
November 2024
By Seth Hallen
Rewriting the Script: The Strikes, AI, and Hollywood's Economic Turning Point
The 2023 strikes were not just about pay negotiations or AI. They were the moment deeper economic forces came to a head.
Part 3 of a 4-part series on Hollywood's transformation
Part 1: Beyond AI · Part 2: Stone Age to Screen Age · Part 3: Rewriting the Script · Part 4: Provoking the Future
In 2023, Hollywood experienced something it had not seen in decades: simultaneous strikes by both the Writers Guild of America and the Screen Actors Guild. For nearly half a year, production ground to a halt. Picket lines formed outside studios. Late-night shows went dark. Films and television series were delayed or shelved entirely. The industry came to a standstill in a way that made the disruption visible to everyone, not just those inside the business.
The public narrative focused heavily on two things: compensation in the streaming era and artificial intelligence. And those were real issues at the bargaining table. But to understand the strikes only through those lenses is to miss the larger story. The 2023 strikes were not just labor disputes. They were the moment when the deeper economic forces that had been building for years finally came to a head.
The Economic Pressure That Built Over Years
The conditions that led to the strikes did not emerge overnight. They were the product of a decade-long transformation in how content is financed, produced, and monetized. As the legacy revenue model eroded—theatrical windows compressed, home video revenue collapsed, linear television audiences shrank—the economics of creative work changed fundamentally.
For writers, the shift to streaming meant shorter seasons, fewer episodes per order, and the disappearance of the backend residual structures that had historically provided long-term financial stability. A writer who worked on a successful network series could once expect years of meaningful residual income as the show was syndicated, licensed internationally, and sold on home video. In the streaming model, that same show might generate a fraction of those residuals, because the economic model of subscription video on demand does not produce the same per-unit revenue.
For actors, similar dynamics were at play. Streaming residuals were structured differently than traditional broadcast residuals. The number of roles available had increased with the explosion of streaming content, but the per-project economics had often worsened. And the rise of AI-generated imagery and digital likenesses introduced new questions about how performers would be compensated when their faces and voices could be synthesized without their ongoing participation.
AI: The Lightning Rod, Not the Root Cause
Artificial intelligence became the most visible and emotionally charged issue of the strikes. The fear that AI could replace writers, generate scripts, create digital performances, and eliminate creative jobs was powerful, visceral, and understandable. It dominated headlines and became the symbol of what the strikes were about in the public imagination.
But AI was the lightning rod, not the root cause. The underlying issue was economic: the old model that compensated creative professionals had been disrupted, and the new model had not yet been built to replace it. AI amplified the anxiety because it represented yet another force that could further compress the economics of creative work. But even without AI, the economic pressures that drove writers and actors to strike were already severe.
This distinction matters because it shapes how we think about solutions. If AI is the problem, then the solution is to restrict or regulate AI. If the underlying economics are the problem, then the solution requires a much broader rethinking of how creative work is valued, compensated, and sustained in a streaming-first, platform-dominated industry. The strikes addressed both, but the harder challenge—restructuring the economics—remains largely unresolved.
The Impact on Creative Professionals
The human impact of the strikes and the economic forces behind them has been severe. Thousands of writers, actors, crew members, and other industry professionals experienced months without income. Many had already been struggling with the economic changes that preceded the strikes—shorter seasons, fewer guaranteed episodes, reduced residuals, and increasing competition for available work.
The strikes also exposed a growing divide within the creative community. Established professionals with track records, relationships, and financial reserves were better positioned to weather the disruption. Emerging and mid-career professionals, who were already navigating a more difficult economic landscape, were disproportionately affected. The strikes accelerated a stratification that was already underway, creating a more pronounced gap between those who could afford to wait and those who could not.
Beyond the immediate financial impact, the strikes created a climate of uncertainty that continues to affect career decisions, creative risk-taking, and the willingness of talented people to enter or remain in the industry. When the economic foundation of creative work becomes unpredictable, it changes not just what gets made, but who is willing to try to make it.
Misconceptions About AI's Role
The strikes crystallized several misconceptions about AI's role in the entertainment industry that are worth addressing directly. The first is the idea that AI is coming to replace creative professionals wholesale. While AI can generate text, images, and eventually video, the gap between what AI produces and what constitutes professional-grade creative work remains significant. AI is a tool that can augment and accelerate certain parts of the creative process, but the judgment, taste, emotional intelligence, and cultural understanding that drive great storytelling are not qualities that current AI systems possess.
The second misconception is that the choice is binary: either embrace AI completely or reject it entirely. The reality is far more nuanced. AI will become part of the creative toolkit, just as digital editing, CGI, and other technologies have become part of it. The question is not whether AI will be used, but how it will be used, who controls its use, and how the economic benefits of increased efficiency are distributed.
The third misconception is that technology is the enemy. History, as we explored in the previous installment of this series, shows the opposite. Every major technological breakthrough in entertainment has ultimately expanded creative possibilities and created more opportunities than it destroyed. The challenge is navigating the transition in a way that protects the people who are affected in the short term while enabling the long-term benefits to materialize.
Technology as Part of the Solution
Here is the counterintuitive truth that gets lost in the fear: technology, including AI, will be part of the solution to the economic challenges facing creative professionals, not just part of the problem. The economics of content creation need to change. Production needs to become more efficient. Distribution needs to become more targeted. Monetization needs to become more diverse. And technology is the primary lever for achieving all of those things.
AI can reduce the cost and time required for certain production tasks, making it economically viable to produce content that would otherwise be too expensive. It can help creators reach audiences more effectively by improving discovery and recommendation. It can enable new forms of interactive and personalized content that create entirely new revenue streams. It can democratize access to production tools that were previously available only to well-funded studios.
None of this happens automatically, and none of it happens without intentional effort to ensure that the benefits are broadly shared. But the path forward for the entertainment industry runs through technology, not around it. The strikes were a necessary moment of reckoning. What matters now is whether the industry uses that moment as a catalyst for genuine structural change or simply papers over the cracks until the next crisis.
Originally published on LinkedIn by Seth Hallen