This article was taken from the August 2011 issue of Wired magazine. Be the first to read Wired's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by subscribing online.
The words "transmedia" and "multiplatform" are holding back the development of cool storytelling and interactive content. They are lexical kludges, attempting to describe products using the inherent operational characteristics of broadcast media.
Right from the birth of broadcasting, the word "programme" was used to describe the service audiences were getting. It perfectly describes a curated sequence of elements occupying a section of time. The word "programme" described the relationship between these elements: they belonged to the same set, but didn't affect one another; the relationship was linear, exclusive and temporal. Tune in or miss out. "Programme" was a one-word user manual for radio listeners and producers. It still is: "television programme" describes that product with a simplicity and accuracy that is almost the perfect opposite of "transmedia" or "multiplatform". The first is a noun; the other two are -- at best -- bloody obvious in the 21st century.
These words don't consider the true nature of our new "programmes" -- the way in which their elements interoperate. Until we fix that, we can't describe what we do; what we do won't live up to its potential.
Where the defining characteristic of broadcast technologies are their one-to-many, linear dissemination of content, something designed to capitalise on the affordances of the network is neither. It's atemporal. It's inherently personalised. More importantly, the network is a huge machine for processing information. When we're using network technologies to the full, the elements in our services have an active relationship governed by logic...they're part of a system.
Consider SuperMe, a Channel 4 commission from my company designed to teach teens about happiness.
You can't really call it a website, although it has one. You could call it a game, but that would reduce the importance of the video or the minigames when fulfilling their purpose as syndicated media.
So we propose the phrase "content system" as the digital analogue to "television programme". A system processes information and energy. It implies an active relationship between pieces of disparate content. It understands state. It has a purpose, inherently designed. It can include television, a mobile phone baked into a cake, actors in the street, Twitter or an app.
Of course, "content" is a horrible word, and there are enough snake-oil transmedia salesmen to guarantee its survival -- but, crucially, "content system" gives us something to aim at.
I can design a better "mousetrap"; I can't make something "better multiplatform".
Paul Bennun is chief creative officer of London content-design company Somethin' Else. His executive production and direction credits include Channel 4's playsuperme.com and the videogames with no video, Papa Sangre and The Nightjar
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
