It's time for Part 2 of my coverage of the gathering of YouTube celebs and enthusiasts known as Buffer Festival. (See Part 1 here.)
In this instalment you'll meet a trio of YouTubers who started out as 1-man / 1-woman operations and now net from several thousand to several million views per day each.
Treading on what was once the exclusive domain of public broadcasting, YouTubers Craig Benzine,Dianna Cowern and Matt Santoro all started uploading videos for nothing more than the heck of it. Read more here.
YouTuber Matt Santoro asks questions millions want the answers to
Where industry once created stars, now it often follows, as is the case with the people-powered celebs of the Internet who are then pursued by broadcasters, movie studios, book publishers, and brands.
Click here for the blog post I wrote on the topic, featuring an interview with Corey Vidal, founder of Buffer Festival, an annual conference, get together, and fan event for YouTubers...and the people who love them.
Corey Vidal, 3rd from left, holds court with assorted stars of the YouTube small screen at Buffer Festival
source:www.bufferfestival.com
Like many people, I, at one time, had an addiction to the TV show Intervention.I took my first hit quite by accident. It was while channel surfing one night ten years ago and this guy, Gabe the gambler, appeared on my screen. How the heck could I not be transfixed. This kind of stuff was simply not show on television back then.
10 years later Transfixed
would be the name given to a symposium that accompanied the Rendezvous With Madness film festival, currently in progress in Toronto. Both festival and
symposium are devoted to the (un?)holy trinity of mental health, addictions,
and their depictions in themedia.
I was so there.
The symposium was a day long panel event, but in reality
more like a live talk show, where discussants and audience members were able to
take in the frankly quite harrowing tales of addiction from people ranging from a one-time NHL star to a punk rock icon, and to do so alongside mental health professionals and media studies
professors. If that doesn’t hit all the buttons, I don’t know what does.
Source: www.rendezvouswithmadness.com
The narratives of despair and despondency speak for themselves; though, as one panelist noted, their over-availability in the media can turn them into a perverse form of entertainment, as opposed to cautionary tales.
Having the media
studies interest/bias that I do, I wanted to share a few highlights from the
day’s discussions. Some truly penetrating insights were shared around the
collision of a 24/7 media and technology-enabled world and portrayals of
addiction -- whether they originate from fictional shows or movies or from reality TV.
Referencing academic work on the topic of ‘subalterns’, or
those who exists outside the domains of conventional power structures, Scott Henderson, a
professor at Brock University, spoke of the concept of immediacy, of everything being at
our fingertips at all times. Immediacy, said Henderson, used to be the domain of the
marginalized, pointing out that those with status or privilege pursued the
stable, not the unknown. Immediacy and notions of taste were once at cross-purposes with each other.
Henderson also made an astute observation about auto-play
as now being a default setting on YouTube and Netflix – that’s when the videos
or shows just keep on going, unless you actually budget from the couch and do
something to stop the process. What this does, as Henderson noted, is
create a media environment with no beginning or end. It’s an ongoing carousel
of programming in which we are constantly tempted by the allure of a better
‘something else’. As a result, it is not unusual for people to spend an entire
evening clicking everything but watching nothing.More choice doesn’t have to necessarily mean
less control, of course, but the behaviour that many of us are engaging in is
undeniable.
Ken Rogers, a faculty member at York University’s School of
the Arts, Media, Performance and Design, spends a lot of time thinking about
the relationship between media formats and their effect on our attention. Heck,
he’s written a book on the topic. Rogers drew an interesting analogy between our use of
media products and the pharmaceutical industry, where the same drug -- particularly in the case of opiates -- that is the cure can also be the culprit.
The difference, then, is the context of consumption. He went on to talk about freemium games, which are online games you can play for free, and
then opt to buy additional tools and widgets to enhance your game play. If you’ve ever been pulled in by more rounds than you had
expected of Angry Birds, Farmville, or Candy Crush you are likely nodding in
agreement, acknowledging the slippery slope between playing a game, and having it play you.
If this is sounding foreign to you it may be worth considering this thing called ‘the grind’,
which is central to the design of many video games. The idea is that the flow of the game play is structured so
that events happen that provide our brains with jolts of dopamine, so that we
not only keep playing, but that we want to step up the level of game play,
which is only possible, of course, by buying the additional tools or ‘lives’,
so you can keep on slingshotting rocks at birds or obsessively lining up
chocolate squares on your screen.
As Rogers put it, we think of attention as something that we own, that is ours, when in fact it is something that is transactional. We trade it for other things, and ideally the trade-off is a deal that is good for us, but as is the case with most deals, caveat emptor.
It is “raucous
and…conversationally rich…and stupidly comforting”, wrote Nicholas Quah, describing the singular nature of podcasts in HotPod, his newsletter on the dramatic
changes taking place in the world of direct to listener audio production aka podcasting. And it is now into its third wave, according to people who got their feet wet during wave one of the podcast revolution. We'll hear from a group of these early waders shortly, but first a quick surf through the chronology of the audio format that broke free from the confines of broadcasting formats and the things with knobs we came to know in our homes, cars, and workplaces.
2003- 2008
Wave 1.0
The pioneers doing the
homesteading, without much in the way of commercial intentions or aspirations. Apple incorporates a
podcasting platform into iTunes midway through 2005, making it a built in
feature for the at first tens of millions, then later hundreds of millions, of
iPods in circulation. During this period the first iPhone was released (June 2007), creating another
‘baked in’ environment for podcast distribution and consumption.
Serial
– the most listened to podcast in history, breaks the record for fastest time to five million downloads and leads to the public perception that 2014 is the year podcasting broke.The ecosystem of devices, creators, listeners, apps, distribution platforms, discovery via recommendation, sharing, and/or reviews reaches a point of maturity.
A panel comprised of esteemed
podcasting pioneers and practitioners, and moderated by Harvard Law School
clinical professor Chris Bavitz went back in time to recall the early
days of the technology, and the form, and went on to share their views on where
things are likely to go from here.
In 2003 blogging was the
first run of the podcast world; it had all the“crackle & pop of media” but with added enthusiasm and openness. Dave Winer, credited with
inventing blogging, thought what the world needs is an MP3 that
can be syndicated, and the result was the first podcast, that I hosted in 2003.
It coincided with the
beginning of the war on Iraq, when 70% of Americans thought
Saddam Hussein was behind 9/11. The New York Times should
have been running banner headlines, but it was bloggers and
podcasters saying things no one else was. It was the restoring of
public conversation that had become dilapidated, and this became a place to
have a reasonable conversation.
Benjamen Walker:
Between around 2004 and 2006
there was a lot of excitement in the field -- and lots of gigs as ‘podcast consultant'. Then came the dead time, and
now it’s the time of hype, with the money
trucks dumping money everywhere, but I think that rather than focusing on that we should be thinking about what
comes next.
The term 'podcasting' hits peak Google circa 2006
Jake Shapiro:
PRX (Public Radio Exchange, an online distribution platform for digital audio
and radio programs) was launched in Fall 2003. RSS for audio seemed like a
silly, trivial thing at that time.
Odeo, a podcasting platform founded in 2005, was the first interesting startup in the area
(started by ex Google employee Evan Williams). Ed. Note: And from the ashes of Odeo came a messaging app, first called Twttr. You probably know it by its more fully voweled name. That same year Apple caught on
to the surge of interest in podcasting (leading to the demise of Odeo) and incorporated a podcasting platform into
iTunes. This also built the technology into the 30 million iPods that were then out there, a number that would reach 400 million by the end of 2014.
The second wave of podcasting
was accidentally triggered by Apple, with the launch of the app store and the
iPhone. People realized ‘these aren’t just smartphones…these are radios!’ Audio had been a bad fit for the
web, but mobile could fix this, and mobile has become the way for billions of
devices to become a listening platform for audio.
Kerri Hoffman:
In 2003 we had a tagline we used for PRX: "Making public radio more public". It was a moment of having
direct to consumer consumption of media, news, stories, investigations – it’s
what podcasts have enabled
In 2014 we launched the Radiotopia network, to build a platform for
talent, people like Ben (Walker), and to consolidate the back office, things
like marketing, cross-promotion, and sales. Within 2 years we’ve
increased our growth by tenfold. This tells us a lot about the
public’s interest in consuming this kind of content, about the ubiquity of the
technology, and that the shows can survive. For a long time shows would
get to a certain size and then plateau. That’s why this is an exciting time for
what comes next.
Benjamen Walker:
Thinking about the waves of
podcasting --I see it more as a
Rashomon narrative -- all 3 happening at the same time: The technology story, with Dave Winer and RSS, the money story, in which Roman Mars hijacks
public radio model with his Kickstarter for 99% Invisible, and now the art form story.
I think
people that are making a lot of the great podcasts are people who left public
radio because they could do more on the outside than the inside; so I feel like
public radio isn’t taking the risks they once did.
I teach a podcasting course at a university in NYC and it’s interesting…none of the students want a job in public radio – they want to be the next Roman Mars. They want to do their own podcasts.
Kerri Hoffman:
The risk
point is a good one. Part of the future will be a lot more experimentation, a
lot more fails – and that’s not something that public radio is accustomed to. By the the time they launch a show they’ve done a million polls and pilots. In
podcasting, where it’s digital only, a network effect of like-minded shows and
talent is what’s going to get the lift.
Moderator Chris Bavitz:
Are
podcasters now playing more to advertisers? Is it becoming a more commercial
medium?
Kerri Hoffman:
The producers
we work with can always say no to advertisers. What advertisers are waking
up to is that listeners are selecting, they’re subscribing…they’re a more
dedicated fan base, and the advertisers are waking up to that reality. Since we
work in both broadcast and podcast we’ve seen a shift of some of the dollars
from the broadcast to the podcast side…and that wasn’t happening even 2 to 3 years ago.
Benjamen Walker:
Advertisers
jumping on the hype train can benefit us all. The discovery piece is so
hard, with so many podcasts out there – some people hear an ad, according to
research, and think ‘oh, ok, this is a good podcast'...because it has ads on it.
Kerri Hoffman:
The power of
the micro donation (associated with podcasts) is a new thing, compared to the
public radio philanthropist, who you want to mature with you. With podcasts people
give 5 dollars or 10 dollars just because they’re in a moment…all of that has
really changed; that’s against standard fundraising practices.
Jake Shapiro:
Podcasting can transcend its public radio origins…the content, the technology, everything – the dominant white male techie crowd. We can now move beyond the constraints of the world of broadcasting. PRX was born
out of public radio institutions but to bridge the gap to something new. We
don’t have a tower, we’re built digital, for the web, but we still distribute broadcast
shows (e.g. The Moth).
We offer a platform, a back
office, and it’s an opportunity to incubate new shows. For example Radiolabstarted as something that was done after hours
at WNYC.
Part of the joy of the
Internet is to match passions to people. You don’t need to reach a million
people. You can do things that are really good and that are designed for small
audience.
Bonus Feature!
Click here for an interactive history of podcasting timeline
If there’s a more old school rock star than Steven Tyler of Aerosmith then please, bring him or her to my attention. Tyler & co. were the quintessential rock stars of the 70s...who are now themselves pushing 70. But even though we live in a time when things couldn't be less like the 70s -- with the stars of YouTube and Vine and Instagram stealing airtime from the usual suspects of years gone by -- Steven Tyler is more than keeping up. And that is today's mystery we're going to solve.
But first, a little history. Over 40 years ago the Bad Boys from Boston made their ascent to the rock and roll pantheon, and they were typical of the dissolute rock stars of the day. Along with the likes of Queen, Elton John, and Thin Lizzy, they lived in an alternate universe, one in which the usual laws of consequences, blood alcohol levels, or ratio of scarves to microphone stands did not apply. Until one day they did, then the band crashed, burned, and disappeared for most of the 80s, a narrative perfect for the Behind The Music treatment. You know the one, where the key of the background music changes from major to minor as band members go through battles with drugs, bandmates, wives, managers, the IRS, etc. But then at the end of the 80s everything changed, leaving skeptics slackjawed as the original band lineup engineered one of the unlikeliest and long lasting comebacks in bombastic rock history. 25 years later they’re one of the best selling bands of all time.
How did they do it? It’s a combination of many things, like their music appearing on mega-selling, demographic-spanning, movie soundtrack power ballads...
And in a move that cemented Steven Tyler as the outlandish rock star that every toddler, accountant, and grandparent in America could identify in a crowd, the demon of screamin’ took his place on judges row on American Idol.
Those are all the mass media plays for attention, and Steven Tyler has spent decades mastering those. What’s more interesting is how he has also mastered the micro-moments, the little bursts of promotional activity that require no journalists or publicists.
This past week, for example, he has netted millions of views across dozens of iPhone-captured videos during a band visit to Moscow. Tyler was hardly inconspicuous as he made his way through the city streets, but it was this impromptu duet with a busker that caught the world’s attention, with this video -- one of dozens of the event that were posted on YouTube -- clocking over 2 million views.
Earlier this summer Tyler did a brief walk on with an outdoor piano, delighting the townsfolk of Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada by tickling the ivories for a few moments as onlookers with their smartphones rushed to grab pictures and video.
So why is the one of the world's biggest rock stars taking to the streets to perform as a busker version of himself? Or to percussively back up others? Couldn't he be in the hotel spa, enjoying an exquisite meal, or just do one or two interviews with the major media outlets in the city he's visiting and call it a day? Of course he could, but it turns out Tyler intuitively understands the new logics of distributed media well, and these logics are the among the key guiding principles of Internet economics.
As we move from a world of perfect, crafted media moments to imperfect, spontaneous ones Steven Tyler has figured out how to not only go with the flow, but also feed it, and to do so in the most efficient way possible. He deploys his legions of fans, not the press, as his marketers and multipliers and in so doing succeeds on two levels: He satisfies the fans on the street by being an accessible 'man of the people', and he satisfies the mediasphere with content -- amateur smartphone video, selfies with fans -- that come across as authentic and organic, because, well, they are. They are the product of everyday people, not the industry. As hundreds of camera phones do the job that was once the exclusive domain of publicists and the press, Tyler demonstrates that today's unique power is in the thousands of small sparks that make up the always on, anyone-can-post, sharing-is-the-new-broadcasting world of media.
In these financially volatile times it's hard not to
be tempted by this guy. Yes, he’s the one who incessantly edges in between you and that YouTube
video you’re trying to watch, insisting he has the secret to wealth. And A Lamborghini. Plus a Ferrari. And don't forget the house in the Hollywood Hills.
So uniquely annoying is this finger pointing garage guy that we’ve all watched at
least 10 seconds of his video, and if you were being totally honest you'd admit to having watched more. By the way, he has a name. It’s Tai Lopez.
I must confess: At first I thought Tai Lopez was some kind of David Cross or Fred
Armisen-like character, promoting an upcoming show on Netflix. Or maybe it was some sort of branded content play, sponsored by a company or product, that would reveal itself in subsequent pre-roll videos as I made my around YouTube. But no, it turns out we must take him at face value. This king of the not-at-all-humble-brag is this decade's version of the informercial pitchman.
Ah, yes, informercials, those magical faux-shows that are too long to be commercials and too pushy or biased to be actual TV shows. Their formula: to present a problem/solution combo, generally overstating the gravity of the problem, and then providing a miraculous fix, for 2 or 3 easy payments of a price that ended in .99.
It's a drill we all became familiar with starting in the mid 1980s, when the problem of 'dead air' on television was solved with a new entry in the TV Guide schedule grid: 'paid programming'.
And so a new genre of advertising was born -- DRTV, or direct response television. The air time between 1 and 6 a.m, while less than optimal for reruns of sitcoms, movies, and talk shows, made for a great home for the marketers of Snuggies, Chia Pets, and the like. Perfect purchases to consider when you've become one with your couch, your lids are becoming heavier, and dialing a 1-800 number seems like a not bad idea.
As Seen On TV:
Infomercial offerings brought into physical world malls
The radical idea of DRTV was that there was no middleman or retailer involved. Goods would flow directly from the manufacturer to the consumer, first via 1-800 numbers and then via websites. And then in a kind of negation of the initial concept of DRTV, physical retail was introduced with the "As Seen on TV" stores in malls.
But what does all of this have to do with that 'here in my garage' guy?
Well, once again, the Internet completely shakes things up, and we can use the example of Tai Lopez to illustrate precisely how.
Whereas previously tens to hundreds of thousands were spent making infomercials that sang the praises of the blender to end all blenders, or dramatizations that illustrated how one's life would be improved by a blanket with sleeves, all a pitchman needs to do nowadays is rig his iPhone to a selfie stick. Production can be that basic. And on the Internet, less slick or formatted often beats polished and professional.
Additionally, there's no media buy involved this time around. That middle of the night time slot on your local television station in which you would broadcast your DRTV program cost thousands. Today, Tai Lopez just uploads his multiple hour path to riches videos directly to YouTube, and the cost to him? Nothing.
But how do people find these videos, in a world where hundreds of hours of videos are uploaded to YouTube every minute? The answer to this question is also why most of us know the guy in the garage pointing to his Lamborghini. It's the targeted pre-roll ad. Every time you watch something on YouTube, or use Google, or Gmail, or any of the other Google services, the system gets to know you better. It learns about things like your click history, your likes and dislikes, and your demographic profile -- and from a fusion of this data, specific ads are served to you. Based on the number of people who know his videos, and the number of times per day I see them, my hunch is that Tai Lopez has cast his net wide, not just at, e.g, 18-34 year old men, or urban-dwelling women who buy a lot of shoes online. Let's just say his media buy with Google/YouTube is substantial.
Tai Lopez energetically takes to YouTube
And people seem to be responding to this Tony Robbins of 2015. As of early September 2015 Tai Lopez has 258,000 subscribers and 13 million views for the portfolio of videos he's posted to YouTube. You can watch those for free. Just like you can go to the iTunes store and download 100 of his podcasts for free. Big deal, you might say...he's good at giving things away for free. But what he's really good at doing is saturating multiple platforms with content, and doing so at little cost to himself, for all those reasons described above. In the process Tai Lopez establishes his brand and -- are you sitting down -- basically creates infomercials for his informercials, and presumably makes some sales of his 'millionaire mentor' and 'mini MBA' programs along the way.
In parallel to the media horn of plenty for which the man himself is responsible, there's a world of Tai Lopez-themed content to be found online. He's discussed in detail on Reddit, where one commenter has given him the sobriquet of 'douchecanoe', and he's paid tribute to with memes and parodies, some of which merely poke fun at Lopez, some of which are in pretty bad taste, and others that reference other memes.
Though most of us are probably not going to end up as customers of Tai Lopez' make-a-million tutorials, if we take a few steps back there's much to be learned about the unique ability of the Internet to create value by way of the targeted, the interruptive, and even the off-putting.
The guys who would be Tai
December 2016 Update: 1.6 billion minutes of Lopez' videos have been watched online. How he did it, according to him (of course)
Picking up on the previous post that looked at some of the debates surrounding digital disintermediation, today on the blog we delve a bit deeper into the tensions that have emerged between the radical openness of Internet technologies and what can only be called the unlikely economic structures enabled by online platforms, or marketplaces.
There was a time, and it was not all that long ago, when the principles of business went more or less like this: a manufacturer made something at a cost of X, a distributor or wholesaler bought the item in bulk and then made it available to retailers for X + Y, who in turn marked up the item to X+Y+Z and sold it to customers. If the goods produced filled a market need in ways superior to competitors then the manufacturer could end up reasonably well-heeled. If the anyone in the chain misjudged the market they got saddled with a bunch of inventory they couldn’t sell. There was pretty much no way of knowing what was going to resonate with customers and what wasn’t. This was a world based on best guesses. It was also a world based on things, put into boxes, then wheeled onto trucks, then stored in warehouses, then shot out to retail outlets, where the customer, at long last, came face to face with the good and decided whether or not s/he would buy it.
- And in one of the better known examples, a business based on individuals renting their home, or a room within their home, while they themselves are in the home, to strangers, on a night-by-night basis
There are a million reasons why a rational person, in the pre-Internet sense of the term, would be inclined to think that none of these businesses would work. For starters, these are marketplaces of people unknown to each other, they are often transacting at a relatively low dollar level, the consumer is not incented to adequately care for the property being used, etc. etc.
All this brings to mind discussions I’ve had over the years with an old friend, who is an Ivy league MBA and who was living in the Bay Area during the first dot com boom of the mid 1990s. At that time she got called into several ‘litmus test’ meetings for these new things called eCommerce businesses, one of which was a company called eBay that was proposing to do the world’s biggest yard sale, but transacted online. She was the person in the room who argued vociferously that it would never work. Why? Because what systems are in place to ensure that the person in Wisconsin who wants to buy the toaster I put on this website will pay me? And how will they pay me? By check? And how do they know I”ll actually send the toaster? How does any of this make sense? And she wasn’t wrong….except in the perfect hindsight sense of the term. (We have since joked, many times, that she should make herself a t-shirt that reads “I said eBay wouldn’t work”).
Some have dubbed this phenomenon platform capitalism, a reference to the wildly successful slew of platform-based companies, or enterprises that build facilitating marketplaces as opposed to physical products or conventional services. These are the co’s that have figured out that facilitating access and communication, as opposed to owning real estate, or fleets of vehicles, or warehouses stocked with inventory, or even bearing the expenses of creating editorial content, is how the road to 21st century riches is paved.
So counterintuitive is this phenomenon to many that is has also been referred to as the WTF economy.
And so, the Internet has morphed from being the communal, we the people, cybertopia of the early 90s, to one which has become dominated by what can be understood as privately owned public spaces.
By inviting the public in for free, or more accurately for “free” (meaning strings are attached, and you trade things such as your online history and personal data for services and products delivered digitally), platform-based businesses are able to move large portions of the public away from an ownership-based economy or a subscription-based economy to one in which we can access as little or as much as we need, whenever and wherever we are, usually using an app on our phone as our control panel.
Disincentives for participation are removed and large-scale, global user bases in the millions to hundreds of millions (and beyond) can be built relatively quickly.
So powerful are some platforms that, for example, august news organizations such as the New York Times are entering into agreements with Facebook that encourage the Times to publish directly to the Facebook platform. Why does this matter? Because it’s evidence of where the power lies when fewer visit specific publisher/news sites, such as nytimes.com, and a billion plus people around the world spending 20% of their online time on Facebook, a single site/app.
It should come as no surprise, then, that the platform that pulls in the audience has the power.
If you’re a merchant of any sort, yes you have the ability to use your own website to sell directly to consumers, but it’s hard to avoid Amazon, which has become the Walmart of the Internet. Actually that’s not true. As of last week Amazon is bigger than Walmart.
We also have YouTube as the Walmart of video. It has 63% market share for total videos watched per month, it closest competitor, Vimeo, has less than a quarter of that amount, and just 1/10th of the unique monthly viewers.
So let’s not make any mistakes. These 'privately owned public spaces' are not co-ops, nor are they the common property of government; they are enterprises, with investors and shareholders to whom they are obliged to create value and a return on capital. Furthermore, they are built upon a principle in which value to the enterprise accrues as we all participate by joining, uploading, commenting, and sharing. Whereas publishers once had a monopoly on the creation and distribution of content, platforms increasingly have a monopoly on the creation of audiences.
This is one of the realities of the new bypass the middleman and/or gatekeeper of today’s online economy: For better or worse much of it is predicated upon this thing called platform capitalism. In the world of platform capitalism there is little or no cost to get into the game, the game being the ability to make whatever you have created, or are trying to sell, or rent, available to a global audience. One of the ways this game is evolving is through consolidation, as dozens of the smaller players get acquired by larger ones. And many of these larger players were not even in the particular game to begin with. The easiest way to understand this shift is to look at the example of the YouTube multi-channel networks, or MCNs.
They started out as small networks, bringing together individual YouTube channels into what are essentially taste networks – of game enthusiasts, or music fans, or foodies, or whatever the case may be – and then selling ads against the audience corralled. And who’s doing the acquiring of these MCNs? Among the buyers are well-known companies such as AT&T and Disney, who early on weren’t interested in what was likely looked upon as nothing more serious than noise emanating from YouTube.
And yet....
What starts out as nothing more than desire and drive on the part of individual creators, usually without aspirations or expectations or any sort of industry structure propping it up, has the potential to get multiplied by fans and followers, and turn into something with broader market appeal. And this thing, that begins life outside of the walls of industry has become a new form of currency that traditional media companies, operating very much within the walls of industry. want to leverage.
One of the outcomes of this phenomenon is that over time the democratization of communication, the initial impetus for this blog, gets sideswiped, to varying degrees, by new re-massifying forces. The niche offerings that made the online environment so refreshingly unlike the mass market world of hierarchical decision-making, capital-intensive production and distribution, and limited shelf space, are still there of course, but what we’re seeing is a privileging of those who sign up for more industrial muscle with the new middleman companies such who aggregate the work of podcasters, YouTubers, Instagrammers, Vine creators, etc. and optimize it for an advertising-supported world of content.
You thought all this stuff was free? Nope, it’s only “free”.
But is it meet the new boss, same as the old boss, though? I believe only the cynical would go that far. Are there trade-offs? Sure there are. But before crying ‘sell out’, you may want to bear the following in mind:
This could be a good thing for both creators and audiences, as it means fewer conventional ads and more entertainment and information products in their place. If we’re not paying for content online – whether it’s music or video or audio or image or text-based -- that means creators aren’t getting paid, unless a third party enters the picture and sponsors/underwrites it. In this model, there are no advances from music labels, publishers, studios – whatever the case may be -- that need to be earned back via a multi-year deal, that in the majority of cases handcuffs the creator.
Also, the risk is reduced for the financial backer of the content (whether it’s the label, studio, publisher, or brand) because online, audience uptake now observable and measurable in real time. Yes, creative destruction is undeniably present, but so are new processes that redefine the landscape for creators and audiences, as well as for the funders of the creative products and experiences who benefit from the affinity created between the creative product and the audience/consumer.
Things are far from being figured out but these are some of the reconfigurations of markets that we can now point to in an environment in which scarcity and closed systems have been replaced by access and (over)abundance.