The Illusion of Consumer Choice: Buying a Smart TV
Big Tech is always trying to rope us into their ecosystems. A data-hungry few now control the TV market, as streaming hardware has been absorbed into smart TVs. This breeds a stunning lack of variety.
When shopping for a replacement television recently, I was unsurprised to find that the marketplace for TVs is just as uninventive and monopolized as one might expect. All the top listings carry near-uniform bells and whistles, differentiated only by the handful of Big Tech-branded operating systems they run on. Few allow you to opt out of having the entire product controlled by your Google/Amazon(/etc.) account. Figures.
Call me old school, but all I need is a regular TV. And if I want to connect to Netflix or Hulu, why not use a game console, laptop connection or third-party streaming device? Such accessories became popular because they bridged the gap between the Internet of Things and the conventional cable-oriented setup, giving us access to the streaming apps that would inevitably oversee our conversion to long-term smart TV owners.
Advertisers have shifted their spending towards smart TV OEMs (original equipment manufacturers), which offer “better data, more effective frequency capping, and more control over inventory,” as one analysis by TV[R]EV puts it. External streaming devices (dongles and sticks, such as Amazon’s FireStick) are now becoming antiquated as smart TVs gain market share with recurring revenue from user data.
Looking to avoid yet another stream of data collection and in-device advertising in my home, I decided to take the “dumb TV” route. My current non-smart TV is about six years old. Surely, the market hasn’t changed that much since then, right? As it turned out, few TVs like mine were available. Even fewer came in the size and price point I wanted.
Most manufacturers no longer sell dumb TVs, forcing streaming hardware customers to sign on to their ecosystems instead. Ideally, a healthily diverse lineup of contenders would compete for my conversion to a first-time smart TV buyer. But this is not a regular free market. A new data-hungry shadow market underlies modern consumer purchases. In this case, it’s openly dominated by a handful of manufacturers (Samsung, LG, others) and software providers (Google/Android, Amazon/Fire, Roku) who see your long-term data as more valuable than the product being marketed to you. This is the new normal, after all. The comb-overs who were desperate for your data have been shoved aside by the new tech nerds. This breed is not just salivating at the chance at your personal information—it’s expecting and demanding it.
There’s plenty of data to feast on. Per Nielsen, Americans streamed 19.4 million years of content last year, up 27% from 2021. U.S. adults spend a few hours watching TV each day. Around 85% of U.S. households have at least one TV-connected device as of January 2023, though over one-third access TV content solely through a broadband internet connection. The average household has 2.5 TVs, while smart TV ownership is 1.2 devices per household.
Now that video-streaming hardware is universal, at nearly three devices per person, the industry is shifting towards ad-supported models. But this momentum will reach a saturation point, with S&P Global projecting a stable 8.5 devices per broadband household through 2026. Companies are always trying to get us hooked on their ecosystems, but will they become more desperate with a limit on the number of screens people are willing to buy? And would it even matter? According to a 2022 survey from S&P Global, the viewing behaviors of smart TV owners are nearly identical to non-smart TV households, despite growing proliferation.
Even if you’d prefer one brand over another, I’d argue there’s really no difference in the core selling points and specs. The components of the device might change, as its semiconductors and other internal electronics are upgraded with every generation. With cheaper innards, the marked-up price must be justified through the illusion of “cool and integrated” software, which is essentially the market they’ve cooked up. The features are virtually identical and redundant, all at top-notch 4/8K-level resolutions but with no true originality. The user interface is still outdated, and in-device advertisements dampen the overall experience. They might as well be knockoffs of each other. The only difference is stamped in the marketing symbols. Could you pick an unlabeled smart TV brand out of a lineup?
In a healthy economy, we’d expect a price-competitive option offering a counterbalance to Big Tech ecosystems. But the option to choose alternatives is fading, not just in the TV market. Google Fiber is always begging for my business, regularly sending letters, “exclusive offers,” and door-to-door salespeople shilling its home internet service. Out of spite, Google Fiber is now the last option I’d choose (even with so few choices available). But my current ISP, Spectrum, does the same thing in other neighborhoods where Google Fiber is already dominant. I happen to live within Google Fiber’s web. Again, a pattern returns: consumer choice is limited, the quality of each service is otherwise indistinguishable, and the opportunity for data collection remains on the table—whether we like it or not.
I realize no one is forcing me to buy a TV. After all, I’m willing to pay for a decent product. I simply want to opt out of the ecosystem, a choice increasingly stripped from personal purchases. I like the relationship executed at the point of sale, not forever latched on via the mountain of legal agreements required in the setup process. Don’t we deserve better?
As industries consolidate and end-purchases no longer drive the consumer economy, a subtly dystopian scene is playing out in our living rooms where data portals stalk in the background and leech off you in real time, all the time.
The free market is dying, a theme exceedingly visible in everyday observations. Why should we expect anything more than a data-thirsty feast in an economy that bears its name?
Readers: Do you think the data economy is expanding or limiting consumer choice? Feel free to comment below or tag me on Twitter.
Note: This is an opinion essay. Much like a traditional newspaper column, my newsletter is a side channel to voice my personal views and observations. It’s separate from my main gig as a journalist/reporter. You can follow my journalistic work here.
Stay tuned for more monthly essays. If you like a critical take on today’s tech-centric economy and culture, you’re in the right place. I try to focus on angles and questions no one else is talking about. Outside of Substack, you can follow this blog on Medium.