What Netflix Can Teach Us About How To Work

In my pre-Y2K teenage years, I thought it was absolutely ridiculous that you couldn't just pay for the channels you actually watched rather than the whole cable kit and kaboodle. I signed up for the DVD version of Netflix early, and my inner completionist reveled in the ability to slowly make my way through Stargate SG-1 and Farscape one disc at a time. I guess it wasn't until about 2012 that I finally "cut the cord," a move made infinitely easier for me by the launch of HBO Go two years prior.

Today, I pay for HBO Max, Apple TV+, Hulu, Netflix, Peacock, and Prime Video (with the Starz add-on). I hope I'm not forgetting anything—because if I am, it means I'm paying even more for shows I don't watch. I'm pretty much in the same place I was in 1999—only with more shows about cupcakes, cults, and serial homicide.

"There's nothing to watch" seems to be the general consensus regarding television today.

This is even though studios are producing more scripted television than ever. And unscripted TV? Well, it seems some new, highly derivative competition appears daily.

I mean, obviously, there are things to watch. Just very little I want to watch. There are plenty of things that might be barely tolerable but very little to get excited about.

Why has the "golden age of television" become such a dystopic disaster?

I've listened to several discussions about how peak TV turned into "nothing to watch" TV and why it's likely to continue (or worsen). The Politics of Everything covered it. Tech Won't Save Us dove in. Slate got in on the act, too.

From what I've learned, it seems that the streaming platforms have learned to game the system. They figured out how to woo people onto their subscriber rolls. Then they figured out how to produce content that keeps those people watching. And then, they learned how to spend less and less on that content. They stopped taking creative risks and started maximizing the numbers.

I'm painting with a broad brush here. There has been excellent television made in the last few years. But the amount one has to wade through to find those options is vast.

Television is and always has been a commercial endeavor. The vast majority of shows are governed more by the market than they are by a grand creative vision. But television's market logic doesn't preclude its creative undertone. Or, at least, it doesn't have to—HBO provides a relevant case study.

Here's where I need to make an abrupt transition into work.

"Much of the bullshitization of real jobs, I would say, and much of the reason for the expansion of the bullshit sector more generally, is a direct result of the desire to quantify the unquantifiable."

— David Graeber (emphasis added)

The bullshitization of television is the result of streaming platforms quantifying the unquantifiable. They run their reports (e.g., watch time, user churn, production expense reports, etc.) and determine how to scratch just enough of the itch that keeps people paying.

Streaming services like Netflix work with a specific set of goals (e.g., new users per month or minutes of watch time per week) and make decisions that optimize for those goals. As a result, we have "nothing to watch." After all, you'll make a very different decision about what new show to greenlight based on maximizing watch time versus taking a creative risk.

Similarly, management science taught us how to quantify every aspect of our work. We learn what metrics to pay attention to. We watch the clock to make sure we're as productive as possible. We look at our profit margins to determine what expenses we can prune.

We fret about having "done nothing" at the end of the day not because we've actually done nothing but because either nothing we've done resembles quantifiable, goal-oriented work, or we subconsciously recognize that all of the quantifiable, goal-oriented work we did do isn't actually producing the outcomes we're really after.

Like television, most work will need to satisfy market logic first. But does every aspect of our work have to obey a strict system of objective inputs and outputs? Can we leave room for the creative, collaborative, and innovative undertones of work?

I argue that not only can we leave room for unquantifiable work, but we must leave room for unquantifiable work.

What good are we doing if our work revolves around churning out a quantifiable but ultimately non-valuable result? How can we solve real problems (big or small) if we're more concerned with checking boxes than understanding the challenge in front of us?

Quantification is seductive—but unsatisfying. Quantified work is easy to justify to a boss or client—but creatively stultifying.

Quantification has a place in our work—but unquantifiable work must have a place, too.

The key to unquantifiable work is practice.

If you're ready to prioritize more creative, meaningful, and generative work, join me for Work In Practice. We start tomorrow!