But I know the truth: there's no going back. You've changed things... forever.
Must see TV, as it existed in the latter half of the 20th century, is dead. The reason is simple: that concept was based on boundaries, it was rooted in constraint and a lack of choice. In an age where time and (viewing) space are manipulable, that model is rapidly becoming outmoded. Only in a finite entertainment universe can a particular program be “must see.” Let's consider two factors that have rapidly eroded the supremacy of the immutable timeslot anchored to a traditionally popular channel.
First, the rapidly inflating landscape of the television universe. The explosion of television channels over the past few decades has diluted content and generated a digital New World for viewers to explore. In 1985, the average number of TV channels receivable was 18.8. In 1990, it was 33.2 By 2000 it was 74.6 and in 2007 the average home in the U.S. received 118.6 channels. Of course, most people watch only a fraction of the available channels—the average viewer in 2007 tuned to only 16 channels for at least 10 minutes per week. But the key point of interest isn't how many channels a person watches, it's the fact that they can choose now to watch different channels than their neighbor.
Part of the reason for that is that there are channels now for everyone's tastes. We have channels on history, weather, science, nature, news, sports, travel, food, science fiction, and comedy. We have channels aimed at men, channels aimed at women, channels for game show fanatics, channels airing classic movies, channels airing contemporary movies, on-demand television and movie options, you name it and they've probably got it. Of course, many of these channels stray a bit from their ostensible mission. SyFy plays a disproportionate amount of wrestling and low-budget horror films, news channels rely on a crude parody of analysis in the evenings, and the history channel plays a lot of weird shit about wormholes and truck drivers. But the fact remains that even when a channel's name sometimes borders on being a misnomer, they're catering to some particular audience.
I was recently introduced to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, thanks to Comedy Central’s 2-hour IASIP happy hour on Monday nights. I was aware of the show before reruns came to Comedy Central but, since I don’t generally watch FX, it escaped my craving for misanthropic comedy until now. The lesson there is that for some of us, our channels of choice are oases in a desert of uninteresting or, at the very last unfamiliar, programming. It's frightening to wander in search of a new watering hole, particularly when you suspect the
Second, the near-total mastery of time. Yes, it's always been possible to tape programs to watch them later. But that required physically having and storing VHS tapes, fumbling with labels, rewinding. Taping programs was an occasional indulgence, used mostly to record a single episode of a TV show you couldn't avoid missing or, by jury-rigging two TVs together, illegally copying rented videos. It was impractical to use as your primary mechanism for watching television.
Today it doesn't matter when you watch most television shows. We have seen the rise of "time-shifted viewing," as DVRs have made it possible to effortlessly record, store, and watch (sans commercial breaks) any program you want. The result has been that a significant chunk of televisions actually viewed on televisions aren't watched at the time they originally air. In addition, as Teshale pointed out, the internet--particularly in the era of Hulu--is a viable option for watching shows. And I'm sure that soon enough we'll be able to watch television shows from the future, years before they're ever produced. Take that, causality.
There are still exceptions, of course. We've only mastered TV time, not actual time. News events--inaugurations, celebrity deaths, disasters, and the like--continue to dominate ratings because those television events still compel people to tune in live (if you record it to watch it a week later, it ain't news). Similarly, major sporting events (e.g. the Superbowl) and other results-oriented, spoiler-based or otherwise time-sensitive forms of programming also invite live watching. But these exceptions aren't regular or common enough to undo the influence of time and space factors.
Together these two factors make it unlikely that astonishing numbers of eyes (at least on a percentage basis) will be trained on the same channel at the same time anymore. Even if huge numbers of people do choose to watch the same program, they will do it at different times and through different mediums. The (viewing) space issues mean less viewers for a given show, as potential program-watchers spread out, however unevenly, through the TV landscape. The time issues give viewers the option of watching at their own pace, which often--at least in my case--means skipping the advertisements that bring in revenue to the network. I suspect that down the line this trend is going to become increasingly important. Will revenues from internet ads start picking up the slack? Will networks switch to a greater reliance on subscription-based business models for both television and internet programming? I can't say.
What I can say is, we won't be going back to the way things were. Television is becoming increasingly granular and, in some cases, individualized. The more it caters to your particular viewing desires, the harder it becomes to make it into a mass commercial gimmick. Of course, all this will be moot once you can download customizable entertainment right into your head. Or someone invents a holodeck. We're all just marching toward a future in which we each live inside our own minds, anyway.
RIP, Urkel.