. 209). Another approach to cosmopolitanism distinguishes between an idealistic approach to cosmopolitanism, in which people are genuinely concerned about other countries, seek more information about them, what to help with crises, and so on. In contrast, a more consumerist approach to cosmopolitanism focuses on consuming foreign goods and food, as well as traveling abroad for personal pleasure (Woodward et al., 2008). Cosmopolitanism and Globalization Woodward et al. join the debate on whether cosmopolitanism is related to issues of globalization. They claim historical and empirical research indicates there is no proof that globalization is “a necessary and sufficient condition for the emergence of cosmopolitanism” (p.  210). For them, international travel is not a precondition in order to possess cosmopolitan attitudes and values. They agree with Szerszynski and Urry (2002, 2006)

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

209

that cosmopolitanism is more common in people who engage imaginatively with other people, places, and events outside their local setting. This imaginative engagement can come from exposure to foreign television programming, films, or news. They believe it is through representations of the world that cosmopolitan values surface. In this argument, actual physical travel or contact with foreign people is not required to become cosmopolitan. However, the opportunities to acquire such cultural practices are likely connected to existing wealth and education, since those enable people to acquire the knowledge and dispositions noted above. For example, with the arrival of the streaming platform Netflix to Latin America in 2011, this new form of access to international television and film in the region has been restricted to a minority of the population. For instance, in Mexico in 2017, only 50% of households had access to the Internet. The average percentage of households with Internet access in Latin America is 71.7% (Islas, 2018). Households with broadband, which is essentially required for use of Netflix, are even more restricted (ITU, 2016). Cosmopolitanism and Bourdieu Woodward et al. use Bourdieu’s concept of habitus to explain the cosmopolitan disposition. If we follow the idea that people who adhere to cosmopolitan values and attitudes need to be fluent in and knowledgeable of different cultures and tastes, then that is easily comparable to the idea of dispositions. Bourdieu (1984) explains the habitus as a shared set of dispositions, principles that generate and organize practices. Dispositions are also understood as tendencies, propensities, or inclinations, either among groups or within an individual. Woodward et al. indicate that it is important to understand the concept of disposition, as it will help us understand how cosmopolitanism develops on an individual level: The most important aspect of a disposition is its capacity to enable agents to view events, objects and things in culturally unique but nevertheless structurally grounded ways, bringing to bear a particular set of cultural understandings on the world. Thus, it is a disposition which can allow some agents to think, feel and act in ways that might be called ‘cosmopolitan.’ (p. 211)

In the same vein, Igarashi and Saito (2014) using a Bourdieusian approach linking education to the cosmopolitan disposition claim that the

210 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

education system serves to legitimate cosmopolitanism as a desirable disposition at the global level. In that sense, education systems contribute to institutionalize cosmopolitanism as a cultural capital, to which access is structurally unequal. Additionally, Vertovec and Cohen (2000) indicate that social practices are also part of the cosmopolitan disposition, in addition to values and attitudes. Thus, the cosmopolitan can be acted and performed. Hannerz (1990) likewise refers to the cultural skills necessary to operate around different systems of meaning. This is a particularly crucial aspect to us, since we see a certain repertoire of knowledge as likely to let people engage with the globalized cultural offerings that a distribution service like Netflix has. It is also interesting to think that Netflix viewers who engage with the more globalized parts of Netflix’s catalog may also become more cosmopolitan in the process. Poster (2011) argues: If the figure of the cosmopolitan suggests an upper or middle class liberal persona, then the recent articulations of global culture are well beyond those relatively restricted limits, extending the imagined community of participants quite broadly across the planet and throughout all social strata. (2008, p. 699)

Whether people can become more cosmopolitan by consuming media without the opportunities for education, travel, learning other languages, and meeting people from other cultures face to face that are often associated with the idea of cosmopolitanism is an interesting question. As we shall see below, what our data suggest is that people self-select to engage with more international content on television in part on the basis of traditional predictors like education and language exposure, but also on the basis of cosmopolitan attitudes, per se, which perhaps can be acquired through multiple paths. Skrbis et  al. (2004) suggest there are individuals who are carriers of cosmopolitanism and have particular sets of attitudes, values, behaviors, and practices that differentiate them from the rest (Woodward et  al., 2008). They developed a cosmopolitan scale to explore how cosmopolitanism is identified in everyday life in terms of beliefs and feelings. After conducting a survey in Australia, the authors found that there are distinctive domains for the expression of cosmopolitan attitudes. “These domains represent two central facets of cosmopolitanism as it can be quantitatively measured: first, the increased flow of cultural goods and an openness to cultural difference and, second, the commitment to cultural diversity and

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

211

the acknowledgement of human rights” (p.  222). They found that the most positive feelings toward the global are those in the area of consumption, choice, and cultural openness. The authors also found different levels of cosmopolitanism defined by the level and form of engagement. The authors agree that cosmopolitanism develops from the expression of universal sentiments, which most people have access to, but they are influenced and mediated by the particulars of each individual, such as sociocultural location, their position in the discourses around the nation. Multiple Mobilities Another important contribution to the literature on cosmopolitanism comes from Szerszynski and Urry (2006). The two are concerned with the role of multiple mobilities on how the world is seen and lived. For them, a cosmopolitan individual has to be a sort of connoisseur of places, people, and cultures. They argue one of the most significant implications of the cosmopolitan condition is the way an increased number of people are now inhabiting the world at a distance. Szerszynski and Urry indicate there are three types of travel related to the cosmopolitan condition. First is the physical, bodily travel, easily understandable as the act of physically visiting other geographical regions; second is the imaginative travel, the ability to be transported via images of people and places often found in media; and third is virtual travel, the ability of being in a different space through technology, as in video calls. The authors claim that because travel in these three modalities has increased since the 1950s, the cosmopolitan condition emerged. They also place special emphasis on the imaginative travel that television allows: “Television has transformed all our ‘little worlds’ without the need to move corporeally outside one’s home” (p. 117). That argues for how a deliberately globalized service like Netflix might accelerate the cosmopolitan project. Being aware of other people and places, Szerszynski and Urry argue, encourages the development of a notion of “panhumanity,” which is the combination of a universal notion of human rights and cosmopolitan awareness. Furthermore, the increase in physical, imaginative, and virtual travel, according to the authors, transformed the conditions of visuality– the capacity to imagine how other places look like. Szerszynski and Urry argue “transformation of visual channels through their shift to the media and to communications technology was actually helping to create the cultural conditions for cosmopolitan citizenship” (p. 119). The authors make

212 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

comparisons with the work of Benedict Anderson (2006), in which he argues the cultural industry had to make a conscious effort to produce one imagination of the nation, that would make people living far away to feel connected to the same concept of the nation-state. In that sense, Szerszynski and Urry conceive that if media can construct an imaginary of a global nation, people will eventually think of themselves as global citizens. Additionally, the authors claim the language of cosmopolitanism is a language of mobility. Being able to be mobile produces an aptitude to understand aesthetic judgment, which stimulates global tourism and the notions of cosmopolitanism.

Cultural Omnivores Another term to arise out of the literature concerning consumption, cosmopolitanism, and distinction is that of the cultural omnivore. The term was first coined by Richard Peterson (Peterson & Simkus, 1992; Peterson, 2005). According to Maguire (2015), cultural omnivores are people who have diverse consumption tastes which range from elite to popular, and they differ from “univores,” or people who only consume either highbrow, middlebrow, or lowbrow cultural products. Although Maguire indicates cultural omnivores are not necessarily only those with high socioeconomic status, cultural omnivores are usually among this demographic. In this day and age, it is hard to find cultural snobs, or people who only consume highbrow cultural items, although research indicates that it is more common in some countries than others (Prieur & Savage, 2013). The concept of the cultural omnivore guides sociologists and cultural researchers to reconsider the relationship between class, taste, and cultural capital. Maguire also notes that methodological research on the subject relies heavily on survey data to account for volume and composition of cultural products. “The research broadly confirms that individuals with higher levels of education and income, and in higher-status social positions, are more likely to have a greater diversity and volume of tastes than others. Omnivorous tastes are also more common in urban and younger consumers” (p. 214). Qualitative research on the matter additionally indicates, the omnivore consumer discriminates toward taste, limiting their openness to legitimate culture (Warde et al., 2008). Moreover, Maguire indicates there is more to learn about cultural omnivores and their rise as a dominant group that defines and establishes what is considered good

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

213

taste. She indicates that the factors that led to this new consumer group include “the expansion of higher education, the commercialization of highbrow cultural forms, and the aestheticization of everyday life, which have increased the accessibility of elite culture; and globalization, liberalism, and identity politics, which have increased the accessibility and legitimacy of diverse cultural forms and practices” (p. 215). Maguire warns that how omnivores’ tastes and other factors are affecting shifting patterns of taste in other non-Western cultures is understudied. “Also under examined are the mechanisms involved in constructing, legitimating, and circulating new definitions and repertoires of good taste, and new, socially esteemed mentalities about taste and consumption” (p. 215). These mechanisms, Maguire indicates, involve media and lifestyles that target high-status consumers and cultural intermediaries. Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime, and other global streaming television services are emerging as the newest such mechanism. Maguire additionally cautions about the optimistic views surrounding cultural omnivores and the democratization of culture and acceptance of difference and openness toward other cultures. However, taste and culture remain important instruments for social stratification: “If knowledge of and participation in highbrow culture are no longer exclusive markers of distinction, then omnivorousness—the connoisseurship of seemingly anything—offers a means of demonstrating distinction without appearing to be antidemocratic, of being elite but not (appearing to be) elitist” (p. 215). Similarly, Lindell and Danielsson argue that cosmopolitanism, per se, is becoming another form of cultural capital that elites use to distinguish themselves from others and to maintain power in social spaces (2017).

Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism Cicchelli et  al. (2016) argue there are major differences among cosmopolitans and cultural omnivores. More in line with the argument of this paper, Cicchelli et al. indicate “cosmopolitanism serves strategically—even unconsciously—as a social marker of status and thus as a barrier between groups involved in power relations or struggle” (p. 58). Even though the proponents of the cultural omnivore indicate it is a component of the cosmopolitan disposition, Cicchelli et al. claim they have different functions: “If the cosmopolitan virtues of openness do not prevent omnivores to accumulate cultural capital associated with mechanisms of distinction, both figures would not overlap” (p.  59). Therefore, they propose the

214 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

notion of aesthetic cosmopolitanism to differentiate from the elitist characteristic of the cultural omnivore and consider the place of minorities and their tastes. The authors define aesthetic cosmopolitanism as “a strong attraction and curiosity with respect to cultural practices and exotic products from elsewhere, having or not having localized references—authentic or reinvented ones, and […] by its hybridization with national cultural forms or with localized individual appropriations” (p. 60). They also add another dimension, which involves wanting to know and understand the Other in order to understand oneself. Cicchelli et al. have theorized five characteristics of the aesthetic cosmopolitan, which include (1) comparing national and foreign cultural products and recognizing differences; (2) shaping and reshaping aesthetic criteria without attaching hierarchical value; (3) creating judgments and hierarchies regarding the quality of national and foreign cultural products; (4) developing competencies to manipulate different aesthetic codes; and (5) preferring other cultures because they are Other. Of these five characteristics, number one, recognizing the differences between national and foreign cultural products, number three, creating judgments about their qualities, and number five, coming to prefer the foreign cultural products of the other, are very relevant to our investigation of why some Latin Americans come to prefer foreign television. Cicchelli et al. further indicate these conditions are not necessarily linear and conceive them as a set of capabilities: “reading, understanding, deciphering cultural codes, reshaping taste and distaste, and bearing the risk of novelty. All those skills may lead to the facilitation of living in a global world” (p.  61). However, the extent to which an individual can acquire all the capabilities depends on previous cultural and social experiences, which further contribute to social stratification.

Peripheral Cosmopolitanism Cicchelli et  al. additionally caution about the complexities involved in transnational and comparative studies of cosmopolitanism in non-Western realities. They agree cosmopolitanism is in itself already ethnocentric and the theoretical foundation remains culturally situated in the global West. “Cultural globalization forces us to wonder if those frameworks can also catch on with non-Western and southern realities, where demographic trends, labor market transformations, historical trajectories (post-­colonial), education and gender issues, strong regional disparities, political

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

215

institutions are very different” (p. 64). In order for their concept of aesthetic cosmopolitanism to consider non-Western local ways of life, the idea of peripheral cosmopolitanism (Prysthon, 2001) has to be evoked. Prysthon (2001) indicates a new concept of cosmopolitanism has to be understood from the post-colonial and Third World context of Latin America. “Postmodern cosmopolitanism has to be constituted as a peripheral cosmopolitanism, due to problems of representation and because of the inherent cosmopolitan experience lived in most of the peripheral regions” (p. 35). In that sense, Cicchelli et al. indicate precautions must be taken when applying a European or Western framework to other regions with different historical-cultural conditions: “Attempts at applying the theoretical, conceptual, and empirical formulae of research in non-­ Western and Southern societies accentuate the mismatch between a framework that was envisioned in Western and Northern societies and is now enforced in another context” (p. 64).

Cosmopolitans and Omnivores in Latin America Most relevant to the focus of this chapter is the issue of cosmopolitans and omnivores in Latin America. Danielle Hedegard (2015) studies the implications of the presence of global culture within elite consumers. She indicates global culture represents an important component of high-status taste around the world. More importantly, consumption of global culture or international products “have become elite status symbols in semi-­ peripheral societies, where they are deployed to demonstrate cosmopolitanism” (p.  53). In the context of Latin America, where societies are highly stratified by socioeconomic status, cosmopolitan dispositions, practices, and consumption have to be understood differently from the European or North American context. Hedegard attempts to explain how elite valorizations of global culture work in the context of Brazil, and how and why certain international cultural objects are framed as high culture. She indicates Brazil has a long history of its own cultural practices and products, as we have noted in Chap. 3. Indeed, the emergence of genres like bossa nova, samba, tropicália, among others, makes Brazil a culturally rich country. Nonetheless, its position in the semi-periphery (Wallerstein, 1976), or as a middle-income developing country (Bank, 2016), implies that elite culture will inevitably tend to form around international culture and products. This ties into one of the original aspects of dependency theory in Latin America, that elite

216 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

desires to consume foreign culture and products at the same levels as people in the US or Europe would lead to a dualistic development in which they drew national resources to themselves (and away from those in poorer classes) to permit that, thereby worsening income inequality (Dos Santos, 1973). Hedegard asks what role foreign culture plays in elite tastes in Brazil and how national or local culture fit among elites. She analyzes articles using content analysis and interpretative frames, looking at Brazil’s most popular highbrow publications, the magazine BRAVO! and the cultural section of the national newspaper O Globo. The study delves into how elitist cultural outlets construct high culture and elite tastes through the use of cosmopolitan and local Brazilian cultural objects. Her findings indicate that elite taste culture in Brazil integrates both popular and highbrow culture from around the world (but overwhelmingly from Europe and the United States) with Brazilian culture. “To become valorized as elite culture, non-Brazilian objects must retain their transnational connections and non-Brazilian meanings while simultaneously becoming integrated into Brazilian lifestyles. Non-Brazilian objects are deployed to demonstrate transnational continuity between lifestyles in Brazil and the US and Western Europe” (p. 53). Hedegard argues the use of symbols of European and American culture and brands, such as Apple, Starbucks, and so on, are deployed to indicate the connection of local elites, who valorize the same lifestyle, culture, and practices of the consumers of the “First World,” as noted above with the idea of dualistic development by local elites (Dos Santos, 1973). Elite or highbrow taste is traditionally those of high-class European culture and genres such as opera, ballet, theater, classical music, and classical literature. Yet, the concept of cultural omnivores, those who have enough cultural capital to enjoy highbrow culture and popular culture such as jazz, rap, rock, and so on, has emerged as consumption patterns shift around the world. In that regard, Hedegard notes omnivore tastes are deployed to maintain status distinctions in two different ways: First, elite culture uses within genre distinctions—i.e. preference for rare or esoteric versions of cultural objects less accessible to broader society. For example, elite cuisine now uses the concepts of authenticity, exoticism, historically connectedness, and place-specificity to differentiate elite versions of common foods such as the hamburger from popular versions (Johnston & Baumann, 2007). Elite rap in the U.S. is similarly framed as place based

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

217

(Cheyne & Binder, 2010). High cultural capital actors choose intellectual or ambiguous comedy over more straightforward varieties (Friedman, 2011). The second mechanism is elite use of nuanced styles of appreciation and modes of consumption (Holt, 1998). Hanquinet, Roose, and Savage (2014) find that the highbrow disposition toward the formal properties of art (Bourdieu, 1984) may have given way appreciation of art for its social critique and postmodern qualities. However, Daenekindt and Roose (2014) find that highly educated actors prefer to experience art for its formal properties rather than functional properties or its connection to social issues and postmodern concerns. High cultural capital actors can also prefer active physical contact and experiences rather than passive viewing. (Hedegard, 2015, p. 53)

Furthermore, Hedegard is concerned with how little work has been done regarding cultural capital and cultural omnivores outside the United States and Europe. Consequently, she studies Brazilian elite culture, and again warns about how in highly stratified societies the situation changes. The context, she argues, is different because in the United States lower and lower-middle classes have more easy access to social mobility through education, rising incomes, and credit loans that allow them to rise socially and consume products aimed at higher classes. Brazil, however, like most Latin American countries has always experienced high levels of economic inequality. She indicates credit loans are not as widespread, therefore non-­ elites have a harder time participating in and obtaining pleasure from products and elite culture. “This situation may mean that maintaining elite taste boundaries requires less exclusionary work that it does in the United States, where a large middle class can acquire the cultural objects and styles of the upper class” (p. 54). Hedegard initiates her discussion looking at how even within national cultural products there are taste distinctions among upper and lower classes. For instance, in national music bossa nova, samba, and chorinho are preferred by Brazilian elites, while, funk, rap, and pagode are preferred by the general population. “This work predicts elite taste will reflect class, race, and region-based distinctions within Brazil, and that elite taste will reject nationalized cultural practices in favor of euro-derived culture” (p. 55). In that sense, Hedegard indicates how previous work has established that upper-middle classes in Brazil utilize visits to Disney World and shopping trips to Miami to reinforce status, or how some in this socioeconomic class follow Buddhism to assert their cosmopolitan cultural capital.

218 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

The research Hedegard conducted on two major elite publications in Brazil found that there is higher coverage for non-Brazilian cultural news, than for Brazilian produced culture. From that, over 80% of the non-­ Brazilian coverage was focused on European and American cultural news, while coverage for other Latin American cultural news only accounted for little over 7%. Thus, Hedegard claims the concept of the cosmopolitan omnivore does not carry the same connotations in the Latin American context as in the European: “Transnational taste is not indiscriminate, broad, or embracing of difference. It establishes connections (i.e. symbolic or social) between actors or groups in distinct societies that have meaning due to similarity over difference among an ‘imagined community’” (p. 56). Her findings indicate how the Brazilian press covers and frames the issue of cosmopolitanism, giving preference to stories and articles originating in the United States or Europe or about artists, products, or art that originates in the United States or Europe. The Brazilian elite press legitimizes transnational culture as an elite taste. Articles published on BRAVO! demand that the reader be familiar with European or American culture, since they fail to provide context. This magazine in particular, celebrates a wealthy, educated, and white lifestyle of the well-off Southern part of the country. The articles assumed that the reader had a high level of education and was accustomed to travel outside of Brazil, two things that are highly restricted to upper-middle and upper classes in Brazil. “Almost all articles required prior knowledge of U.S. culture. This rendered even articles dedicated to widely accessible objects—like Hollywood films—opaque to all but well-educated readers” (p.  60). In theoretical terms, this means that readers had to have fairly extensive cultural capital about the U.S. We find that the same conditions seem to apply to a noted preference for television and film from the U.S. Hedegard’s research suggests Brazilian elite culture places high value on both popular and high culture coming from the United States and Europe, while it only considers a subset of Brazilian culture as elite. Cultural products coming from the rest of Latin American, Asia, and Africa are mostly ignored or not regarded as having high cultural value. The articles discussed in Hedegard’s work attempt to equate Brazilian elites with their counterparts in the United States and Europe, separating them from the rest of Brazilians who do not have access to foreign culture, thus functioning as a tool of social distinction. “In the case of elite valorization of popular global culture, objects must retain their foreign meaning and be integrated into local lifestyles in order to give off clear signals of

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

219

status through transnational connection” (p. 62). In that way, being able to access, consume, and understand foreign culture is regarded as “international capital” or “cosmopolitan capital,” since it has similar functions as cultural capital. Therefore, omnivore consumption in Brazil is not linked to openness to other cultures, or appreciation of other lifestyles, because the value placed on European and American culture does not exist outside Brazilian culture, which already celebrates these lifestyles or finds them aspirational. “Instead, it relied on existing cultural knowledge that ‘resonated’ with a cultural code that valorized a wealthy, white lifestyle within Brazil (O’Dougherty, 2002; Sheriff, 2001) and emphasized a shared cultural community that aligned elite Brazilians with U.S. and European cultural consumers” (p.  62). Hence, knowledge of and consumption of transnational cultural products is deployed as a form of cultural capital among elites in Brazil. The reasoning behind this logic perhaps lies on the assumption of the world-systems theory (Wallerstein, 1974) in which core nations influence and control peripheral nations. If elites can associate their values and attitudes with those of the core nations, then they also reinforce their sociocultural status with that of the nations they relate to.

Cosmopolitanism and Globalized Media Preferences While Bourdieu offered a useful framework in understanding audience media preferences that pursue cultural distinction related to cultural capital, cosmopolitanism also provides another useful perspective in examining audience behaviors according to one’s socialization. Simply put, cosmopolitanism considers people’s relationship toward cultural Others where cognitions, practices, and affinities are manifested in favor of cultural diversity beyond one’s locality and community (Türken & Rudmin, 2013). Cosmopolitans, in other words, express an orientation, a commitment, or an attachment to a global culture where attitudes and interests transcend those of their current countries (Hannerz, 2006). Several interconnected spheres embody the cosmopolitan spirit (e.g., moral, political, and cultural orientations; see Etinson, 2010), but cultural openness stands as the dominant domain in cosmopolitanism (Etinson, 2010; Riefler & Diamantopoulos, 2009; Türken & Rudmin, 2013). In this regard, learning, interests, and/or the willingness to explore various nations and cultures are key in understanding cosmopolitanism. Interest in consuming things from other cultures is sometimes referred to as banal cosmopolitanism (Igarashi & Saito, 2014), since it is more material, less about ideas.

220 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

In a media environment that is globalized in part due to the import of cultural products like television programs and films produced in countries other than one’s own, people can achieve a sense of banal cosmopolitanism where the exposure to or consumption of mediated cultures makes-up for the lack of economic, cultural, linguistic, or social resources in developing a meaningful or thick globalized identity (Igarashi & Saito, 2014). That is, for people who are presented with limited opportunities to travel abroad and/or reside in a country, city, or neighborhood with little ethno-­ cultural heterogeneity, they may depend on the affordability of visual media to experience narratives that allow them to indulge with cultural Others throughout their everyday life.

Cosmopolitanism as Branding for Netflix and Others In laying out his idea of pop cosmopolitanism, Jenkins (2006) argues that we have traditionally put the two ideas together, in effect defining cosmopolitans as those who have “discriminating tastes for classical or high culture” (p. 869). Global convergence is giving rise to a new pop cosmopolitanism. Cosmopolitans embrace cultural difference, seeking to escape the gravitational pull of their local communities in order to enter a broader sphere of cultural experience. The first cosmopolitans thought beyond the borders of their village; the modern cosmopolitans think globally. We tend to apply the term to those who develop a taste for international food, dance, music, art, or literature—in short, those who have achieved distinction through their discriminating tastes for classical or high culture. (Jenkins, 2006, p. 869)

Similarly, Elkins (2019) argues that with increasing global connections and rising expressions of nationalism, “cosmopolitanism becomes shorthand for a progressive, worldly appreciation of multiculturalism” (Elkins, 2019, p. 379). Considering Hannerz (1990) arguments about cosmopolitanism not making discriminatory distinctions between certain elements of foreign cultures to accept only some and refuse others, but accepting other cultures as a “package deal,” Elkins indicates cosmopolitanism offers an escape from parochialism and isolationism considering a global perspective and a recognition of different points of view. In that sense, global digital platforms such as Netflix and Spotify claim they can “foster a cosmopolitan orientation toward the world by exposing audiences to works

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

221

of art by people from different places and by revealing how common taste binds people regardless of background” (Elkins, 2019, p. 379). Jenkins (2006) discusses “pop cosmopolitanism” as a way that popular culture from elsewhere might bring audiences a recognition of the world beyond their own national cultures and ideas. This promotion strategy of a sort of pop cosmopolitanism deployed by Netflix can work to validate their position as corporations of global reach that follow a liberal and progressive project, in other words, Netflix might use a combination of globalization and cosmopolitanism as a market strategy to identify itself as a political and ethical corporation (Elkins, 2019).

Cosmopolitanism and Audience Preferences for U.S. and European Television and Film Even though media engagement may help in developing a sense of cosmopolitanism, it is important to note that this alone does not provide the cultural competence for surviving and interacting with external or foreign cultures (Hannerz, 2006). Because of this limitation and our focus on media preferences, we treat cosmopolitanism as primarily a cultural disposition, and link it to the preference for consumption of foreign film and television. In our study with TGI survey data, four TGI items particularly tapped into cosmopolitanism as cultural openness—its dominant form (Etinson, 2010; Riefler & Diamantopoulos, 2009; Türken & Rudmin, 2013). Those who agreed with the following questionnaire items: (1) I am interested in other cultures and countries; (2) I like to travel and learn about exotic places; (3) I enjoy eating foreign foods; and (4) I am interested in international events. Latin Americans who strongly agreed or agreed to all four opinions and attitudes were considered cosmopolitans, while non-­ cosmopolitans were those who either strongly disagreed or disagreed with the same items. Cosmopolitans, given their proximity to a larger globalized culture, are expected to consume foreign products (Riefler & Diamantopoulous, 2009). If this is the case, these patterns are expected to be replicated among Latin American cosmopolitans, with those culturally open demonstrating media preferences for non-domestic television programming and films at higher rates than those not identifying as cosmopolitanism. The

222 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

driving question then is summarized as follows: do cosmopolitanism dispositions drive media preferences from various countries among Latin Americans? Among those who can be characterized as cosmopolitan (on the items above), there was an interesting general decline in preferences for television programs over a ten-year span regardless of the origin of the programs (national, regional, U.S., and European). Such a pattern may indicate that cosmopolitan Latin Americans have increased leisure and cultural options beyond television, higher in 2014 than in 2004. This is a historical pattern that Straubhaar found in his early studies of television audiences in Brazil (1981). However, the high percentage of interest across media preferences (above 90% in 2004 and still above 80% in 2014) suggests an ongoing linkage between the internalization of cosmopolitanism among Latin Americans and media consumption. In theory, Latin American cosmopolitans should be more interested in U.S. or European television than in national or regional programming, since they might demonstrate a connection to a larger global culture, rather than a more culturally or geographically circumscribed culture, historically linked to Latin America commonalities. In fact, the omnivorous television interests of Latin America cosmopolitans showed they were interested fairly equally in television and film from all sources, which may itself be an indication of a certain kind of cosmopolitanism: interest in all cultures. When we created an index of the four questionnaire items related to cosmopolitanism and related it to preferences for national, regional, US or European television and film, what we found was a striking pattern of cultural omnivorousness. In 2004, those who showed cosmopolitan attitudes liked television and film from all of those sources almost equally well; they were omnivores, as reflected in Fig. 7.1. If anything, both in 2004 and in 2014, they liked everything, but liked non-national material slightly better, as indicated in the left-hand set of bars that shows the average of the eight countries that were in the survey. However, the difference is slight and not significant statistically. What is strikingly significant is how much they liked everything almost equally, with minor variations between 2004 and 2014, and between countries. On the other hand, the media preferences of Latin American non-­ cosmopolitans were generally more varied between national, regional, U.S., and European programs. As expected, from discussions in Chap. 3 of this volume, as part of the larger culture that tends to prefer national

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

223

Fig. 7.1  Interest in TV programs from different origins among cosmopolitans in various Latin American countries

culture, probably from a sense of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991), Latin American non-cosmopolitans generally preferred domestic media more than those from other countries. This affinity for television programming and films from one’s own country was again more evident in 2004 than 2014. So the increased choice brought in by multichannel television for increasing numbers of people by 2007–2011 may have had some impact (see Chap. 5 for more detail). Unlike the similarity between cosmopolitans across countries in their media preferences for programs from varied origins, there were substantial differences between countries, and notable change within countries over the ten years. For example, non-­cosmopolitan Brazilians and Mexicans were more interested in programming from most regions than other non-cosmopolitan audiences in 2004, but audiences in Argentina, Chile, and Peru became more like them in 2014, as reflected in the second part of Fig.  7.2. In contrast, interest in programming of all origins dropped even further in Venezuela from 2004 to 2014, a trend analyzed further in Chap. 3.

224 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Fig. 7.2  Interest in TV programs from different origins among non-­ cosmopolitans in various Latin American countries

The media preferences of Latin American non-cosmopolitans across the sampled decade partially reflect Straubhaar’s (1991, 2007) cultural proximity hypothesis, which Chap. 3 explains more in detail. To recap, while cosmopolitans are more likely to consume foreign products (Riefler & Diamantopoulous, 2009)—in this case television and film, Latin Americans who are less culturally open to foreign cultures tend to prefer television programming and films belonging to their own countries. On the other hand, Latin American cosmopolitans had an avid interest in media originating from Europe or the United States, rather than (non) domestic Latin American media. While the basic premise of cultural proximity is that people tend to gravitate toward media that resembles their own, that proposition holds for Latin American non-cosmopolitans who remain grounded to the familiarity of their own countries’ cultures and less interested in the foreign cultures. In contrast, television interest for Latin American cosmopolitans lies in cultural heterogeneity, in the diverse geo-cultural source of the programs (Etinson, 2010; Riefler & Diamantopoulos, 2009; Sinclair & Straubhaar,

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

225

2013; Türken & Rudmin, 2013). They opt for television programming and films that reflect the cultural Other away from, but also including their Latin American roots. Latin American cosmopolitans are thus interested in a pluralistic, domestic, and foreign media consumption that supplements their disposition toward a global culture away from the homogeneity of domestic media. Theoretically, Latin American cosmopolitans would show a preference for American and European films and television. Figure 7.3 compares the origin of program preferences with some of the most classic cosmopolitan attitudes, such as people who agreed with the following statements: “I enjoy eating foreign foods,” “I am interested in other cultures and countries,” “I like to travel and learn about exotic places,” “I am interested in international events,” “I love the idea of traveling abroad,” and “A real vacation always includes travel.” Surprisingly, none of the cosmopolitan values resulted in higher preference for foreign television and film, not even programming from the United States, which is always higher than

Fig. 7.3  Origin of program and film preference and cosmopolitan attitudes

226 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

domestic with other key demographic variables such as young age, and high economic status. The pattern we see seems to reflect omnivorousness, rather than an elitist cosmopolitanism that would favor the foreign, particularly from the U.S. and Europe, as reflected in the work of Hedegard (2015). However, when grouping cosmopolitan attitudes into cosmopolitan and non-cosmopolitan respondents, the programming preferences are more starkly different. Figures 7.4 and 7.5 were elaborated with a composite index of cosmopolitan attitudes including (1) I am interested in other cultures and countries; (2) I like to travel and learn about exotic places; (3) I enjoy eating foreign foods; and (4) I am interested in international events. Respondents who strongly agreed or agreed to all the above statements were considered cosmopolitans. Respondents who indicated to disagree or strongly disagree to the statements were considered non-­ cosmopolitans. Figure 7.4 shows that audiences considered cosmopolitans prefer European, American, and regional content slightly more than

Fig. 7.4  Cosmopolitans vs. Non-Cosmopolitans and origin of program and film preferences

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

227

Fig. 7.5  Origin of program and film of preference and access to different streaming platforms

domestic content, which is indicative of the idea of the cultural omnivore (Maguire, 2015) whose consumption varies from highbrow to middlebrow to lowbrow culture. Conversely, Fig. 7.4 shows non-cosmopolitans have a higher preference for domestic television and film than for any other region, which is more in line with the theory of cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991). To understand the role that streaming platforms have on programming preferences, Fig.  7.5 compares the percentages of kinds of programs watched on different streaming platforms available in Latin America. Of interest, is that some platforms seem to be either offering more domestic programming or used by audiences interested in watching more domestic television and film. Audiences with access to Crackle, HBO Go, Netflix, and YouTube consume slightly more American content than domestic. While Cinemax Go, Foxplay, and Sunday TV are streaming platforms in which audiences tend to watch more film and television produced locally.

228 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Following the assumption that streaming platforms have higher volumes of foreign television programs and films in their catalogues than multichannel or network television (Lobato, 2017; Aguiar & Waldfogel, 2018; Steemers, 2014), we expected to see more consumption of foreign programs and films on streaming platforms, but the actual pattern was more varied than that, with national consumption close to US consumption, even among those who had access to the new platforms. Another important factor to consider is that streaming platforms require several expensive material conditions, related to social class, in order to access them. For example, one has to have access to broadband and credit or debit cards to pay for the subscription. Research noted in Chap. 6 found that that was a problem for many Latin American consumers of television. Those two are mostly limited in Latin America to upper and middle classes. In that sense, Fig. 7.6 shows that people in the top 10% on the socioeconomic scale report the highest percentages of access to streaming platforms, specially Netflix and YouTube, with almost 10

Fig. 7.6  Access to streaming platforms and level of economic status

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

229

percentage points of difference to the next 20%, which represent the upper-middle class. Then the next 20% are also over 10 percentage points away from the next 30%, which represent the middle class, which means that as socioeconomic status decreases, access to streaming platforms decreases dramatically. Notably, in 2014, streaming platforms were still trying to penetrate the market, so even within the top 10% the giant Netflix was only half as popular as YouTube.

Conclusion So far in this book, we have examined the quite remarkable growth of the broadcast television industries and television production capability in Latin America, particularly in several of the largest and best developed countries, such Brazil and Mexico, first and foremost, then Argentina and Colombia, as well, examined in Chap. 2. We also examined the reciprocal growth of a strong national audience for that national production, examined in Chap. 3, based in some large part on cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991) and the strength of national identity or imagined community, itself reinforced by national television (Anderson, 2006). To a lesser degree, we found that in some of the smaller Latin American countries, there is a fairly strong attraction to the telenovelas, variety shows, and, increasingly, the action super series, of the regional main producers, which in the super series genre, now includes a new major producer, Telemundo, based in the U.S. Hispanic population. This reflects a secondary level of cultural proximity, supporting a regional television market, notable but less strong than was originally theorized (Sinclair et  al., 1996; Straubhaar, 1991; Wilkinson, 1995). However, throughout this book, we have also clear evidence that Latin American upper-middle class and elite audiences have long been less engaged with national television and more interested in programming and film from the U.S., and to a lesser degree, Europe. That is examined in terms of their historical structural class position, and in terms of their preferences expressed in the TGI surveys, that we have analyzed in Chap. 4. This seems to have been reinforced by the expansion of the middle classes, upper-middle and even elite classes during the economic growth spurt that took place in many Latin American countries from the late 1990s through the mid-2010s, as examined in Chap. 5. That seems to have increased the audience in Latin America for pay-TV, which is heavily populated by channels from the U.S., although some of the larger Latin

230 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

American producers, such as TV Globo and Televisa, have created a number of their own pay-TV channels of national news, telenovelas, music, and so on, plus documentary and film channels that mix in international content. Interest in pay-TV has also spread into the middle and low middle classes during the economic boom, as noted in Chap. 5, which indicates that parts of those classes may be moving toward more interest in international, particularly U.S. content. Chapter 6 examines the growth of streaming television in Latin America, which also tends to amplify the availability of U.S. and European television and film content in Latin America. We argue that it does this, particularly examining Netflix’s approach, by directly targeting individual audience members through algorithmic profiles and recommendations based on the accumulation of big data about the individual and by placing individuals into taste clusters, based on genre interests, which adds more data to leverage to make recommendations. We argue that this approach cuts across previous national and regional patterns of television flow, which had implicit boundaries of language and culture. It also cuts across the pattern of simple U.S. outflow of content, since Netflix at least, unlike Disney+, offers an increasing amount of content from Asia and Europe as well as from the U.S. So we call this pattern transverse transnationalism, as it cuts across past patterns of flow to target individuals by genre taste wherever they are. All this increased attention to foreign television in Latin America, particularly programming, streams, and channels from the U.S., but also other Anglophone countries, Europe, Asia, and elsewhere, also indicates the need for increased theoretical understanding, particularly of audiences and their motivations. The larger structural explanations of cultural imperialism (Schiller, 1991) and platform imperialism (Jin, 2017) apply well enough to the economics and structures of the flows, but audiences don’t necessarily use those structures just because they are there, there must be cultural or other attractions at play as well. Building on the patterns we had observed in Chapts. 2–6, we thought that some of the theoretical debates in cultural sociology were relevant. We had already made extensive use of Bourdieu’s theory of cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals (Bourdieu, 1984) to explain why upper-­ middle and elite classes seem to prefer imported culture, as opposed to the more nationally oriented preferences of middle, lower-middle, working, and working-poor classes, as applied in Chaps. 3–5. Bourdieu’s original argument (1984) was that upper-middle and elite classes built on their

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

231

access to greater cultural capital to show their distinction from the rest of society by preferring classical or erudite music to more popular music. According to our evidence about the preferences of Latin American audiences for imported versus national television and film, this explanation still seems quite plausible. It probably accounts for a good deal of what cultural elites in the upper-middle and elite classes are doing. Furthermore, it connects these elite cultural preferences to their structural places in society, where dependency theorists like dos Santos had predicted that Latin American elites would be connected by ties of education, language abilities, work, and travel to neo-colonial powers like the U.S. (Dos Santos, 1978). However, our analysis in Chap. 7 not only supports those theories but also supports two competing or, in our thinking, complementary approaches, the concepts of cosmopolitanism and elites as cultural omnivores. Cosmopolitanism is approached in a large number of ways in the literature, but we worked with two basic definitions, of cosmopolitanism as a high-minded interest in other countries and cultures (Beck, 2006; Hannerz, 1990; Skrbis et al., 2004) and as more mundane, as an interest in consuming other cultures through food, purchases, and travel (Germann Molz, 2011; Skrbis & Woodward, 2007; Szerszynski & Urry, 2002). Although these two versions of cosmopolitanism are prominent in the literature, we also picked them somewhat pragmatically, as they correspond well to four questions (on interest in foreign countries, foreign news, foreign food, and travel) that had been asked in the TGI surveys that we have been using to examine audience preferences in Latin America. Interestingly, when we looked at them statistically, the four questions scaled together strongly into a single index of cosmopolitanism, suggesting that while two questions each represented the two trends in the literature, they are all closely related. This index of cosmopolitan attitudes was significantly related to television preferences, but what it revealed also seemed to be cosmopolitanism as cultural omnivorousness. Those in the sample who held all four of these cosmopolitan attitudes not only like U.S. and European culture on television, but liked national culture and regional culture on TV just as well. As applied to television consumption, that seems to be a pretty fair operational or working definition of cultural omnivorousness. The literature on cultural omnivores counterposed omnivorousness to the kind of classic distinction based on preference for a high culture that Bourdieu found in 1984 (Peterson, 1992, 2005).

232 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Our argument based on the data we analyzed is that all three of these concepts are related, and all help us understand the evolving national versus imported television preferences of Latin American audiences. People in audiences, particularly those in upper-middle or elite classes, still want to show their cultural distinction. We can see it in the data analyzed in Chaps. 4, 5, and 7. Among the co-authors, Straubhaar has observed it in practice as he observed Brazilian graduate students in seminars he taught in the mid- to late-2010s talk about how much they enjoyed Orange is the New Black or House of Cards on Netflix as a fairly obvious way of trying to show how culturally sophisticated they were. However, as the evolving literature argues, both cosmopolitanism and omnivorousness can also function to demonstrate social distinction (Lindell, 2014). In fact, recent research shows that cosmopolitanism may be evolving as a new form of cultural capital, and vice versa, to be used precisely to display social distinction (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017). And if we wanted to be a little provocative in our conclusions, we could argue that this combination of social status (upper-middle and elite classes), cosmopolitan attitudes, omnivorous preference for television from a wide variety of geographic and cultural sources, and an ongoing desire by social elites to display their distinction may be what has driven pay-TV subscriptions in Latin America and what is currently driving subscriptions to streaming media, such as Netflix and Amazon Prime.

References Aguiar, L., & Waldfogel, J. (2018). Netflix: Global hegemon or facilitator of frictionless digital trade? Journal of Cultural Economics, 42(3), 419–445. Anderson, B. (2006). Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. Verso. Bank, W. (2016). Sectoral policies: Making the internet universal, affordable, open, and safe. In World development report 2016 (pp. 200–240). World Bank. Beck, U. (2004). Cosmopolitan realism: On the distinction between cosmopolitanism in philosophy and the social sciences. Global Networks, 4(2), 131–156. Beck, U. (2006). Cosmopolitan vision. Polity. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction. Harvard University Press. Bourdieu, P. (1986). The forms of capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of theory and research for the sociology of education (pp. 241–258). Greenwood Press. Canclini, N. G. (1995). Hybrid cultures: Strategies for entering and leaving modernity. University of Minnesota Press.

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

233

Cicchelli, V., Octobre, S., & Riegel, V. (2016). After the omnivore, the cosmopolitan amateur: Reflections about aesthetic cosmopolitanism. The Global Studies Journal, 9(1), 55–70. Dos Santos, T. (1973). The crisis of development theory and problems of departure in Latin America. In H. Bernstein (Ed.), Underdevelopment and development: The third world today. Penguin. Dos Santos, T. (1978). Imperialismo y dependencia. DF Ediciones Era. Elkins, E. (2019). Algorithmic cosmopolitanism: On the global claims of digital entertainment platforms. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 36(4), 376–389. Etinson, A. (2010). Cosmopolitanism: Cultural, Moral, and Political (pp. 25–46). De Gruyter. Friedman, S. (2012). Cultural omnivores or culturally homeless? Exploring the shifting cultural identities of the upwardly mobile. Poetics, 40(5), 467–489. Germann Molz, J. (2011). Cosmopolitanism and consumption. In M. Nowicka (Ed.), The Ashgate research companion to cosmopolitanism. Taylor and Francis. Hall, S. (2002). Political belonging in a world of multiple identities. Conceiving cosmopolitanism: Theory, context, and practice, 25–31. Hannerz, U. (1990). Cosmopolitans and locals in world culture. Theory, Culture & Society, 7(2), 237–251. Hannerz, U. (2006). Two faces of cosmopolitanism: Culture and politics. Statsvetenskaplig tidskrift, 107(3). Hannerz, U., & Ulf Hannerz, H. (1996). Transnational connections: Culture, people, places. Taylor & Francis US. Hedegard, D. (2015). Transnational connections: The meaning of global culture in the tastes of Brazilian elites. Poetics, 53, 52–64. Igarashi, H., & Saito, H. (2014). Cosmopolitanism as cultural capital: Exploring the intersection of globalization, education and stratification. Cultural Sociology, 8(3), 222–239. https://doi.org/10.1177/1749975514523935 Islas, O. (2018, February 23). El Mapa de Internet en México. Retrieved from https://www.eluniversal.com.mx/columna/octavio-­islas/techbit/el-­mapa-­ de-­internet-­en-­mexico ITU. (2016). The state of broadband 2016: Broadband catalyzing sustainable growth. World Bank. Jacobsen, J., Majbritt, P., & Chauhan, U. (Eds.). (2020). The global audiences of Danish Television Drama (Vol. The global audiences of Danish Television Drama). Nordicom. Jenkins, H. (2006). Fans, bloggers, and gamers: Exploring participatory culture. New York University Press. Jin, D. Y. (2017). Global digital culture| digital platform as a double-edged sword: How to interpret cultural flows in the Platform Era. International Journal of Communication, 11, 3880–3898.

234 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Lindell, J. (2014). Cosmopolitanism in a mediatized world—The social stratification of global orientations. (PhD). Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden. Lindell, J., & Danielsson, M. (2017). Moulding cultural capital into cosmopolitan capital. De Gruyter Open. Lobato, R. (2017). Streaming services and the changing global geography of television. In Handbook on Geographies of Technology. Edward Elgar Publishing. Maguire, J. S. (2015). Cultural omnivores. In D. T. Cook & J. M. Ryan (Eds.), The Wiley Blackwell encyclopedia of consumption and consumer studies (pp. 214–216). John Wiley & Sons. Martin-Barbero, J. (1987). De los medios a las mediaciones: Comunicación, cultura y hegemonía. Editorial Gustavo Gili. O’dougherty, M. (2002). Consumption intensified. Duke University Press. Peterson, R.  A. (1992). Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. Poetics, 21(4), 243–258. Peterson, R. A. (2005). Problems in comparative research: The example of omnivorousness. Poetics, 33(5), 257–282. Peterson, R. A., & Kern, R. M. (1996). Changing highbrow taste: From snob to omnivore. American sociological review, 900–907. Peterson, R. A., & Simkus, A. (1992). How musical taste groups mark occupational status groups. In M. Lamont & M. Fournier (Eds.), Cultivating differences: Symbolic boundaries and the making of inequality (pp.  152–168). University of Chicago Press. Poster, M. (2011). 1. Global Media and Culture. In Beyond Globalization (pp. 15–29). Rutgers University Press. Prieur, A., & Savage, M. (2013). Emerging forms of cultural capital. European Societies, 15(2), 246–267. Prysthon, A. (2001). Mapeando o pós-colonialismo e os estudos culturais na América Latina. Anpoli, 10, 223–246. Riefler, P., & Diamantopoulos, A. (2009). Consumer cosmopolitanism: Review and replication of the CYMYC scale. Journal of Business Research, 62(4), 407–419. Schiller, H. I. (1991). Not yet the post‐imperialist era. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 8(1), 13–28. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. D. (2013). Latin American television industries. BFI/ Palgrave Macmillan. Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New patterns in global television (pp. 1–15). Oxford University Press. Sheriff, R. E. (2001). Dreaming equality: Color, race, and racism in urban Brazil. Rutgers University Press.

7  NETFLIX, DISTINCTION, AND COSMOPOLITANISM AMONG… 

235

Skrbis, Z., & Woodward, I. (2007). The ambivalence of ordinary cosmopolitanism: Investigating the limits of cosmopolitan openness. The Sociological Review, 55(4), 730–747. Skrbis, Z., Kendall, G., & Woodward, I. (2004). Locating cosmopolitanism: Between humanist ideal and grounded social category. Theory, Culture & Society, 21(6), 115–136. Steemers, J. (2014). Selling television: Addressing transformations in the international distribution of television content. Media Industries Journal, 1(1). Straubhaar, J. (1991). Beyond media imperialism: Asymmetrical interdependence and cultural proximity. Critical Studies in Mass Communication, 8, 39–59. Straubhaar, J. D. (2007). World television: From global to local. SAGE publications. Sullivan, A. (2001). Cultural capital and educational attainment. Sociology, 35(4), 893–912. https://doi.org/10.1177/0038038501035004006. Szerszynski, B., & Urry, J. (2002). Cultures of cosmopolitanism. The Sociological Review, 50(4), 461–481. Szerszynski, B., & Urry, J. (2006). Visuality, mobility and the cosmopolitan: inhabiting the world from afar. The British Journal of Sociology, 57(1), 113–131. Türken, S., & Rudmin, F. W. (2013). On psychological effects of globalization: Development of a scale of global identity. Psychology & Society, 5(2), 63–89. Vertovec, S., & Cohen, R. (2000). Conceiving cosmopolitanism: Theory, context and practice (pp. 1–22). Oxford University Press. Wallerstein, I. (1974). The rise and future demise of the world capitalist system: Concepts for comparative analysis. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 16(4), 387–415. Wallerstein, I. (1976). The modern world system. Academic Press. Warde, A., Wright, D., & Gayo-Cal, M. (2008). The omnivorous orientation in the UK. Poetics, 36, 148–165. Wilkinson, K. (1995). Where culture, language and communication converge: The Latin-American cultural linguistic market (Ph.D.). University of Texas-Austin, Wilson, T. C. (2002). The paradox of social class and sports involvement: the roles of cultural and economic capital. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 37(1), 5–16. https://doi.org/10.1177/1012690202037001001. Woodward, I., Skrbis, Z., & Bean, C. (2008). Attitudes towards globalization and cosmopolitanism: Cultural diversity, personal consumption and the national economy. The British Journal of Sociology, 59(2), 207–226.

CHAPTER 8

Conclusion

National Preferences Television in Latin America has been noteworthy worldwide for being among the first in the world, outside North America and Western Europe, to move toward creating strong national industries to produce local content in several major countries by the 1970s (Tunstall, 2008). The most developed television networks in the region, Televisa in Mexico and TV Globo in Brazil, also moved relatively quickly to export programs to the rest of Latin America, and in the case of TV Globo Portugal and Lusophone Africa (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013). Television grew quickly in much of the rest of Latin America, too, creating a situation with a top tier of exporters, Brazil and Mexico, then a second tier of countries developed that produced much of their own programming and also exported some (Roncagliolo, 1995), like Argentina, Chile, Colombia, and Venezuela. Other countries rose into this group, like Colombia (Benavides, 2008; Espinosa-Medina & Uribe-Jongbloed, 2017), or fell out of it, like Venezuela (Acosta-Alzuru, 2013), over time. Most of the others slowly developed their own programs in some of the lower cost genres, importing the rest from Latin America in certain genres like telenovelas, or from the U.S. in other genres like cartoons, action-­ adventure, or drama, or from Japan in cartoons.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7_8

237

238 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

In this book, we have examined the quite remarkable growth of the broadcast television industries and television production capability in Latin America, particularly in several of the largest and best developed countries, such Brazil and Mexico, first and foremost, then Argentina and Colombia, as well, examined in Chap. 2. We also examined the reciprocal growth of a strong national audience for that national production, examined in Chap. 3, based in some large part on cultural proximity (Straubhaar, 1991) and the strength of national identity or imagined community itself reinforced by national television (Anderson, 1983). To a lesser degree, we found that in some of the smaller Latin American countries, there is a fairly strong attraction to the telenovelas, variety shows, and comedies of the regional main producers. There is also the new super series genre, which now includes a new major producer, Telemundo, based in the U.S. Hispanic population (Pinon, 2019). This reflects a secondary level of cultural proximity, supporting a regional television market, notable but less strong than was originally theorized (Sinclair et  al., 1996; Straubhaar, 1991; Wilkinson, 1995). Examining this national or domestic television advantage (in Chap. 3), it was clear that national television production expanded in Latin America due to not only the growing productive ability captured in Chap. 2, but also audience interest in national production. The enormous success of TV Globo, Televisa, Clarín, Venevisión, and others was due to strong audience response to their productive capacity and genre development. That strong audience response made the extra cost of national production worth it to both networks and advertising sponsors (Mattos, 1984). Even though many countries were taking advantage of a flood of cheap foreign programs to fill their program schedules (Nordenstreng & Varis, 1974), those were not as popular with audiences, which TV Globo discovered when it had to switch strategies away from imports to national production in 1965 to gain an audience (Straubhaar, 1984). In fact, national production increased across several Latin American countries, particularly for prime time when audiences were concentrated, but also across the broadcast day. That growth was reflected in the table about national production (see Fig. 3.2). One theoretical explanation for that increasing preference for national production was cultural proximity, the theory that audiences tend to prefer the programming that is most similar to their own cultures and identities (Straubhaar, 1991). The idea was that people would tend to prefer national television (or local/regional if it was economically feasible) first,

8 CONCLUSION 

239

then television from other, culturally similar Latin American countries second, particularly in genres like telenovela that some countries were too small or poor to produce for themselves. Conversely, the theory of cultural discount argued that audiences would reject cultural imports that were too alien, unfamiliar, or non-relevant, particularly in genres, like news, where local relevance was most important (Hoskins & Mirus, 1988). A famous example of this latter phenomenon in Latin America was the failure of Dallas in Latin America, where interviewees told Straubhaar in 1989–1990 that it seemed like a less interesting version of something they did better, the telenovela. These predictions, at least for national preference, seemed to hold up in Latin America, 2004–2014, in the TGI data we examined in Chap. 3. Figure 3.2 showed that well over half of most audiences in the eight countries examined preferred national programming. Only in Peru in 2004 did national preference fall below 50%. In fact, the aggregate regional average preference for national programs was consistently above 60% in 2004 and 2014 (in Fig. 3.1). However, the same Fig. 3.2 shows that in most of the eight Latin American countries analyzed, the second preference after national programming was for U.S. programs, not regional ones from other Latin American countries. That challenges the second half of the cultural proximity theory prediction; that in countries which could not produce a certain genre, the audience preference would turn to productions from culturally similar or proximate countries within the region of Latin America. However, the preference for regional programs was fairly strong in smaller Latin American countries with fewer production resources and less ability to produce expensive genres like telenovelas, dramas, or series. So the theory of cultural proximity applies but in much more limited circumstances than originally imagined. National preference did vary by genre. Almost all audiences consistently preferred national news, something predicted by cultural discount theory, since news has more need to be local. However, those who tended to like national programming more, in general, were much more likely to prefer national drama or telenovela, as well as national series, as indicated in Fig. 3.4. As we will see below, audiences tended to be most interested in foreign production in genres, like drama series, that were not produced extensively in either the main nations or the region. National preference also varied by country. Partial nationalization of private stations in Ecuador and Venezuela led to declines in the

240 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

production of telenovelas and other entertainment (Acosta-Alzuru, 2013), since the new government stations did not produce them. That in turn led to a decline in audience interest in those genres, which were then primarily imported from elsewhere in Latin America. There were slight ups and downs in preference for national programs in Colombia and Mexico, slight increases in Argentina and Brazil, and a level but high preference in Chile. Regional programs were preferred most in countries that were either traditional or new importers of programs, such as Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, and Venezuela. Interest in regional programs declined most in Peru, where interest in U.S. programs increased the most. Regional interest increased the most in Ecuador, almost equal to national programs.

Continuing Attraction and Power of Imported Programs and U.S. Culture If cultural proximity leads audiences toward familiar content, national or regional, what leads them toward foreign television, beyond the cultural contours of Latin America? We discovered a considerable continuing strength of attraction to foreign culture on television, particularly from the U.S., on both broadcast and multichannel television. For we did observe, from 2004 to 2014, a gradual increase in interest or preference for programs and films from the U.S., reaching 48% across Latin America in 2014, compared to 60% for national programming. Interest in U.S. programming did decline notably in Venezuela and somewhat in Ecuador, probably related to internal political campaigns against U.S. media and interests. Interest in European programming (26%) was much lower than for U.S. programs (see Fig. 3.2). Later studies show that audiences begin to be interested in more different national productions of prestigious programming like dramatic series began to be available, particularly on the newer medium of streaming television, which we examined in Chap. 6. An in-depth examination of global audiences for Danish dramatic series exports finds audiences in Brazil and elsewhere in the region (Jensen & Jacobsen, 2020), concentrated in the larger upper-­middle-­class interest in foreign drama series, which we discussed in Chaps. 6 and 7. To understand the continuing attraction of U.S. programming in Latin America, it helps to examine the history of U.S. cultural power in Latin America. In the largest sense, after independence from the former cultural

8 CONCLUSION 

241

powers of Spain and Portugal, many Latin Americans, particularly those in what we would now consider the elite and upper-middle class, transferred their loyalties as elites from the former colonial powers to the new post-­ colonial economic and cultural powers of the U.S., Great Britain, and France (Sanders, 2014). They particularly identified with the U.S., which worked hardest to assert its power, not only through obvious steps like the Monroe Doctrine that asserted its primacy in the Americas, but more specifically through the influence of U.S. film industries (Schnitman, 1984), radio through RCA (Schwoch, 1990), television through RCA in equipment and Time-Life, ABC, and others in management (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013; Straubhaar, 1981), and through the prodigious export to Latin America of U.S. film (Miller et al., 2005), music (Laing, 1986), and television (Varis, 1974). Such one-way flows from the U.S. to regions such as Latin America were considered media imperialism (Boyd-Barrett, 1977) or part of larger cultural imperialism that intended precisely to get Latin Americans to subscribe to U.S. visions of a consumer-capitalist world order (Beltran, 1978; Schiller, 1969). There is considerable tension between theories like cultural imperialism that predicted a continued dominance of television flows by the U.S. and theories like cultural proximity that predicted a turn away from U.S. cultural goods to national and regional ones. However, one theoretical resolution might be to consider that U.S. and national cultural productions appeal to different aspects or layers of complex cultural identities in which national identities co-exist with Americanized or partially globalized ones. Both exist within a complex political and cultural economy in which strong national cultural industries co-exist with strong U.S. (and European and other) cultural industries that continue to put attractive cultural goods into a globalized cultural market in which different productions and flows co-exist. Different layers of identities, both nationalized and “Americanized,” can develop, grow, shrink, or transform in interaction with these cultural industries (Straubhaar, 2007).

The Impact of New Television Technologies The overall strength of both productive ability and audience loyalty in national and regional television in Latin America seemed to keep at bay some of the technologies that permitted massively renewed importation of television from abroad in other world regions. Neither VCRs in the 1980s (Boyd et  al., 1989) nor satellite and cable television in the 1990s

242 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

(Straubhaar, 2007) had the same massive impact on Latin America that they had in India, Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and Central and Eastern Europe. In fact, the initial impact of satellite television in large nations like Brazil and Mexico was to increase the reach of national television by letting local repeater stations carry satellite television signals down to regular television viewers in remote areas (Straubhaar, 1981, 2007). However, a couple of larger nations, Argentina and Colombia, had much larger bases of cable and satellite television since government policies had limited national commercial television networks, so commercial multichannel or pay-TV had much greater penetration there, including quite a bit of national production for cable channels (Fox & Waisbord, 2002). Direct to home multichannel or pay-TV, by both satellite and cable, slowly increased in the rest of Latin America in the 1990s, as did new streaming television networks after 2010, throughout the region, as audiences began to seek some diversity (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013), beyond the major national and regional producers that they had long enjoyed. Multichannel or cable, satellite, and pay-TV, in general, finally took off in the 2000s. Figure 2.1 shows that multichannel television grew steadily in all of the eight countries studied in Latin America from 2004 on. There was some leveling off or downturn in pay-TV subscriptions in some countries after 2012, when some countries began to tip into economic recession.

Increase in Lower-Middle Class Increases Pay-TV Use Television use in Latin America has always been connected to social class. Only elites and upper-middle classes had television up through the mid-­1960s, but it began to expand rapidly in the 1970s with a cycle of economic growth that increased the middle classes in many countries (Ferreira et al., 2013). From 2001 until 2011, the middle classes tripled in Ecuador, doubled in Argentina and Colombia, and increased significantly in the five other countries studied (Ferreira et  al., 2013). The upper-­ middle class also went by at least 40% in all of them, much more in some (see Fig. 5.1 in Chap. 5). Other sources verify considerable growth in the middle classes in 2000–2010 (Ferreira et  al., 2013). That has changed Latin American television notably. Multichannel penetration seems to have increased considerably among the upper-middle class and even more

8 CONCLUSION 

243

among the lower-middle class in 2004–2014. It grew much more among the working class and poor in some countries than in others. To go further requires breaking social class down into several components. Class represents several kinds of capital: income, education/culture, language (Bourdieu, 1984). Income is connected to affording pay-TV, or more currently streaming television and broadband access (Straubhaar et al., 2019a), but cultural capital or education seems to be linked to preferring some of the imported contents prominent on pay-TV and streaming television. Growth in multichannel or pay-TV seems very low among the least educated, except in Argentina, where it has unique status, given the historical disruption of broadcast television there (Fig. 5.12). Growth was much stronger among secondary and particularly university-­educated viewers (Fig. 5.11). Overall, we found from the TGI surveys that most people get multichannel or pay-TV to “have more television channels” and to “get better reception.” Better educated people are somewhat more likely to get it to “receive more entertainment and education from other places,” which clearly connects with the cultural capital to want more imported television, and because they want “to be up-to-date with the latest technology,” which also goes along with higher status and knowing more about what is available.

Economic and Cultural Capital and the Appeal of Foreign TV Increased access to the foreign, through multichannel television, enabled by increased economic capital, is part of the reason for an overall moderate increase in interest in U.S. or European television. Economic capital grew in most of Latin America in 2004–2014, giving more people the money to afford multichannel access to more imported television. Interest in U.S. programming grew slowly but steadily among the richest (top 10%), the upper-middle class (next 20%), and the lower-middle class (next 30%), but not much among the working class or poor (lowest 40%). However, it seems clear that simply having access to more foreign material does not guarantee that it will be watched, since the overall pattern of national preference did not shift greatly. In several countries, notably two with strong national production, Brazil and Mexico, interest in U.S. production rose after 2004 and then fell again by 2014 (noted in Fig. 3.1).

244 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

That might indicate an interest in novelty, as more people had more access to U.S. programs on multichannel television, were curious about them, but then returned to more familiar national fare. We examined the impact of increased cultural and linguistic capital, which likely enables greater comprehension and appreciation of foreign culture, like having the knowledge of the world sufficient to understand and enjoy CNN. Better-educated Latin Americans, those with more cultural capital, were consistently more interested in U.S. programming than were less well-educated people. That also increased steadily in 2004–2014, particularly among those with higher education. Among those with secondary education, it increased slightly until 2007–2009, then leveled off, and declined slightly. That might be consistent with a general pattern of initial curiosity about U.S. television that leveled off or even declined, especially in some countries, like Brazil or Mexico with particularly strong national television. Interest among the better educated in European television programs was pretty consistent, but among those with secondary education, it increased in the early- to mid-2000s, then leveled off. Those with more economic capital were also consistently more interested in European programming. Preference for European programming grew slightly among all income groups in 2004–2007 but then leveled off. Linguistic capital, defined here as English language ability, has not really grown in the Latin American audience, 2004–2014, despite all the millions of people taking English language courses. However, English linguistic capital is strongly and increasingly, from 2004 to 2014, associated with preference for U.S. and European programming. By 2014, the number of people who prefer U.S. programs is much higher among all countries except Chile, where interest is uniformly high, and Venezuela, where interest had uniformly declined. Overall, like cultural capital in terms of education, learning English is strongly associated with more globalized or internationalized taste in television. Although language capital is associated with liking foreign programs, Latin American audiences are overwhelmingly (around 75%) accepting of dubbing imported programs into national languages. That has increased in most countries in 2004–2014, probably in part as the availability of dubbed programs and channels has increased. Preference for subtitling is much lower, around 25%, although it is higher among those with higher education. Young people (under 24) are more likely to prefer foreign programs. Middle-aged (25–50) audiences also prefer foreign much more than those

8 CONCLUSION 

245

who are older. However, while preference for U.S. programs increased in 2004–2014 among those with greater cultural, economic, and linguistic capital, the preference among the young did not increase. So age was a stronger predictor of foreign interest in 2004 than it was in 2014. In contrast, youth interest in European programs grew better as a predictor in 2004–2014. And youth seem to be early adopters again with imported streaming programs, largely U.S. (see Chap. 6), so with new waves of technology, like television/film streaming, and with services like Netflix, it seems likely that youth will be early adopters of that as well. U.S. data have shown that and qualitative interviews in Brazil by Straubhaar see heavy use of Netflix among better educated young people in their 20s and 30s. Another interesting set of predictors of foreign preference are cosmopolitan attitudes, for example an increased interest in foreign issues/ events, countries, travel, and food. Logically, people with these attitudes should like foreign television. They do but they also like domestic and regional. It seems cosmopolitans are cultural omnivores who are interested in everything.

Television Over the Internet, Streaming Television For audiences with access to broadband Internet, television in Latin America and elsewhere is being redefined. In terms of what television consists of, audiences watch increasing amounts of non-traditional forms of video, particularly on YouTube. In terms of when television is watched, streaming has revolutionized viewing on demand, especially on the binges of several programs from the same series. Streaming services are increasing and now use most of the Internet bandwidth in Latin America, as it has for years in the U.S. Global or transnational programming has been further strengthened as an unequal flow, largely in from outside the region (Penner & Straubhaar, 2020), by incoming streaming platforms that offer another substantial layer of international content, building on earlier layers of flow such as pay-TV and the sale of many imported programs to broadcast stations and networks (see Chaps. 4 and 5). We argue in Chap. 6 that the concept of transversality can help us understand the novel nature of the new streaming flows that add to but also cut across existing television flows that went primarily from the U.S. and Europe out across the world from the 1960s, then within regions from the 1970s on. This is why we have taken the concept of transversality

246 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

and redefined it to apply to this substantially new form of flow. It is transverse because it cuts across traditional flows: from the U.S. to Latin America, within the regional market of Latin America, and within the national markets of the countries themselves. The new transnational streaming flows by Amazon, Disney+, and Netflix do that by directly targeting individual audience members as part of groups by taste and genre preferences, or what Netflix calls taste clusters. The streaming companies directly target individuals across cultures, guided by algorithms using big data that they gather about their individual viewers’ program and genre preferences. These algorithmically driven flows are a strikingly different kind of flow. It is no longer bounded, limited, or controlled by language, culture, or national policies promoting national or regional programming or identity. When Straubhaar presented a version of Chap. 6 to an international conference on cultural policy, academics and policy officials were struck by what a real challenge this presented to decades of cultural policy aimed at reinforcing either national or regional cultures. There is a need to both theoretically redefine these kinds of flows and also begin to think about policy responses to them. This is made possible by the technological breakthrough of algorithms and big data, restructuring what was possible with previous forms and layers of flow. However, not all successful streaming operations will be transnational or transverse. Existing television networks like TV Globo are creating nationally focused streaming services like Globoplay, with new programming for them, recycled programming from their broadcast network, such as hit telenovelas from the past, and new licensed programming, including some from the U.S. and elsewhere. Furthermore, some global streaming services, like Disney+, are essentially doubling down on the long-existing one-way flow out of Hollywood to the rest of the world by offering its popular U.S.-produced films, series, and cartoons all over, and doing little co-production outside the U.S.  In theoretical terms, Disney+ is primarily a new wave of U.S. cultural imperialism. We considered the history of well-established national media markets, particularly Mexico and Brazil, which have filled their own national spaces with national production. We have examined regional flows, including exports by Mexico and Brazil, plus others such as Argentina, Chile, and Colombia, exporting telenovelas, and other genres. And we examine how those ongoing dynamics are now interacting with streaming platforms. Transversality means that some global streaming media companies make it

8 CONCLUSION 

247

possible for audiences and content to travel between national and regional television flows motivated by taste preferences regardless of geographic, linguistic, and cultural boundaries. One of the reasons why streaming has become more truly global than most other forms of television includes the multiplicity of models available on different platforms. Chapter 6 outlined and classified how national media companies, international and regional pay-TV companies, international and regional telecommunication companies, and a variety of standalone services have joined the streaming industry. Theoretically, these models led us into a discussion about platform imperialism (Jin, 2017), in which companies like Netflix might offer global content and cater to national, regional, and global audiences, but operations, control, and financial gain continue to be controlled by the U.S. firms. While one of the upsides of some of the new global streamers, particularly Netflix, but increasingly Amazon Prime and HBO, too, is that they are paying for dozens of co-productions, particularly in Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico, the ultimate financial, production, and distribution decisions are made in the U.S., rather like the current pattern of global production with a new global distribution of labor by Hollywood (Miller et al., 2005), but with a great deal more power to target individual consumers and promote their productions via algorithmic recommendations (Elkins, 2019; Lobato, 2019). In Chap. 6, we have also laid out the strategies deployed by Netflix to penetrate the Latin American market. In their first major co-productions, Netflix seemed to be taking a page from the Televisa and Globo playbooks. Their first Netflix originals in the region were Club de Cuervos in Mexico and 3% in Brazil, which used familiar telenovela tropes and familiar actors. These two countries have been the major exporters to the region (Sinclair & Straubhaar, 2013), which makes them ideal in geo-cultural terms (Sinclair et al., 1996) as initial partners for Netflix to create content for the region. It appears Netflix has found a formula for success in its Latin American market, sharing actors, directors, and producers with national networks and with HBO Latinoamérica and relying on popular genres such as telenovelas, narco dramas (Benavides, 2008), the new action super series (Pinon, 2019), and bio-series, like Luis Miguel. The concept of quality TV, focused on high quality, often controversial dramatic series, originally developed by HBO (McCabe & Akass, 2008), offers a sense of cultural distinction to elites and upper-middle classes (Bourdieu, 1984). Netflix has taken that idea to create originals, dramatic

248 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

series, comedies, and films that appeal to an upper-middle class and elite transnational audience. Building on our earlier analysis of why Latin Americans choose to watch U.S. and European television and film in Chap. 4, cultural capital from education, family connections, travel, language learning, and so on enables those who possess it to enjoy and prefer more foreign programming. These better-off Latin American audiences are also the ones most likely to have home broadband or other forms of access that let them afford to stream hours of high quality image television (Straubhaar et al., 2019b). Although speaking English is positively related to preference for programming from other countries (see Chap. 4), Netflix has taken considerable efforts to translate, dub, and make its content available in different languages. Multilingualism positions Netflix as a transnational and global competitor and reinforces its position as a quality TV producer.

Latin American Cosmopolitan Audiences Throughout this book, we have clear evidence that Latin American upper-­ middle class and elite audiences have long been less engaged with national television and more interested in programming and film from the U.S., and to a lesser degree, Europe. That is examined in terms of their historical structural class position, and in terms of their preferences expressed in the TGI surveys in Chap. 4. The expansion of the middle classes, upper-­ middle and elite classes during the Latin American economic growth spurt from the late 1990s through the mid-2010s seems to reinforce these patterns, as examined in Chap. 5. All this increased attention to foreign television in Latin America, particularly programming, streams, and channels from the U.S., but also other Anglophone countries, Europe, Asia, and elsewhere, also indicates the need for increased theoretical understanding, particularly of audiences and their motivations. The larger structural explanations of cultural imperialism (Schiller, 1991) and platform imperialism (Jin, 2017) apply well enough to the economics and structures of the flows, but audiences don’t necessarily use those structures just because they are there; there must be cultural or other attractions at play as well. Some of the theoretical debates in cultural sociology since the 1980s are relevant. Bourdieu’s theory of cultural, economic, and linguistic capitals (1984) helps explain why upper-middle and elite classes seem to prefer imported culture, as opposed to the more nationally oriented preferences

8 CONCLUSION 

249

of middle, lower-middle, working, and working-poor classes (see Chaps. 3 and 4). Bourdieu argued (1984) that upper-middle and elite classes used their greater cultural capital to show their distinction from the rest of society. His example was how they preferred classical or erudite music to more popular music. Our evidence about the preferences of Latin American audiences for imported versus national television and film fit a similar pattern. The argument that elites seek distinction through cultural preferences probably accounts for a good deal of what the upper-middle and elite classes are doing in their television viewing. Furthermore, the concept of cultural capital connects these elite cultural preferences to their structural places in society, where dependency theorists like dos Santos had predicted that Latin American elites would be connected by ties of education, language abilities, work, and travel to neo-colonial powers like the U.S. (Dos Santos, 1978). However, our analysis in Chap. 7 not only supports the applicability of those theories but also supports two other approaches from cultural sociology: the concepts of cosmopolitanism and elites as cultural omnivores. Cosmopolitanism is approached in a large number of ways in the literature, but we worked with two basic definitions. First is cosmopolitanism as a high-minded interest in other countries and cultures (Beck, 2006; Hannerz, 1990; Skrbis et al., 2004). Second is a more mundane consumption of other cultures through food, purchases, and travel, what some call banal cosmopolitanism (Germann Molz, 2011; Skrbis & Woodward, 2007; Szerszynski & Urry, 2002). These two versions of cosmopolitanism are prominent in the literature, but we also picked them somewhat pragmatically, as they correspond well to four questions (on interest in foreign countries, foreign news, foreign food, and travel) that had been asked in the TGI surveys that we have been using. Interestingly, when we looked at them statistically, the four questions scaled together strongly into a single index of cosmopolitanism, suggesting that while two questions each represented the two trends in the literature, they are all closely related. These cosmopolitan attitudes were significantly related to television preferences, but what that revealed conceptually seemed to be cosmopolitanism as cultural omnivorousness. Those who held all four of these cosmopolitan attitudes not only like U.S. and European culture on television, but like national culture and regional culture just as well. At least as applied to television consumption, that seems to be a pretty fair operational definition of cultural omnivorousness.

250 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

The literature on cultural omnivores counterposes omnivorousness to the kind of classic distinction based on preference for high culture that Bourdieu found in 1984 (Peterson, 1992, 2005). However, based on the data we analyzed, all three of these concepts, cosmopolitanism, cultural omnivorousness, and distinction, are related. All three help us understand the evolving national versus imported television preferences of Latin American audiences. Those in upper-middle or elite classes still want to show their cultural distinction, which is reflected in the data analyzed in Chaps. 4, 5, and 7. Straubhaar has observed it in practice among Brazilian graduate students in several seminars he taught in the mid- to late-2010s in a medium-sized city in the state of São Paulo. They would talk about how much they enjoyed Orange is the New Black or House of Cards on Netflix as a fairly obvious way of trying to show how culturally sophisticated they were, a classic display of both cultural and symbolic capitals. However, both cosmopolitanism and omnivorousness can also be used to demonstrate social distinction (Lindell, 2014). Cosmopolitanism may be evolving as a new form of cultural capital, and vice versa, to be used precisely to display social distinction (Lindell & Danielsson, 2017). And if we wanted to be a little provocative in our conclusions, we could argue that this combination of social status (upper-middle and elite classes), cosmopolitan attitudes, omnivorous preference for television from a wide variety of geographic and cultural sources, and an ongoing desire by social elites to display their distinction may be what has driven pay-TV subscriptions in Latin America and what is currently driving subscriptions to streaming media, such as Netflix and Amazon Prime. At the same time, we should not forget that most of the Latin American television audience, in the middle class and below, still tend to watch the genres of television that have developed in the region (telenovelas, variety shows, news, talk, comedy) or been adapted to it, such as imported formats like Big Brother (originally from the Netherlands). The twenty-first round of Big Brother 21, in Brazil, showing on TV Globo as we finish this writing, is dominating both ratings and media discussion along with the latest telenovelas and news shows. While Netflix, Amazon, and Disney+ may dominate the viewing of the upper-middle class, it has not yet become the mainstream of Latin American television.

8 CONCLUSION 

251

References Acosta-Alzuru, C. (2013). Melodrama, reality and crisis: The government–media relationship in Hugo Chávez’s Bolivarian revolution. International Journal of Cultural Studies, 17(3), 209–226. Anderson, B. (1983). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. New York: Verso. Beck, U. (2006). Cosmopolitan vision. Cambridge: Polity. Beltran, L. R. (1978). TV etchings in the minds of Latin Americans: Conservatism, materialism and conformism. Gazette, 24(1), 61–65. Benavides, O. H. (2008). Drugs, thugs, and divas: Telenovelas and Narco-dramas in Latin America. University of Texas Press. Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction. Harvard University Press, Cambridge Massachusetts. Boyd-Barrett, O. (1977). Media imperialism: Towards an international framework for the analysis of media systems. In J. E. A. Curran (Ed.), Mass Communication and Society. Arnold. Boyd Douglas, A., Straubhaar Joseph, D., & Lent John, A. (1989). Videocassette Recorders in the Third World. Longman. Dos Santos, T. (1978). Imperialismo y dependencia. México, DF Ediciones Era. Elkins, E. (2019). Algorithmic cosmopolitanism: on the global claims of digital entertainment platforms. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 36(4), 376–389. Espinosa-Medina, H. D., & Uribe-Jongbloed, E. (2017). Latin American contraflow in global entertainment media: Kingdom rush series and Zambo Dende as de-localised media products. Media International Australia, 163(1), 107–121. Ferreira, F. H. G., Messina, J., Rigolini, J., López-Calva, L.-F., Lugo, M. A., & Vakis, R. (2013). Economic mobility and the rise of the Latin American middle class. Washington, DC. http://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/ en/647651468053711367/pdf/Economic-­m obility-­a nd-­t he-­r ise-­o f-­t he-­ Latin-­American-­middle-­class.pdf Fox, E., & Waisbord, S. (2002). Latin politics, global media. In F. A. Waisbord (Ed.), Latin politics, global media (pp. 1–22). University of Texas at Austin. Germann Molz, J. (2011). Cosmopolitanism and Consumption. In M. Nowicka (Ed.), The Ashgate research companion to cosmopolitanism: Taylor and Francis. Hannerz, U. (1990). Cosmopolitans and Locals in World Culture. Theory, Culture & Society, 7(2), 237–251. Hoskins, C., & Mirus, R. (l988). Reasons for the US dominance of the international trade in television programmes. Media, Culture and Society, l0, 499–515. Jensen, P. M., & Jacobsen, U. C. (2020). Augmenting proximity theories: Including other proximities in the transnational travel of Danish television drama. Springer International Publishing, pp. 169–186.

252 

J. STRAUBHAAR ET AL.

Jin, D. Y. (2017). Global Digital Culture| Digital Platform as a Double-Edged Sword: How to Interpret Cultural Flows in the Platform Era (Vol. 11). Laing, D. (1986). The music industry and the ‘cultural imperialism’ thesis. Media, Culture, and Society, 8, 331–341. Lindell, J. (2014). Cosmopolitanism in a Mediatized World - The Social Stratification of Global Orientations. (PhD). Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden. Lindell, J., & Danielsson, M. (2017). Moulding Cultural Capital into Cosmopolitan Capital. In: De Gruyter Open. Lobato, R. (2019). Netflix Nations. New York University Press. Mattos, S. (1984). Advertising and government influences on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 203–220. McCabe, J., & Akass, K. (2008). It’s not TV, it’s HBO’s original programming. It’s not TV: Watching HBO in the post-television era, 83–93. Miller, T., Govil, N., McMurria, J., Maxwell, R., Wang, T., Shohat, E., & Corrigan, T. (2005). Global Hollywood 2. Pearson Longman. Penner, T. A., & Straubhaar, J. (2020). Títulos originais e licenciados com exclusividade no catálogo brasileiro da Netflix. Matrizes, 14(1), 125–149. https:// doi.org/10.11606/issn.1982-­8160.v14i1p125-­149 Peterson, R. A. (1992). Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. Poetics, 21(4), 243–258. Peterson, R. A. (2005). Problems in comparative research: The example of omnivorousness. Poetics, 33(5), 257–282. Pinon, J. (2019). Disruption and continuity on telenovela with the surge of a new hybrid prime-time fictional serial: The super series. Critical Studies in Television, 14(2), 204–221. Roncagliolo, R. (1995). Trade integration and communication networks in Latin America. Canadian Journal of Communications, 20(3). Sanders, J.  E. (2014). The vanguard of the Atlantic world: Creating modernity, nation, and democracy in nineteenth-century Latin America. Duke University Press. Schiller, H. I. (1969). Mass communication and American empire. Beacon. Schiller, H. I. (1991). Not yet the post‐imperialist era. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 8(1), 13–28. Schnitman, J. A. (1984). Film industries in Latin America – Dependency and development. Ablex. Schwoch, J. (1990). The American radio industry and its Latin American activities, 1939–1990. University of Illinois Press. Sinclair, J., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral Vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New Patterns in Global Television (pp. 1–15). New York: Oxford University Press.

8 CONCLUSION 

253

Sinclair, J. S., Jacka, E., & Cunningham, S. (1996). Peripheral Vision. In J. Sinclair, E. Jacka, & S. Cunningham (Eds.), New Patterns in Global Television (pp. 1–15). New York: Oxford University Press. Sinclair, J., & Straubhaar, J. (2013). Television industries in Latin America. BFI/Palgrave. Skrbis, Z., Kendall, G., & Woodward, I. (2004). Locating cosmopolitanism: Between humanist ideal and grounded social category. Theory, Culture & Society, 21(6), 115–136. Skrbis, Z., & Woodward, I. (2007). The ambivalence of ordinary cosmopolitanism: Investigating the limits of cosmopolitan openness. The Sociological Review, 55(4), 730–747. Straubhaar, J. D. (1981). The transformation of cultural dependency: The decline of American influence on the Brazilian television industry. Ph. D., Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University. Straubhaar, J. (1984). The decline of American influence on Brazilian television. Communication Research, 11(2), 221–240. Straubhaar, J. (1991). “Beyond Media Imperialism: Asymmetrical Interdependence and Cultural Proximity.” Critical Studies in Mass Communication (8): 39–59. Straubhaar, J. (2007). World Television: From Global to Local. Sage Publications. Straubhaar, J., Castro, D., & Duarte, L. G. (2019a). Class, access, and Netflix in Latin America: Transformation within a digital divide. Critical Studies in Television. Straubhaar, J. D., Castro, D., Duarte, L. G., & Spence, J. (2019b). Class, pay TV access and Netflix in Latin America: Transformation within a digital divide. Critical Studies in Television, 14(2), 233–254. https://doi.org/10.1177/ 1749602019837793 Szerszynski, B., & Urry, J. (2002). Cultures of cosmopolitanism. The Sociological Review, 50(4), 461–481. Tunstall, J. (2008). The media were American: US mass media in decline. Oxford University Press. Varis, T. (1974). Global traffic in television. In T. C. Smythe & G. A. Mastroianni (Eds.), Issues in broadcasting (pp. 372–380). Mayfield Publishing Co. Wilkinson, Kenton. (1995). Where culture, language and communication converge: The Latin-American cultural linguistic market. University of TexasAustin. PhD. Dissertation.

Index1

A Acosta-Alzuru, C., 23, 29, 58, 70, 237, 240 Action adventure, 77, 90, 237 Ad-supported, 38, 176 Advertising agencies, 54, 89 Aesthetic cosmopolitanism, 204, 213–215 Africa, 17, 62, 218, 237 Age of Internet television, 160 Algorithmic streaming, 161 Amazon Prime Video, 171, 172 América Móvil, 24, 26, 31, 38, 128, 172 Ampere, 171 Anderson, Benedict, 3, 61 Anderson, B., 61, 88, 212, 229, 238 Anglophone countries, 129, 167, 230, 248 Animation, 90 Antola, A., 2, 21, 50, 92

Antola, L., 74, 78 Appeal of the foreign, 88 Argentina, 4, 6, 17, 18, 23, 26–28, 33, 35–39, 49, 55, 57, 64, 65, 70, 74, 79, 94, 103, 113, 114, 124, 125, 127, 128, 130, 138, 140, 141, 152, 153, 166, 168, 173, 183–185, 191, 194, 223, 229, 237, 238, 240, 242, 243, 246 Asymmetrical interdependence, 179, 180 Audiences, 1, 3–4, 7–8, 14, 33–38, 49–79, 88, 94–103, 125, 128–130, 159, 163, 203–232, 238, 248–250 genre preferences, 16, 193, 246 habits, 18 preferences, 4, 7, 16, 52, 71, 74, 79, 88, 92, 221–229, 231, 239

 Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

1

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021 J. Straubhaar et al., From Telenovelas to Netflix: Transnational, Transverse Television in Latin America, New Directions in Latino American Cultures, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-77470-7

255

256 

INDEX

Authentic culture, 52, 214 Authoritarian populism, 88 Autoridad Nacional de Televisión (ANTV), 27 B Banal cosmopolitanism, 219, 220, 249 Barrier to entry, 124, 175 Beck, Ulrich, 8, 9, 203, 204, 208, 231, 249 Belize, 17 Beltran, L., 2, 5, 13, 14, 91, 241 Bielby, D. D., 63 Big data, 168, 169, 179, 181, 193, 194, 230, 246 Bolaño, C., 14 Bolsonaro, Jair, 133 Bondebjorg, 63, 92 Bourdieu, P., 5, 7–9, 64, 65, 87, 91, 95, 96, 98, 99, 102–104, 107, 108, 112, 132, 134–136, 147, 183, 188, 195, 203–207, 209–211, 217, 219, 230, 231, 243, 247–250 Boyd-Barrett, O., 7, 14, 50, 89, 241 Brazil, 2, 13, 49, 89, 124, 162, 163, 215, 237 Brazilian Bolsa Escolar, 132 Broadband, 22, 24, 34, 39, 55, 65, 78, 162, 163, 168, 181, 183, 184, 195, 209, 228, 243, 245, 248 Broadcast television, 17, 23, 26, 27, 33, 36, 37, 49–79, 89, 93, 94, 124, 125, 127, 137, 141, 162, 164, 167, 168, 170, 178, 229, 238, 243 Buonanno, M., 61, 63, 79, 92

C Cable and multichannel TV age, 160 Cable TV, 17, 50, 125, 127–129, 152, 173, 175, 176 Cadenatres, 125, 125n2 Canal 13 Chile, 27, 30 Canclini, N. G., 2, 14, 54, 206 Caracol, 23, 28, 190 Cardoso, F. H., 2, 13, 89 Carlos Slim, 26 Casa de las Flores, 188, 191, 193 Castro-Mariño, D., 123, 124, 152, 153 C-band satellite, 97, 129, 136, 149 Center-periphery domination, 52 Chavez Hugo, 29, 57 Chile, 17, 30–31, 33, 35–37, 55, 65, 70, 74, 79, 94, 107, 113, 114, 124, 127, 130–132, 138, 140, 152–154, 194, 223, 237, 240, 244, 246 Chilevisión or CHV, 30 China, 61, 150, 179 Chiquititas, 57 Cidade de Deus, 191 Cisneros, 28, 29 Clarin, 23, 27, 238 Claro TV, 31 Claro Video, 31, 172, 177 Classes A–E, 96 Class mobility, 135 Clientelism, 14, 15, 88 Club de Cuervos, 26, 185, 188, 191–194, 247 CNN, 6, 87, 104, 244 Colgate-Palmolive, 2, 16, 53 Colombia, 6, 7, 16–18, 21, 23, 27–28, 33, 35–38, 49, 55, 57–59, 64, 65, 67, 70, 78, 79, 101, 114, 124, 125, 127, 138, 140, 141, 152–154, 166, 168, 169, 183–186, 192, 194, 229, 237, 238, 240, 242, 246, 247

 INDEX 

Colonialism, 15, 62 Colonization, 61 Commercial media models, 15, 52 Commercial system of US television, 88–90 Commercial television, 4, 6, 19, 89, 124, 125, 242 Communications policies, 128 CONDECINE, 129 Consumer capitalism, 2, 52 Consumer societies, 53, 89, 91 Consumption, 33, 34, 50, 52, 54, 65, 96, 111, 123, 133, 134, 152, 160, 166, 186–188, 205–208, 211–213, 215–217, 219–222, 225, 227, 228, 231, 249 Content metadata, 168 Content producer, 169, 186 Co-production, 13, 16, 59, 74, 163, 169, 170, 194, 246, 247 Corporatism, 15, 88 Correa, Rafael, 32 Cosmopolitan attitudes, 33, 207, 208, 210, 222, 225, 226, 231, 232, 245, 249, 250 Cosmopolitan audience, 19, 248–250 Cosmopolitan citizenship, 211 Cosmopolitan condition, 211 Cosmopolitan disposition, 204, 209, 210, 213, 215 Cosmopolitanism, 8, 9, 16, 22, 99, 116, 160, 181, 183, 186, 203–232, 249, 250 Counter-flow, 160, 168 Crises as a routine, 123 Cuba, 16, 19, 52–54 Cultural and public diplomacy, 95 Cultural capital, 6–9, 18, 22, 59, 64, 66, 75, 78, 91, 95, 104–110, 108n3, 112, 114, 116, 124, 132, 134–136, 144, 146–148, 154,

257

160, 162, 181, 182, 195, 203–207, 210, 212, 213, 216–219, 231, 232, 243–245, 248–250 Cultural dependency, 7, 13, 51, 91, 94 Cultural discount, 60, 61, 102, 239 Cultural distinction, 8, 16, 91, 187, 188, 195, 203, 206, 219, 232, 247, 250 Cultural hybridity, 54 Cultural imperialism, 2, 5, 14, 52–53, 76, 90–93, 178, 179, 230, 241, 246, 248 Cultural industry, 14, 53, 60, 61, 206, 212, 241 Cultural-linguistic region, 59, 62–63, 76 Cultural omnivores, 8, 204, 206, 212–214, 216, 217, 227, 231, 245, 249, 250 Cultural proximity, 7, 8, 17, 49–51, 59–66, 68, 74–79, 87, 102, 116, 124, 129, 136, 147, 148, 160, 163, 178, 182, 223, 224, 227, 229, 238–241 Cultural studies, 3, 15 D Dallas, 50, 97, 98, 184, 239 Dependence, 13, 91 Dependency, 2, 5, 7, 15, 28, 51–53, 76, 91, 94–97, 179, 215, 231, 249 Dependent development, 13, 15, 89, 91 Deregulation, 17 Developing countries, 52, 135, 180, 182, 215 Direct-broadcast satellite (DBS), 129 Direct investment, 51

258 

INDEX

Direct-to-home (DTH), 29, 36, 38, 127, 129, 130, 130n3, 242 DirecTV, 24, 29–31, 37, 97, 130, 175, 176 Discovery Channel, 37, 127 Dish, 26, 128, 130n3, 155, 175 Disjunctive, 52 Disney, 1, 7, 91, 170, 171, 176, 203, 217 Disney+, 6, 159, 165, 171, 177, 178, 213, 230, 246, 250 Dispositions, 77, 95, 96, 99, 103, 111, 112, 134, 204, 205, 209, 210, 213, 215, 217, 221, 222, 225 Disposition to be interested in foreign culture, 96 Dominican Republic, 17, 60, 124, 135 Dorfman, A., 2, 14, 91 Dos Santos, Theotonio, 5, 14, 91, 94, 96, 204, 216, 231, 249 Drama series, 90, 97, 239, 240 Dramatic series, 49, 58–59, 240, 247–248 Duarte, F., 87, 166 Duarte, L. G., 15, 28, 29, 37, 64, 97, 123, 124, 128, 129, 173 Dubbing, 61, 128, 189, 244 Dumping, 52 E Eastern Europe, 17, 96, 242 Economic capital, 7–9, 22, 64–66, 75, 78, 87, 96, 98, 103, 107–112, 116, 134–136, 144, 147, 148, 183, 188, 243, 244 Economic crisis, 123, 124 Economic downturn of the last five years, 152 Economic mobility, 78, 130, 184

Ecuador, 32–33, 35–37, 55, 65, 70, 74, 79, 124, 140, 152, 239, 240, 242 Ecuador TV, 32, 33 Editora Abril, 24, 37, 97, 127, 129 Educated audience, 76 El Chavo, 74, 171 El chavo del ocho, 55 El Derecho de Nacer, 54 Elite Brazilian media, 94 Elite culture, 96, 104, 206, 213, 215–218 Elites, 5, 7–9, 14, 16, 20, 22, 58, 65, 75, 76, 91, 94–96, 104, 116, 127–132, 152, 153, 163, 182, 195, 203–232, 241, 242, 247–250 El Señor de los Cielos, 59 Emilio Azcárraga Milmo, 125n1 Ensaio sobre a Cegueira, 191 Entrepreneurs, 15, 16, 54, 89 ESPN, 31, 129 European television programs, 66, 68, 102, 106, 107, 110, 112, 116, 222, 244 Export programs, 57, 237 F Family commercial empires, 88 Family media empires, 15 Fejes, F., 14, 89 Fernández, C., 14 Ferreira, F. H. G., 6, 8, 21, 34, 78, 107, 130, 242 Flows of television scripts/formats, 19 Flows of television shows, 2, 159, 161, 177 Foreign capital, 16, 89 Fox, 176, 177 Fox, E., 2, 4, 13, 20, 31, 51, 88, 141, 242

 INDEX 

Fox Latinoamerica, 31 Fox Play, 31 Frankfurt School, 14 Free trade, 51, 79 Free Video on Demand, 173 Friedman, Sam, 182, 206, 217 G Garcia Canclini, N., 2 Garmendia, 166 GDP, 130, 134 Genre analysis, 15 Geo-cultural regions, 62–63, 78, 247 Gitlin, T., 63, 91, 92 Globally based streaming television, 16 GloboPlay, 7, 173, 177, 246 Globosat, 129 Glocalize, 169 González-Hernández, David, 56 Gossip programs, 127 Grammar of transnationalism, 187, 188, 190 Gratify needs, 97 Green Frontier, 192 Grupo Clarín, 27, 128 Guback, T., 4, 50 H Habitus, 111, 112, 114, 134, 209 Hallin, B., 181 Hallin, D. C., 14 Hannerz, Ulf, 8, 203, 207, 210, 219–221, 231, 249 Harrington, C. L., 63 HBO, 6, 13, 16, 22, 29, 37, 38, 87, 91, 164, 165, 170–173, 175, 188, 193, 195, 247 HBO Go, 31, 171–173, 176, 227

259

Hedonic good, 153 Highbrow, 127, 205, 212, 213, 216, 217, 227 Higher education, 95n1, 96, 104, 106, 107, 132, 136, 142, 147, 213, 244 Hollywood, 3–5, 50, 63, 90, 161, 170, 178, 186, 194, 218, 246, 247 Homogenization of culture, 52 Hybrid development, 14, 54 Hybridity, 54, 206, 208 I Illegal, 163, 173, 177 Imagen TV, 25, 26 Imaginative travel, 211 Imagined communities, 3, 15, 61, 210, 218, 229, 238 Imagined national communities, 61 Imperialism, 2, 3, 7, 14, 15, 52–53, 88, 90–93, 97, 159, 160, 168, 177–179, 194, 230, 241, 246–248 Imperialism theories, 2, 5, 52, 76, 90 Income distribution, 65, 126 Independents, 9, 25, 27, 38, 129, 170, 171, 175, 176, 180 Independent subscriptions, 177 Inflow of US programming, 88 Institutional subscriptions, 176 Instituto Brasileiro de Opinião Pública e Estatística (IBOPE), 33, 65, 154 Internet penetration, 22, 38, 39, 77 Investment opportunities in television, 90 Ito, Y., 61 iTunes, 9, 38, 173, 176, 177 Iwabuchi, K., 52, 62, 75–77, 79

260 

INDEX

J Japan, 2, 61, 62, 146, 167, 170, 177, 181, 237 Jenkins, Henry, 3, 220, 221 Jin, D. Y., 7, 178, 179, 194, 230, 247, 248 K Kantar Media, 4, 33, 65, 67, 136, 136n5 Katz, E., 61, 97, 98, 182 Korean melodrama, 62 Kottak, Conrad, 60 L La Pastina, 53, 62, 91, 93–94 La Reina del Sur, 59 Latin America, 1, 4–6, 13, 17–22, 49, 50, 58–59, 87, 98–99, 123–127, 130–133, 159, 171–173, 184–187, 190–193, 203, 215–219, 237 Latin American political economy of media, 14 Latin American television, 1, 2, 7, 13, 51, 53, 69, 74, 77, 87, 88, 92, 116, 184, 242, 250 Liberalization of competition by private networks, 17 Liberty Media, 97, 129 Linguistic capital, 7, 8, 64, 67, 75, 78, 87, 96, 99, 103, 107, 110–116, 204, 230, 244, 245, 248 Local adaptations, 52 Lopes, M. V. I., 17, 54, 55, 62, 90, 93, 125, 134, 173 Los ricos también lloran, 56 Lotz, A. D., 22, 64, 103 Lower-middle class, 6, 8, 24, 36, 51, 64, 65, 78, 93, 98, 107, 110, 125, 131–134, 137, 139, 140, 147, 154, 184, 242–243

Lusophone Africa, 62, 237 Lusophone linguistic space, 62 M Macedo, Edir, 24 Malú Mulher, 58 Martin-Barbero, J., 3, 14, 54, 56, 206 Marx, 51 Mass culture, 60 Mattelart, A., 6, 14, 54, 55, 97 Mattelart, M., 54, 55 Mattos, S., 2, 53, 89, 238 Mazziotti, N., 3, 56, 57 Media imperialism, 2, 7, 14, 88, 159, 160, 168, 177–178, 241 Media industry studies, 15 Megacable, 25, 26, 129 Metropolitan area, 8, 34, 37n2, 66, 76, 99, 99n2, 124, 132, 136, 138 Mexican Progresa/Oportunidades, 132 Mexico, 2, 4, 7, 9, 13, 14, 16, 19, 23, 25–27, 33–38, 37n2, 49–51, 53, 55, 56, 58–60, 62, 64–66, 70, 74, 78, 79, 90, 97, 101, 107, 113, 114, 124, 125, 127–129, 130n3, 133, 140, 152–154, 165, 166, 168, 171, 173, 175, 183–186, 190, 192, 194, 209, 229, 237, 238, 240, 242–244, 246, 247 Miceli, S., 3, 15 Middle classes, 1, 5, 6, 21, 22, 24, 34, 49, 51, 55, 58, 64, 79, 95, 98, 107, 108, 123, 125, 125n1, 130–134, 137, 147, 162, 178, 203–232, 242, 248, 250 Middle-class growth, 130 Middle East, 17, 18, 62, 242 MMDS, 129, 137 Monroe Doctrine, 88, 241 Movistar, 30, 31, 176

 INDEX 

MTV, 6, 18, 19, 37, 87, 115, 116, 129 MTV Brazil, 18 Mulan, 170 Multichannel penetration, 26, 30, 35, 65, 98, 101, 103, 135–144, 154, 242 Multichannel television, 19n1, 27, 30, 33, 35, 38, 64, 67, 73, 75, 99, 107, 128, 134, 135, 137, 140, 146–150, 223, 240, 242–244 Multilingualism, 189–190, 195, 248 Multimedios, 25 Multiple mobilities, 204, 211–212 Multiplicity, 162, 165, 177, 179, 194, 208, 247 Murdoch, Rupert, 36, 129, 130 N Narconovelas, 57–59 Narcos, 164, 169, 189, 191, 192 National broadcast networks, 21, 78 National elites, 91 National Geographic Play, 177 Nationalism, 4, 179, 220 Nationalized cultural capital, 59 Nationally developed genres, 21 National production, 18, 21, 29, 31, 32, 49, 53–55, 59, 74, 76–78, 161, 170, 186, 194, 229, 238, 242, 243, 246 National programming, 4, 5, 17, 20, 21, 33, 49, 53, 59–61, 63, 68, 71–74, 76, 79, 87, 92, 104, 128, 136, 147, 204, 239, 240 National television industry, 15 Nation-state, 15, 16, 19, 88, 212 Neocolonial influence of the US, 88 Neo-liberalism, 14 NET Brasil, 24, 129 Netflix, 1, 6, 7, 9, 13, 15, 16, 19, 22, 26, 31, 38, 39, 49, 77, 87, 93,

261

153, 159–195, 203–232, 245–248, 250 Netflix Original, 169, 185, 186, 190, 191, 194, 247 Network television age, 160 New middle class, 34, 108, 123–155 News Corporation, 36 Niche audience, 18 Nordenstreng, K., 2, 5, 17, 21, 50, 92, 238 O Obitel, 23, 25, 26, 28–31, 167 Oliveira, O. S. D., 13, 17, 52, 53 O Mecanismo, 191 Omnivorous, 206, 207, 212, 222, 232, 250 Open TV networks, 175 Orozco Gomez, G., 36, 55, 56, 125, 128, 130 OTT, 64, 134, 162, 172, 174 Over-the-air television, 23, 25, 28, 31, 127 P Paldan, L., 76 Panhumanity, 211 Patrimonialism, 15 Paxman, A., 14 Pay-TV, 1, 6, 8, 16, 18, 19, 19n1, 21, 22, 24–30, 33, 35–38, 37n2, 49, 55, 60, 64, 65, 77, 78, 87, 91, 93, 96–99, 103, 109, 116, 123–155, 161–165, 168, 171–173, 176, 177, 183, 184, 193, 194, 229, 230, 232, 242–243, 245, 247, 250 distributors, 175, 176 programmers, 175, 176 Per-capita daily income, 130

262 

INDEX

Peripheral cosmopolitanism, 204, 214–215 Peron, 26, 141 Peronist, 26, 127 Peru, 21, 31–33, 35–37, 39, 55, 65, 68, 70, 74, 76, 78, 79, 101, 103, 113, 124, 130, 131, 138, 140, 141, 152, 154, 223, 239, 240 Peterson, Richard A., 212 Pew, 125, 126 Phelps/Granier Group, 28, 29 Piñon, J., 23, 27, 28, 58, 59, 238, 247 Platform imperialism, 7, 178–179, 194, 230, 247, 248 Political economy, 2, 14, 15, 52, 179 Political parallelism, 14 Political patrimonialism, 14 Pool, 90 Pop cosmopolitanism, 220, 221 Populist entertainment, 125 Portugal, 17, 62, 94, 96, 237, 241 Post-colonial era, 94 Post-colonial Latin America, 88, 179, 215 Post-colonial legacy, 88 Post-colonial power, 5, 95 Postmodernism, 190 Prime time, 18, 21, 50, 53–56, 60, 73, 92, 93, 238 Prime time melodramas, 50 Privatization, 17, 25, 27, 30 Producers, 2–4, 13, 15–17, 19, 23, 26–28, 49, 50, 53–55, 57, 59, 62, 63, 70, 74, 77, 90, 129, 165, 166, 169, 175, 179, 186, 187, 189, 191, 193, 195, 229, 230, 238, 240, 242, 247, 248 Production values, 50, 52 Programmers, 15, 16, 129, 173, 175, 176 Public broadcasting, 127 Purchasing power parity, 126, 130

Q Quality TV, 170, 187, 188, 190, 195, 247, 248 R RCN, 23, 28 RCTV, 29, 57, 70, 190 Reality shows, 26, 127, 191 Rede Bandeirantes, 167 RedeTV, 167 Red Televisiva Megavisión or MEGA, 30 Regional cultural proximity, 62, 87, 102 Regional flow of scripts, 55 Regionally developed genres, 21 Regional markets in television, 13 Regional television flow, 16, 21, 180, 194, 247 Reis, R., 6, 18, 64, 78, 98, 124 Rivero, Y. M., 2, 16, 20, 57 Rogers, E. M., 2, 21, 50, 74, 78, 92 Roma, 184 Roncagliolo, R., 4, 17, 21, 23, 57, 74, 237 S Sábado Gigante, 74 Salinas, R., 76 Santos, Silvio, 24 Satellite-based pay-TV, 15, 87 Satellite distribution, 18 Satellite television penetration, 18 Satellite TV channels, 17, 18, 51, 64, 68, 78, 88, 93, 96, 97, 124, 137, 138, 153, 161, 162, 175, 241, 242 Schiller, D., 178 Schiller, H. I., 2, 5, 14, 50, 52, 53, 90, 91, 230, 241, 248

 INDEX 

SeAC Law, 129 Segmenting audiences, 21 Serial narrative, 54 Siempre en Domingo, 74 Silicon Valley, 178 Silvio Santos, 24 Simplemente María, 56 Sinclair, J., 1, 2, 4, 5, 13, 15–18, 20, 21, 24, 27, 50, 53, 56, 57, 60–63, 73, 74, 78, 88–90, 92, 103, 124, 136, 165, 182, 186, 194, 224, 229, 237, 238, 241, 242, 247 Sistema Brasileira de Televisão (SBT), 5, 23, 24, 38, 93, 125, 173, 175 SKY Brasil, 129 Sky Latin America, 97, 129 SKY México, 36, 129 Social capital, 21, 102, 108, 132 Social class, 5, 9, 55, 63, 64, 75, 78, 91, 95n1, 96, 98, 107, 123–127, 131, 153, 154, 182, 228, 242, 243 Social mobility, 54, 55, 96, 134, 217 Social stratification, 34, 111, 124, 213, 214 Socioeconomic status, 8, 66, 78, 108, 127, 137, 153, 212, 215, 229 Sodre, M., 3, 15 Spending power, 134 Spotify, 180, 220 Star system, 56 State-media interaction, 88 State-run media, 127 Straubhaar, J. D., 1–5, 7, 13–21, 23, 24, 50–60, 62, 64, 65, 73–78, 87–90, 92–97, 103, 116, 123, 124, 127, 129, 135, 136, 136n5, 140, 147, 152–155, 165, 167, 177–179, 182, 183, 186, 194, 207, 222–224, 227, 229, 232, 237–239, 241–243, 245–248, 250

263

Streaming television, 6–7, 9, 15, 16, 38–40, 91, 159–195, 213, 230, 240, 242, 243, 245–248 Subscription-based television, 19n1, 21, 35, 36, 127, 163 Subscription expansions, 176 Subscription video on demand (SVOD), 9, 162, 163, 167, 172, 183 Subtitling, 61, 128, 163, 190, 244 Super series, 26, 58, 59, 195, 229, 238, 247 Symbolic capital, 98, 112, 134, 250 Syndicated survey, 124 Szerszynski, B., 203, 207–209, 211, 212, 231, 249 T Talk show, 15, 90 Taste cluster, 160, 182–183, 193, 230, 246 Taste communities, 161 Technology companies, 175, 176 Telecommunications companies, 26, 173, 175, 194, 247 Telefe, 27, 191 Telefónica, 9, 24, 27, 29, 31, 38, 128, 163, 165, 175, 176 Telemundo, 23, 28, 58, 59, 193, 229, 238 Telenovelas, 2–4, 6, 13, 15, 16, 20, 21, 24, 26–31, 33, 49, 50, 53–59, 62, 70, 72, 74, 77, 90, 92–94, 98, 99, 104, 125, 127, 161, 164, 170, 175, 185, 187, 188, 194, 195, 229, 230, 237–240, 246, 247, 250 Televisa, 5, 9, 13, 14, 17, 23, 25–28, 31, 36–38, 51, 53, 55, 56, 60, 74, 87, 97, 125, 125n1, 128, 129, 165, 173, 175, 176, 187, 188, 190, 194, 230, 237, 238, 247

264 

INDEX

Televisión Azteca, 25, 26, 125, 188, 190 Televisión Nacional de Chile (TVN), 30 TGI Latina, 8, 33–35, 49, 65–69, 77, 108, 131, 136–138, 136n5, 150, 204 TGR, 154 Third age of television, 160, 167 Third World countries, 51 3%, 35, 55, 134, 170, 177, 185, 191, 194, 247 Time-Life, 50, 89, 90, 241 Topography, 27, 128 Transaction, 176 Transaction Video on Demand, 173 Transnational cultural flow, 52 Transversality, 9, 160–162, 180, 181, 193, 194, 245, 246 Transverse flows, 159, 180–181 Trepte, S., 63 Tunstall, J., 52, 53, 177, 237 Turkish melodrama, 30, 31 Turkish TV imports, 26 TVA, 127 TV Globo, 3, 5, 13, 14, 17, 23, 37, 38, 50, 51, 53, 55, 58, 60, 87, 89, 90, 93, 94, 97, 125, 129, 146, 162, 165, 166, 173, 176, 185, 187, 190, 230, 237, 238, 246, 250 TV imports, 27 TV Record, 23, 24, 93, 125 U Unbalanced flow, 2, 7, 159, 160, 168, 177 Univision, 28, 193 Univores, 212

Upper-middle classes, 5–7, 21, 22, 58, 65, 75, 79, 91, 94–96, 98, 125, 127, 131, 132, 164, 184, 195, 203, 217, 229, 240–243, 247, 248, 250 Upscale, 127 Uruguay, 130 US advertising, 13, 15, 53, 54, 89 User-centric, 168 User-generated, 166 US ideologies, 15 US media models, 15, 52 US television exports, 5, 17, 23, 63 US television programs, 4, 14, 16, 21, 50, 55, 63–64, 66, 78, 79, 91, 99, 222 V Variety show, 3, 15, 24, 49, 53, 74, 90, 93, 229, 238, 250 Varis, T., 2, 4, 5, 17, 21, 50, 92, 238, 241 VCRs, 18, 241 Venevisión, 23, 29, 37, 58, 70, 238 Venezuela, 4, 17, 21, 23, 28–29, 33, 35–37, 49, 55, 57, 65, 70, 71, 74, 76, 78, 79, 99, 101, 113, 114, 124, 131, 138, 152, 184, 191, 223, 237, 239, 240, 244 Virtual travel, 211 Viscasillas, G., 124 VoD, 9, 26, 31, 162, 173 W Waisbord, S., 14–16, 51, 59, 89, 114, 242 Wall to Wall Dallas, 50 Wallach, J., 3, 4, 50, 90 Wallerstein, I., 53, 215, 219

 INDEX 

Western Europe, 61, 63, 168, 171, 216, 237 Wilkinson, K., 63, 229, 238 Working class audiences, 51, 58, 93, 147 Working classes, 3, 93, 135 World Bank, 125, 130, 133, 154 World capitalist system, 53 Writers, 15, 16, 19, 97

Y Yo soy Betty la fea, 57 YouTube, 7, 9, 15, 21, 22, 31, 38, 87, 160, 164–168, 173, 177, 181, 227–229, 245 YouTubers, 165, 166 Yuya, 166

265