Broadcasting Policy Beyond Broadcasting: Canada’s Online Streaming Act and the U.S. Response

By Christine Rose Cooling

(This is an occasional guest post. I am delighted to publish this analysis by Christine Rose Cooling, whose bio you will find at the end of the post).

An illustration featuring a smartphone displaying digital media platforms, a clipboard with media and broadcast regulations, a gavel on a wooden block, and a computer screen with hands holding microphones, labeled 'Online Streaming Act'.

Image: Shutterstock.com (modified)

When then-Minister of Canadian Heritage Pablo Rodriguez introduced Bill C-11, the Online Streaming Act, in the House of Commons in February 2022, he invoked earlier optimism about the Internet as a space for democratic participation and cultural opportunity. This sentiment recalls John Perry Barlow’s 1996 “Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace,” which infamously imagined the Internet as a space beyond the sovereignty of nation-states, where the “weary giants of flesh and steel” would have no power. That naïve idealism has since given way to emerging concern about the role of global streaming platforms in shredding Canada’s cultural fabric. Left unregulated, Rodriguez suggested, these services risk weakening Canadian sovereignty.

More than three decades after Canada’s last modernization of the Broadcasting Act in 1991, debates about Canadian broadcasting policy returned with renewed intensity. With Royal Assent granted in April 2023, the Online Streaming Act extends the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission’s (CRTC) regulatory authority to streaming services operating in Canada, requiring them to contribute to Canadian content (CanCon) production and support the discoverability of Canadian programming.

The Online Streaming Act represents both policy modernization and inertia in an effort to extend broadcasting policy beyond national broadcasting systems. Although the Act incorporates streaming platforms into the Broadcasting Act as “online undertakings,” these services differ fundamentally from traditional broadcasters—think spectrum allocation, scheduled programming, and territorially bounded signals.

Canada is not alone in attempting to retrofit twentieth-century broadcasting frameworks to the regulatory challenges posed by twenty-first-century streaming platforms. What distinguishes the Canadian case is the degree to which such efforts unfold within a trade environment shaped by structural dependence on access to U.S. markets, making Canadian cultural regulation unusually susceptible to bilateral pressure. Further, the Act operates within a volatile geopolitical arena in which platform regulation is being interpreted through the language of free trade and industrial competition rather than longstanding cultural logics.

Enter Stage Left: The U.S. Response

In June 2024, the CRTC announced that major online streaming services would be required to contribute five per cent of their Canadian revenues toward domestic production funds supporting Canadian and Indigenous content, including genres the streamers do not produce, such as news reporting. The decision has since been the subject of dispute by Apple, Amazon, and Spotify as well as the Motion Picture Association-Canada, though streamers will likely be prepared to pay some amount.

More recently, on March 19, 2026, Congressman Lloyd Smucker introduced the Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act in the U.S. House of Representatives. This draft legislation, if adopted, would direct the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) to investigate whether the Online Streaming Act discriminates against American streaming companies. The bill sets the stage for retaliatory action under Section 301(c) of the U.S. Trade Act of 1974 if such discrimination is found and if Canada does not remedy the discriminatory measures within 180 days, although use of Section 301 would violate the Canada–United States–Mexico Agreement (CUSMA).

Article 19.4 of CUSMA requires that countries treat digital products from other member states no less favourably than their own. In principle, this national treatment provision applies to streamers operating in Canada. However, Article 32.6 creates a broad exception for cultural industries, allowing Canada to adopt cultural policy measures affecting broadcasting and audiovisual production even if they conflict with the agreement. While specific U.S. industry interests have argued that Canada may need to rely on Article 32.6 to justify the measures it is taking under the Online Streaming Act, it is important to note that to date the U.S. government has not formally adopted this position. That said, the exemption does not eliminate the possibility of U.S. retaliation; indeed, it explicitly legitimizes it. Under CUSMA, the United States may respond with measures of equivalent commercial effect in any sector if it determines that Canadian cultural policies disadvantage American firms. Canada can, however, challenge whether Article 32.6 is applicable. Also, an argument can be made that the way in which the Online Streaming Act regulates streaming services is not discriminatory, i.e. it does not violate national treatment obligations.

Although Congressman Smucker’s Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act may never see the light of day as it is but one of many bills introduced into Congress to highlight issues of concern to U.S. industry interests, it nonetheless renders the politics of broadcasting policy quite visible. Smucker’s unlikely counter-legislation—decrying the Online Streaming Act as an attack against U.S. companies, creators, and workers—makes it blatantly clear how debates about cultural regulation increasingly extend beyond national institutions. Such actions function less as the basis for dispute settlement than as policy posturing intended to exert bilateral pressure on Canada.

From Signals to Streaming

Canadian broadcasting policy has long been shaped by historical disputes, cultural tensions, and geopolitical pressures. From the early licensing of commercial radio stations in the 1920s to the establishment of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) that we know (and at least some of us love) today, Canadian broadcasting policy developed not just as an industrial response to spectrum scarcity but also as cultural protectionism against American dominance over Canadian airwaves.

Conundrums aside, legacy regulatory strategies like Canadian content (CanCon) requirements and ownership rules remain measures through which broadcasting policy has sought to pursue cultural objectives beyond economic ones. The Online Streaming Act extends this analog-era regulatory philosophy into the digital age, transforming unresolved debates over the legitimacy of Canadian cultural regulation.

We should also remember that the transformation of broadcasting policy in Canada did not emerge suddenly with the Online Streaming Act. During the CRTC’s Let’s Talk TV hearings between 2013 and 2014, the Commission heard from Netflix representative Corie Wright who argued that online streaming services primarily supplemented rather than replaced traditional broadcasting services. Netflix declined to provide evidence supporting this claim, and the Commission ultimately ruled the argument as anecdotal. This line of uncertainty later informed the work of the Liberal-appointed Broadcasting and Telecommunications Legislative Review panel, whose 2020 report Canada’s Communications Future: Time to Act recommended restructuring communication legislation to reflect a new networked environment. Among its most consequential recommendations was the proposal to extend regulatory authority over online streaming services operating in Canada.

Concerns about the trade implications of regulating online streaming services are, likewise, not new at all. Early in 2020, Professor and Canada Research Chair in Internet and E-Commerce Law at the University of Ottawa, Michael Geist, warned that requiring foreign streaming services to contribute to Canadian production funds without equal access to those funds could invite retaliatory trade responses. Similar concerns surfaced in 2022 before the bill passed, when former U.S. Trade Representative Katherine Tai officially took notice of the Online Streaming Act during a CUSMA meeting with Canada’s former Minister of International Trade, Mary Ng.

Despite the unlikelihood of its adoption, Smucker’s Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act represents less a sudden escalation than a continuation of a contested shift in how cultural regulation is interpreted both within and beyond Canada. This is entirely unsurprising, as platform infrastructures shaped by recommendation systems, black-box algorithms, and cross-border media flows increasingly blur the boundaries between cultural forms and digital markets.

© Christine Rose Cooling, 2026

Biography

Christine Rose Cooling is a PhD student in Communication & Culture at York University whose research examines how Canadian cultural policy continues to shape cultural expression in a platform-mediated media environment. Her work focuses on broadcasting regulation, streaming platforms, and the cultural significance of live music within contemporary debates about national identity and cultural sovereignty.

The Online Streaming Act Was Already Complicated and Controversial Enough, But Now Quebec Enters the Fray (No Surprise: It’s Happened Before)

An illustration depicting a tug-of-war scenario, featuring a Canadian flag on one side and a Quebec flag on the other, symbolizing the cultural and political tensions between Canada and Quebec.

Tug of War Image: Shutterstock (modified)

Welcome to Canada, where the difficult can become the intractable when you add the inevitable additional ingredient of federal-provincial politics to any policy issue. Throw in the survival of the French language and Quebec culture in Canada and you have another classic Canadian drama. How to ensure that in protecting majority interests you don’t damage minority interests, or put another way, how to govern in the national interest without making a special exception for Quebec that will undermine the federation, especially now that some other provinces, such as Alberta, are playing the “Quebec card”. It has always been a delicate dance to keep the two linguistic groups rowing in the same direction, often accomplished by providing concessions to Quebec that have managed to meet its unique needs while maintaining provincial interoperability and minimum national standards. The latest challenge is broadcasting, or more specifically, streaming—which may or may not meet the definition of broadcasting.

It has been a well-established principle for decades that broadcasting in Canada is regulated by the federal government, although this was initially contentious (as it is once again). Perhaps not surprisingly, the original challenge came from Quebec which passed its own Broadcast Act in April 1929, before any federal legislation in the broadcast space had been enacted. A Royal Commission on Radio Broadcasting had been established by the federal government the year before to examine British and US systems (one leaning heavily toward a national public broadcaster, the other taking the lightly regulated commercial broadcasting route). Quebec quickly seized the initiative before any recommendations were issued by passing its own legislation. The Royal Commission’s findings, known as the Aird Report after Chief Commissioner Sir John Aird, former President of the Canadian Bank of Commerce, were finally issued in November of 1929.

That report recommended a public broadcasting system and laid the foundations for the establishment of the CBC/Radio-Canada. The stock market crash and ensuing Depression delayed action, along with a change of government, but by 1931 the R.B. Bennett government was ready to act. Quebec further forced the issue by passing a provincial Radio Act relating to licensing of receivers and transmitters. The federal government then referred the jurisdictional issue of broadcasting to the Supreme Court of Canada which ruled, 3-2, that broadcasting was a federal responsibility under Section 92(10)(a) of the BNA Act on the grounds that broadcasting was an undertaking, like the telegraph, that extended beyond provincial boundaries. Quebec appealed, but the Privy Council in London upheld the Supreme Court’s decision. The Bennett government then established the Canadian Radio Broadcasting Commission (CRBC), the forerunner of both the public broadcaster, the CBC, and the broadcast and telecoms regulator, the CRTC (Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission). Originally national broadcasting was in both official languages but to meet criticisms from Quebec, the CRBC launched French language programming unique to Quebec in 1934, marking the beginning of Radio-Canada’s French language service. An excellent summary of the history of Canadian broadcasting, produced by the Canadian Communications Foundation, can be found here.

Given the fractious history over who should regulate the airwaves, particularly given the importance of communications when it comes to cultural and linguistic identity, it is not surprising that differences have arisen with regard to streaming. The key question is whether streaming constitutes broadcasting. The federal regulator, the CRTC, has always maintained that mass communication transmitted digitally (new media) is a form of broadcasting although for many years it declined to regulate it on the grounds that there was no current need and that regulation might stifle innovation. In 1999, it issued a New Media Exemption Order, the main conclusion of which stated;

“…pursuant to subsection 9(4) of the Act, the Commission exempts persons who carry on, in whole or in part in Canada, broadcasting undertakings of the class consisting of new media broadcasting undertakings, from any or all of the requirements of Part II of the Act or of a regulation thereunder. New media broadcasting undertakings provide broadcasting services delivered and accessed over the Internet,…”

The Exemption Order was extended in 2009, but all that changed with the introduction in 2023 of the Online Streaming Act. That legislation amended the Broadcasting Act to specifically bring streaming content under the purview of the regulator, thus allowing the application of many provisions regarding streaming content, a number of them controversial. In particular it extends CRTC authority over foreign based streamers distributing programming in Canada. While the legislation gave authority to the CRTC (the Commission) to implement key parts of the Act, this will be a slow process as extensive hearings are required. Nonetheless, the Commission fired the first shot almost exactly a year ago, even before hearings had commenced, by requiring “base contributions” of 5% of Canadian revenues from (mostly foreign) streaming services for the creation of Canadian content, including funding to support local news broadcasting in Canada. This occurred prior to the CRTC’s review of how to define Canadian content, and determining who is entitled to claim a Canadian content credit for its creation. In the meantime, the foreign streamers have gone to Federal Court to fight the mandatory “contributions”, and so far not a nickel has been paid.

Another element of the CRTC’s deliberations will be deciding how to implement measures to ensure “discoverability” of Canadian content on streaming platforms. “Discoverability” in a broadcasting/streaming context goes beyond the plain English use of the word. Canadian Heritage (now the Ministry of Canadian Culture and Identity) has published a whole research paper on the technical aspects of discoverability. The paper offers a general definition (“…how content can stand out in order to reach an audience in a universe of hyper choice, where the catalogues of major cultural dissemination platforms offer tens of thousands of titles and products to users..”), but then goes on to point out the difference between content discoverability based on actions aimed at target audiences (such as highlighting certain content), and the use of technical tools or automated systems to showcase content and make it more findable (such as modifying or influencing algorithms). In short, it is a complex issue.

Discoverability was one of the most controversial and misinterpreted aspects of the Online Streaming legislation, then known as Bill C-11. Amendments introduced during the legislative process to encompass user-generated content, requiring that from a platform perspective it too be subject to the discoverability rules, were wildly and inaccurately criticized as internet censorship. Some groups purporting to represent the creative and user communities criticized the discoverability requirements as interfering with market forces and altering algorithmic results. But the Bill passed, including the discoverability requirements, the details of which remain to be established by the CRTC. While this process is underway, Quebec just threw a grenade into the room through the introduction of its own legislation, Bill 109, ”An Act to Affirm the Cultural Sovereignty of Québec and to Enact the Act Respecting the Discoverability of French-Language Cultural Content in the Digital Environment.”

Michael Geist of the University of Ottawa has described the Quebec bill as “unconstitutional, unnecessary and unworkable”, which is a pretty damning but largely accurate indictment. The problem that Quebec is trying to address, as MediaPolicy.ca blogger Howard Law has pointed out, is the “drastic underconsumption of French-language music on streaming platforms, a stunning 4.6 per cent of the top 10,000 song streams in Quebec, a province that is 80 per cent native French speakers.” Compare this to the French-language content requirements imposed by the CRTC on French-language radio stations. These stations must devote at least 65% of all popular music broadcast each week to French-language selections. The CRTC policy, whether it is Canadian content or French-language content, is based on the same premise; if you don’t require a minimum of Cancon/French-language content, the stations will default to non-Canadian, non-French language content. This will deprive Canadian anglophone and francophone artists of exposure and hinder development of “desirable” cultural content. And possibly contribute to weakening the French language in Quebec.

The cultural libertarians would say, so be it. If quotas are required to ensure that Cancon or French-language content gets consumed, then maybe it is not worth listening to or watching. Let the consumer decide (which is essentially how streaming works; the consumer chooses what to consume rather than consuming what is offered). The counter policy argument is that the content industry is so dominated by (take your pick; Hollywood, the major US labels, English language content, etc) that countermeasures are required to balance the playing field and ensure that local cultural content has a chance to breath before it is suffocated by the dominance of outsiders. In a society like Quebec, that represents roughly 7 million francophones in a sea of well over 350 million anglophones in North America, this is an especially critical issue. Will regulating discoverability requirements change the listening or viewing habits of Quebecois, especially young people. I have my doubts, but what is the alternative?

Governments regulate markets in many ways for the greater good, so why not cultural content? In Canada, the whole premise of broadcasting (going back to the 1920s and 1930s), and now streaming, has been to preserve and encourage Canadian voices, whether they be anglophone or francophone. How that should be done and who should do it has always been a tricky question and at times has required a delicate balancing act, sometimes between Canada and the United States, and sometimes between the Canadian federal government and Quebec. It would seem that we are in the midst of another one of those moments. Quebec’s desire to put its thumb on the scale to protect the French language is not new and should not be a surprise, although whether Bill 109 is constitutionally legal and, if it is, whether it will be effective, are valid questions. But we have been here before. As I said at the outset, welcome to Canada.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved.