Influencers are often brought onto traditional television, but TikTok or YouTube content doesn't always translate well to broadcast.Sebastien Cote/iStockPhoto / Getty Images
Christina-Laia Vlahos is a television host, producer, and content creator based in Toronto.
With streaming platforms dominating media and social media flooding our feeds with short-form content, traditional television is in a fragile state. Cable subscriptions are declining, and broadcast audiences are shrinking.
Yet one group is still producing consistent, meaningful, and long-form content for TV: independent producers, many of whom come from Canada’s diverse ethnocultural communities.
These producers are not hobbyists or YouTubers trying to go mainstream. They are experienced content creators making full-format series with cultural, culinary, or regional significance. Their work supports local economies, employs production teams, and often promotes tourism and community engagement. In an era where broadcasters struggle to fill schedules with original programming, these creators are quietly delivering the high-quality content that cable still needs – and audiences still watch.
But despite their contributions, independent producers are largely excluded from consistent funding opportunities. They are forced to compete with massive production companies and well-resourced networks for the same limited pots of money – or left out altogether. The system, as it stands, does not recognize the value of the content they create, nor the sustainability challenges they face.
A case in point is my series Star Foodies, a culinary and travel series now entering its eighth season. The show explores food and culture across both Canada and Europe, highlighting small towns, local markets, and cultural heritage. It airs nationally and has garnered growing interest abroad. During negotiations for international distribution in Greece, broadcasters repeatedly asked to see more footage showcasing Canada’s beauty and diversity. The interest is there – but the production budget isn’t.
This contradiction reflects a missed opportunity. Independent shows are well positioned to serve as soft-power cultural exports, offering authentic, multilingual narratives that represent Canada abroad. And yet, there is no infrastructure in place to help creators meet that demand, much less scale their production to compete globally. It is a market-ready, proven format – but without support, it remains capped by financial limitations.
At the same time, broadcasters are looking in the wrong direction for solutions. Increasingly, influencers are being brought onto traditional television in hopes of converting their digital popularity into ratings. But content made for TikTok or YouTube rarely translates well to broadcast. Influencers succeed in fast-paced, algorithm-driven environments built around personality and immediacy. Their followers don’t migrate to cable. And the production demands of a 30-minute or 44-minute program – structure, narrative flow, hosting skill – are fundamentally different from those of a 30-second reel.
Television isn’t dying because the format is irrelevant. It’s suffering because original content is scarce, and the creators who are still passionate about it are being ignored. Independent producers are sustaining broadcast programming with niche, audience-driven formats – travel shows, culture docs, food series – yet they’re unsupported by a funding system designed around scale and corporate reach.
Canada isn’t alone in this problem, but it is behind in solving it. In other countries, like Britain and Australia, public broadcasters work closely with independent producers, and dedicated grants ensure that culturally valuable content – even with modest reach – gets made. These countries understand that diverse voices, small-scale productions, and long-tail content are part of a healthy media ecosystem.
Here, those same creators are offering lifelines to the system – but receiving none in return.
If the Canadian government wants a future for its broadcast industry, it must begin by supporting those who are still creating for it. That means targeted funding for independent producers. It means valuing the export potential of culturally rich formats. And it means recognizing that not all content is created for Instagram.
The future of Canadian television will not be built on viral fame. It will be built on creators who still believe in the power of public programming – and who continue to deliver, even as they’re told there’s no room for them in the system they help sustain.