Columns

A while ago I was trying to find some Aqua Teen Hunger Force on the Adult Swim website because, after a day formatting bibliographies and weeping over French philosophy, all I want are the animated adventures of a simpleminded ball of meat, a floating box of French fries and an asshole milkshake. But, 30 seconds in, the message is: "You've reached this page because we're currently not allowed to share our video across United States borders. It sucks. We know." Serves me right for going to the source; time to hunt for a region 4 DVD and / or crank up a programme that I hear is totally legal and smiled upon by the powers that be and stuff.

The frustration is that this is far from unusual. Anyone who has tried to (legally) watch American content online from the websites of the distributors or networks will have come up against the same problem: a digital cockblock.

This is the future. I have a fancy touch screen phone that can tell me what the sky looked like the day of the moon landing, I can skype my friends and relatives overseas whenever I like, and if I want to know the answer to something obscure or if I want to read a facsimile of a first edition copy of Shakespeare's sonnets, chances are someone's posted it online. But if I want to watch X Factor the day it plays in the US, before all my Facebook friends ruin it for me? Shit out of luck.

By virtue of geography and a sluggish, Jurassic media distribution model, New Zealand doesn't do well in terms of watching awesome things. The problem is that current global media distribution models are, bluntly, a bit shit, and in no way reflect the global communities of media consumers. You may have heard American friends and family talk in hallowed tones about Hulu.com and Netflix – but don't get your hopes up, as even if you try to give those companies money to watch things, they can't or won't take it.

Figuring out the legalities of who gets paid and how is the crux of the matter – and when big bucks are at stake all of a sudden the companies come to the party. In some cases, such as godawful talent contests like American Idol, or interestingly the last few episodes of Lost, American media companies have made it much easier for local media to almost sync up with American broadcast dates so as not to lose real-time viewership numbers to things like BitTorrent. When television networks here purchase shows to screen they are effectively purchasing a vehicle for advertising – or, in the case of Sky channels, an inducement to buy a subscription – so it is in their best interests to give people what they want as soon as possible, or to offer alternative viewing methods such as on demand or TV3+1, before someone reads on the BBC webpage who won what. However, for the avid media consumer who can get everything else on demand, being told that you won't get a superb and award-winning crime drama for a few years brings a chorus of "Huh?" It seems a bit like a slap in the face: please buy our stuff and contribute to our Anglophone cultural domination, but – sorry – you can't watch that. Even though your cousin can. Next week: why gaming companies know better.