The CRTC We Hate, the CRTC We Need

Channeling its energy towards access issues may be the best way forward for the regulator.

The CRTC clearly has an image problem. It seems most people think that it’s doing a bad job. The recent announcement of a shift in broadcasting policy – which will see broadcasters charging cable companies for their signals and Canadian cable bills likely on the rise, assuming all of this is approved by the courts – is the latest chapter in a long history of disappointment with the goings-on over in a non-descript office building in Gatineau.

Almost everyone thinks the CRTC has failed in some way, even if they disagree on what that “way” is. It’s seen as a handmaiden for industry or a symbol of the nanny state; a defender of culture or a bystander in Canada’s “Americanization.” Now, some feel the internet makes the CRTC – and the idea of regulation itself – an outmoded idea, a dinosaur from the age of old media, and that the CRTC should nobly step aside.

But should we allow that to happen? The short answer is no.

Broadcasting is still a business that makes use of frequencies that are public, and policies need to be in place to ensure that those who use them do so properly. While we may not need to regulate the content of the internet, a regulator is necessary to ensure that those who provide access to the abundance of digital life – internet service providers, cable companies, telephone companies – continue to do so in a manner that’s fair to all Canadians.

But would a different kind of CRTC be a step in the right direction?

Consider the playbook the CRTC has been given. The Broadcasting Act, last amended in the early 1990s, is the piece of legislation that provides the framework for Canada’s broadcasting policies and sets out the mandate for the CRTC.

Two themes can be found in the language of the act. The first we’ll characterize as liberal. It says that Canada’s broadcasting system is a public service, that it must provide services to the different regions of the country, and that it is to provide an opportunity for Canadians to be exposed to programs on Canadian subjects. This is mostly run-of-the-mill stuff for communications regulators in many countries where broadcasting is regulated in a manner reflective of the values of the society at large: values such as tolerance, diversity, and access.

Things get tricky when it comes to the second theme. Let’s characterize it as nationalist. In the act, we find that broadcasting in Canada is “essential to the maintenance and enhancement of national identity and cultural sovereignty.” Broadcasting, then, serves as a vehicle for the promotion of national identity, and it sees the country’s creative community as vital contributors to the creation of a “shared national consciousness.”

In short, we regulate the system not only to ensure that it’s used responsibly, but also in the name of protecting who we are.

The liberal and nationalist themes of Canadian broadcasting policy often work at cross-purposes. Our broadcasting policies exist in the name of producing diversity but often try to steer Canadians towards programming that works in the national interest. This condition – one that permits access but insures Canadian-ness – can be frustrating for all involved because it politicizes something that it is commonly associated with: pleasure or relaxation. Since television-watching is seen in television policy as an expression of citizenship, this idea frames the conditions under which broadcasters, distributors, producers, and advertisers present themselves to the public.

This is why decisions to increase or decrease content requirements, or to change the way programs are categorized or funded, carries a certain political charge. Those changes have industrial effects to be sure, but they are often presented to the public in cultural terms.

The news of potentially higher cable and satellite bills carries a piquant sting against the backdrop of a wired world. In cyberspace we find a plethora of culture, much of it produced outside of the regulatory loop, available on demand, and at the low, low price of, well, nothing. The ideas of consumer sovereignty and customizability offered by the internet clash with the restrictive measures – both liberal and nationalist – that result from Canada’s regulatory policies.

So what would happen if we changed things a little? What if we could separate the liberal aspects of broadcasting policy from the nationalist ones?

The emergence of the internet and digital forms of distribution that exist outside of the CRTC’s purview should be liberating to the regulator, not seen as a threat to its existence. With so much culture from all over the world available to Canadians, ensuring access to that culture becomes that much more important. The shared experience the CRTC should try to create, then, is not unity through television, but rather, unity through access – making sure that it is affordable and that Canadians have opportunities to participate.

Free from the burden of nation building, the CRTC could get back to the basics – ensuring that Canadians have access to a wide range of programming that appeals to different regional and linguistic interests via the systems that it does oversee. These measures speak to our diversity but are stripped of the connotations of a culture under threat.

This shift in thinking may continue to make life frustrating for all involved, but making everyone just a little bit unhappy is the cross a regulator must bear in order to ensure the responsible use of the airwaves. However, moving away from defence and towards issues of access may help CRTC gain some much-needed credibility – and perhaps a few less brickbats – as it seeks out ways to make sense of regulating an environment characterized by media abundance.