Window that changed the world

When the United Nations General Assembly declared November 21 as World Television Day in 1996, it was acknowledging a simple truth: no invention in the 20th century altered human perception, politics, culture, and consciousness as profoundly as television. Today, long after its birth, the debate continues – is television an idiot box that numbs us or a magic box that enlightens us? Perhaps it is both, as Marshall McLuhan foresaw when he declared that “the medium is the message.” Television did not merely transmit information; it transformed societies by its very existence. McLuhan famously argued that television is an extension of the human senses, especially sight and hearing, turning viewers into participants in a shared cultural experience.

He classified it as a “cool medium,” one that demands emotional involvement and interpretation. Unlike the printed word, which is analytical and detached, television immerses. It pulls people in, forms communities of viewers, and creates the global village – a world where distances shrink, cultures converge, and information flows instantly. India witnessed this firsthand when Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayana aired in the late 1980s. It became the world’s largest communication experiment. Streets emptied, families gathered, neighbours sat together, and for 45 minutes every Sunday morning, a country of a billion people shared a single emotional universe. It was the arrival of mass-line communication in its purest form, long before social media existed. Television became India’s biggest informal education tool, teaching values, icons, and national identity through collective viewing.

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Television did something else: it turned geopolitics into a living-room experience. The 1991 Gulf War, broadcast live by CNN, was a turning point. For the first time in world history, war unfolded in real time before global audiences. Missiles streaking across Baghdad were not military secrets; they were prime-time visuals. A tea shop owner in Kerala or a bus conductor in Jaipur suddenly understood international alliances, oil politics, and the American military machine. Television shrank the globe and democratized access to world affairs. But with globalization came another phenomenon: cultural homogenisation. Concepts like “McDonaldization” and “coco-colonisation” describe how television-driven consumer culture spread everywhere – from food habits to fashion, language to lifestyles.

Oriental traditions encountered occidental aspirations on MTV, Nickelodeon, and Star World as easily as they encountered local serials on Doordarshan. A child raised on Shaktimaan quickly shifted to Captain Planet, and a generation learned American humour from Friends while still following Indian soaps. Television became a blender of cultures, often flattening differences into globally recognisable formats. As India liberalised in the 1990s, satellite television arrived, breaking Doordarshan’s monopoly. The explosion of private channels changed everything – news became competitive, entertainment diversified, and ideological battles began to play out on air.

Television was no longer just a cultural force; it became a political force. And this is where Noam Chomsky’s Manufacturing Consent becomes crucial. Chomsky, along with Edward Herman, argued that mass media in capitalist democracies serves not as a watchdog but as a propaganda system – subtly manufacturing public consent for political and economic elites. Their “propaganda model” identified filters that shape news: ownership by corporate conglomerates, dependence on advertising, political alliances, reliance on official sources, and orchestrated flak against dissenting voices. Although conceived in the context of American media, the model fits many countries today, including India. The political economy of television reveals that most major news channels are owned by large business houses, corporate groups, political allies, or religious organisations. In such a system, the newsroom does not operate in ideological isolation.

Editorial lines often reflect the priorities of owners, advertisers, and political patrons. The agenda-setting function of television – deciding which issues dominate public discourse – becomes a powerful tool. Media may not tell people what to think, but it certainly tells them what to think about. This agenda-setting power is visible in the way television frames debates, highlights controversies, sensationalises events, or ignores inconvenient truths. Channels sometimes function as echo chambers of partisan narratives, and the line between journalism and propaganda blurs. The rise of “Murdochism” – named after Rupert Murdoch’s media empire – captures this phenomenon: sensationalism, polarization, and political influence blending into a single communication model. Yet despite criticism, television retains a unique emotional power that no other medium can replicate.

It creates national moments that bind people together – a cricket victory, a moon landing, an election result night, a natural disaster broadcast live, a leader addressing the nation. These are moments of unity, empathy, and shared civic experience. McLuhan’s global village comes alive in these flashes of collective emotion. Television also reinvented intimate political communication. Franklin Roosevelt’s fireside chats showed how leaders could speak directly to citizens, bypassing intermediaries. In India, similar moments are visible in televised addresses from national leaders where millions tune in simultaneously. Television becomes not just a medium but a mass-line link connecting rulers and the ruled. However, the rise of OTT platforms and web series has disrupted traditional TV. The magic box has moved from the living room to the pocket. Streaming services offer global stories, uncensored creativity, and cinematic quality.

A viewer in Chennai binge-watches a Korean drama; a student in Delhi explores a Spanish thriller; a family in Bengaluru watches a Malayalam web series trending in Canada. OTT platforms have liberated content from geographical boundaries and time schedules, personalizing the television experience. Artificial Intelligence has accelerated this transformation. Recommendation engines curate what viewers watch. AI-generated graphics dominate newsrooms. Virtual anchors are emerging in many countries. Automated translation and dubbing make multilingual content instantly accessible. Television is no longer a single screen – it is a distributed digital ecosystem. Yet traditional television still matters. Rural India continues to rely heavily on TV for information, entertainment, and education. Election campaigns still revolve around prime-time debates.

Major sporting events are still mass television experiences. In crises – wars, pandemics, natural disasters – television remains the primary source of live, trusted updates for millions. Television’s future lies in a hybrid world where satellite TV, OTT platforms, AI-driven content, and interactive technologies coexist. But its responsibility remains unchanged. In a noisy era of information overload and political polarization, television must strive to uphold truth, pluralism, and credibility. Calling television an “idiot box” misses the deeper truth. It can certainly dull minds when consumed unthinkingly. But it can also enlighten, educate, unite, and empower. It can be a teacher, a storyteller, a mirror, a cultural archive, and yes, sometimes a manipulator.

When around 1.42 billion people watched the last World Cup football final live in crystal-clear clarity, television proved once again that it remain the wo world’s most powerful window to shared human emotion On this World Television Day, as screens glow across cities and villages, it is worth remembering that television has not merely shown us the world – it has shaped the world. It has brought wars, epics, revolutions, science, entertainment, heartbreaks, and hope into our lives. It has influenced public opinion, shaped political destinies, and created cultural history. It has made us global citizens and informed participants in a rapidly changing world. Television remains both a mirror and a magnifying glass – reflecting society while enlarging its truths, myths, aspirations, and anxieties. The box may evolve, the medium may transform, but its magic remains as luminous as ever, one frame at a time.

(The writer is Professor, Centre for South Asian Studies, Pondicherry Central University.)