Edinburgh TV Festival: “Show me the incentive, I’ll show you the outcome”
- Romy Kraus
- 21 hours ago
- 7 min read
Why UK producers believe ownership helped create Britain’s television advantage - and why streamer deals are changing it.
At the Edinburgh TV Festival, Patrick Holland, Jane Root and Dimitri Doganis discussed with Matt Belloni why the UK has produced so many successful television formats, how public-service broadcasting helped create that system, and why streamer economics are changing it.
Holland oversees Banijay UK. Root founded Nutopia, whose productions include projects with Will Smith, Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hanks. Doganis co-founded RAW, producer of The Tinder Swindler, Don’t F**k With Cats and Gold Rush.
Their central argument was that the UK’s strength is not simply creative. It comes from a production culture built over decades, broadcasters with a mandate to innovate, and a rights system that has allowed independent producers to retain valuable intellectual property.
Streamers brought bigger budgets and global distribution, but often replaced that ownership model with work-for-hire deals. Now producers are looking at YouTube, independent financing and talent partnerships as ways to retain more control.
The Lowdown
The UK developed a deep pool of unscripted talent because documentaries and factual entertainment have long occupied mainstream schedules.
Public-service broadcasters have historically been expected to innovate rather than rely only on proven formats.
UK producers can retain IP on qualifying public-service commissions, giving them an incentive to create formats that can be sold internationally.
Streamers expanded the UK production market but often commission on work-for-hire terms, leaving producers without long-term ownership.
Some producers are now exploring YouTube and independent financing to develop projects before selling secondary rights.
The panel argued that audience data can explain previous success but cannot reliably predict genuinely new hits.
“If you come up with something new, you can own a piece of it.”
The panel linked the UK’s record in unscripted television to two factors: audience expectations and producer incentives.
Root argued that British audiences have spent decades watching documentaries and factual programmes in prominent schedule slots. Public-service broadcasters including the BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and Channel 5 have also operated under obligations that include originality and public value.
That created demand for producers who could develop new formats rather than simply replicate existing hits.
Doganis described a difference he encountered selling programmes in the US.
“We went to the US and everyone was like, ‘What’s our version of Locked Up Abroad?’”
In the UK, he said, buyers were more likely to respond:
“We’ve done that already. We don’t want that. What else?”
The financial incentive matters too. Holland pointed to the UK Terms of Trade introduced after the 2003 Communications Act, which allowed qualifying independent producers to retain rights in programmes commissioned by public-service broadcasters.
“If you come up with something new, you can own a piece of it.”
That gives producers a reason to create formats with international potential.
Holland used MasterChef as an example. It began on the BBC, developed over time and became a format sold into dozens of territories.
“You make that show that year. The next year you start at zero.”
The arrival of global streamers expanded production opportunities in the UK.
Doganis described the early period as a “gold rush”: more buyers entered the market, budgets increased and production activity grew.
The trade-off was ownership.
“You make that show that year, the next year you start at zero. You’ve got no rights retention, no passive income coming in.”
Under many streamer deals, producers are paid to make the programme but do not retain the underlying rights.
That is different from the public-service model, where producers can potentially benefit from international sales, adaptations or other uses of successful IP.
RAW has produced major Netflix documentaries including The Tinder Swindler and Don’t F**k With Cats.
Asked about making successful programmes without retaining ownership, Doganis described it as:
“An endless source of pride and pain.”
The advantage is reach. The disadvantage is that success does not necessarily create a long-term asset for the producer.
“The upfront money… looks like cheap money.”
Belloni compared the UK situation with the US streaming boom, when writers and showrunners accepted large overall deals that often replaced traditional backend participation.
The immediate payment could be substantial, but the creator gave up part of the potential long-term value. The same tension applies to production companies.
A work-for-hire commission provides guaranteed revenue. Retaining IP carries more risk, but a successful format can continue generating income through international sales, licensing and adaptation. That distinction is central to the UK production model.
Holland argued that ownership gave independent producers “skin in the game” and encouraged them to turn successful programmes into wider businesses.
“There is so much sleeping IP sitting in those libraries.”
Holland also questioned whether streamers are making full use of the programmes they own.
“There is so much sleeping IP that is in those libraries now.”
His argument was that UK producers have traditionally looked for multiple ways to exploit successful intellectual property through international sales, new versions and licensing.
A programme owned outright by a streamer may instead remain unused once its initial release cycle has ended.
Holland suggested there could be opportunities for streamers to work more closely with producers to develop those properties further.
Doganis was more sceptical that platforms would change their terms voluntarily.
“They’re not going to do it unless they’re forced to.”
He identified two possible forms of leverage: showing platforms that a different structure could make them more money, or controlling a project they strongly want.
“Launch it on YouTube, own it with the stars.”
Root described one alternative being explored by Nutopia: developing projects directly with major talent and releasing them first on platforms such as YouTube.
“Launch it on YouTube, own it with the stars and then find secondary places for it.”
The purpose is not simply to reach a younger audience.
It changes the ownership structure.
Instead of bringing an undeveloped idea to a broadcaster or streamer, the producer and talent can create the programme themselves, retain ownership and then negotiate secondary rights if the project succeeds.
Root said Nutopia was pursuing this model with established talent including Trevor Noah.
If the initial project attracts an audience, that audience can provide evidence of demand before further rights are sold.
“I’ve got something you really want.”
The recent combination of Banijay and All3Media gives the group greater scale, but Holland stopped short of suggesting that scale would be used to force streamers into new terms.
Doganis argued that size alone would not necessarily change the relationship.
The strongest negotiating position comes from owning something a buyer wants.
“I’ve got something you really want and you’re not going to get it unless…”
That could be a format, a finished programme, access to talent or a project already demonstrating an audience.
The implication is that producers gain more leverage when they move further upstream and control the project before a streamer enters the process.
“Data only tells you about things that have been before.”
The panel also discussed the influence of YouTube creators and data-led production.
Doganis described visiting MrBeast’s operation and seeing a process built heavily around audience behaviour, engagement and rewatch data. He saw value in that approach but rejected the idea that television could become purely data-driven.
“Data only tells you about things that have been before.”
The risk is that commissioners identify the features of previous successes and then reject projects that do not contain those features.
Doganis pointed out that many successful programmes contained elements that had not previously been proven.
“You didn’t know it had worked until it worked for the first time.”
He cited programmes such as Squid Game, Baby Reindeer and Adolescence as examples of shows that would have been difficult to predict through conventional assumptions about audience demand.
The panel’s view was not that data should be ignored, but that it cannot replace creative judgement.
“In order to innovate, you need headroom. And to have headroom, you need money.”
The public-service system that encouraged experimentation is also under financial pressure.
Holland explained that a BBC contribution to a scripted programme may cover only part of the total production cost. Producers then need deficit financing or international partners to achieve the required scale. That can make streamers attractive even when their rights terms are less favourable. The problem is circular.
Public-service broadcasters are expected to innovate, but innovation requires the ability to fund projects that may fail.
“Innovation is risk, right? You’re taking swings. And by definition, you’re going to miss.”
The panel cited The Traitors as the kind of programme that demonstrates what happens when a broadcaster backs something that does not look like a proven copy of an existing hit.
“How do I find a story that no one else is chasing?”
Doganis said RAW’s development team typically consists of between six and 12 people, depending on the company’s production cycle.
Its job is not simply to respond to broadcaster briefs.
The team also looks for stories before competitors do.
“How do I find a story that no one else is chasing?”
That can involve original journalism, research or identifying subjects that have not yet become established intellectual property.
Doganis linked this directly to financial limitations. RAW cannot necessarily compete with US studios paying large sums for prominent books or rights.
“Necessity becomes the mother of invention.”
Root described a similar split at Nutopia: some development responds directly to buyer demand, while another part starts with subjects the team itself finds compelling.
Holland said Banijay’s labels retain separate development teams because their value depends on continuing to generate distinct ideas.
Quickfire
Q: What does Netflix want to spend on a true-crime documentary?
Doganis estimated that Netflix generally does not want to spend more than roughly £1.2 million to £1.5 million, and would prefer to spend less. The transcript does not make completely clear whether this figure refers to a single film, episode or another budgeting unit, so it should not be presented more specifically than that.
Q: Does the market want anything beyond true crime?
Doganis pointed to pop-culture documentaries, celebrity biographies and sport, although he said the sports-documentary market had weakened as streamers increasingly invest in live sport.
RAW is also producing a project about Keiko, the whale associated with Free Willy.
Q: What kind of project might work with Prince Harry?
The panel was more convinced by a physically demanding adventure format than a business-focused reality programme.
Root linked that idea to Harry’s military background and apparent interest in physical challenges.
Q: How do producers source ideas?
All three described dedicated development teams.
The common aim is to find strong stories early enough that the producer has some control over the underlying IP rather than entering only after a broadcaster or streamer has commissioned the idea.
