Tag: Online Streaming Act

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 or Dairy Supply Management: Which one should Canada Surrender to the US in CUSMA Trade Negotiations? Or is it a Question of Putting Some Water into the Wine of Both?

A person pouring water from a ceramic jug into a large clay pot.

Image: Shutterstock

Should Canada give up the Online Streaming Act (OSA) in forthcoming CUSMA negotiations in order to preserve dairy supply management, as a former Vice Chair of the CRTC, Peter Menzies, suggested in a Globe and Mail oped earlier this month? Perhaps he was just being deliberately provocative although the question hits one of the raw nerves of Canadian politics. The cultural community– particularly in Quebec–would be enraged if this happened. But then if supply management is watered down to allow more imports from the US, especially in dairy, the dairy farmers–particularly in Quebec–will be equally enraged. Which group has the greater political clout? In both cases, Quebec-based interest groups have a card to play denied to others in Canada. It is called the Bloc Quebecois, and if enough support bleeds from the Liberals to the Bloc, that could just open the way to the Conservatives to form the national government they so desperately crave. The cultural mavens in Toronto have little choice; either support the Liberals or face a worse fate when those Conservative cowboys from Alberta take the reins of power.

The Quebec cultural community which insists that measures are needed to ensure that foreign streamers both contribute financially to support Canadian content (Cancon) and ensure that Cancon (when expressed in French) is “discoverable”, has yet another card up its sleeves. It is called Bill 109, Quebec legislation (that is probably ultra vires since broadcasting clearly falls within federal jurisdiction) that purports to regulate the discoverability of French-language cultural content in the digital environment. If Canada gives way on the Online Streaming Act in CUSMA negotiations, watch Quebec fill the void. So where does all this leave the Carney government? Between a rock and a hard place.

It is true, as Menzies has pointed out, that the CRTC has been very slow, plodding even, in dealing with implementation of the OSA. It may even be overwhelmed, with inadequate staff as he suggests. The fact that implementation is still a work in progress makes it easier for the US government to bring pressure to stop or at least to modify rollout of the legislation, whereas other objectives mentioned in recent USTR hearings, such as changes to the Bank Act to benefit US financial institutions or measures to terminate supply management would require significant legislative and regulatory change to undo measures that have been in place for decades. Best to nip it in the bud, or to kill it in the egg, as they say in Quebec.  

Canada’s planned introduction of a Digital Services Tax (DST) is a prime example of a nipped-in-the-bud policy. A DST deals with tax avoidance measures implemented by large digital multinationals by taxing their in-country revenues rather than their manipulated profits. Some countries, such as the UK, France, Spain, Italy etc had already implemented a DST before Trump’s return to office and seem to have got away with it, even though Google, Microsoft, Amazon, META and others of that ilk have the Trump Administration’s ear. Canada intended to implement a DST several years ago but dithered and dragged its feet, finally passing legislation in 2024 that would have brought a DST into effect on June 30, 2025, backdated to 2022 when the law should have been put into effect in the first place. Unfortunately for Canada, the implementation date fell right in the middle of the Trump tariff war and Canadian efforts to negotiate some relief. But rather than postponing implementation yet again–and using the possibility of a future DST as negotiating collateral–Canada “bravely” announced it was going ahead with implementation (regardless of the consequences). Until it wasn’t. Trump tweeted that he was cancelling trade negotiations with Canada because of the DST and voilà, over a weekend, the DST was cancelled (on June 29, 2025).

Trade talks resumed and actually appeared to be making some progress with respect to sectoral tariffs such as steel until the next excuse Trump found to end them. This time it was over Ontario’s World Series free trade ads that ran on US television, using Ronald Reagan’s words from a 1980s era speech praising free trade and condemning protectionist tariffs. The content of those ads may have been accurate, but the result was one of Canada’s more prominent “own goal” moments. While Doug Ford may have derived some brief satisfaction from getting under Donald Trump’s skin, the steelworkers of Sault Ste. Marie, who might have benefited from a rumoured sectoral deal on steel, have been paying the price. I think this fiasco helps explain the public anger of US Ambassador to Canada Pete Hoekstra (who surely wins the 2025 “Bull in a China shop” award) who crudely vented his frustration that a deal so close to fruition got blown out of the water through Premier Doug’s ill-considered initiative.

But what about supply management? Canada should be taking a long, hard look at the wisdom of continuing to defend this 1970s policy that almost every other country has since abandoned. Instead, it should use the CUSMA negotiations as the reason to ditch a monopoly that protects a few chosen producers of supply managed commodities at the expense of consumers and the rest of the economy. Unfortunately, that won’t happen because of Canadian political realities but there is still scope for some wiggle room. In recent years, Canada has been forced as part of its trade negotiations to open slivers of the dairy market to EU countries, CPTPP trading partners, and to the US through the CUSMA. The dairy industry screamed blue murder but was paid off for having to face a bit more competition. As part of liberalizing as little as possible, Canada routinely plays games with its commitments by awarding import quotas to the same domestic dairy industry with which exporters of dairy products to Canada are competing. Some additional foreign cheese and dairy products become available to consumers but in effect the fox is in charge of deciding which chickens get let in, and at what price. Even though this policy is an albatross around Canada’s neck, such is the power of the dairy industry (which is reputed to control the outcome of no less than eight ridings in Quebec) that all political parties support keeping supply management off the table in all trade negotiations, and passed legislation to this effect. In a political environment where the government is one vote short of a majority, risking the ire of Quebec dairy farmers is a risky business.

Does that mean that supply management is completely off the table and instead there should be another sacrificial lamb, such as domestic broadcasting and cultural policy, as Peter Menzies has suggested? This is a doubtful proposition. Despite all the posturing about supply management being “off the table”, there will almost certainly be some concessions to the US, even if it is only in the way the tariff free import quotas are managed. The Carney government will claim it is defending supply management, while making some tweaks to the system. It can do the same for cultural industries. Defend the essence but find compromises that US industry can live with.

Like supply management, the Online Streaming Act also has wiggle room in its implementation. Already we have seen the CRTC announce changes to Cancon definitions that introduce greater flexibility and go some way toward meeting the concerns of the (largely US-based) content streamers, while preserving elements of protection for Canadian production. (Canadian makeup and hair design artists will be happy as use of their services adds an element of “Canadianness” to a production that could be useful in meeting the Cancon definition. This just goes to show that you can never discount the influence of a specific lobby). While the US has laid out some maximum wish-list objectives, including withdrawal of the Online Streaming Act (as well as the Online News Act), there are domestic political realities in Canada that will constrain Canadian trade negotiators from sacrificing the cultural sector to gain other objectives, just as there are with regard to supply management. The US may hold a big stick in the negotiations, but Canada is not without cards to play. It just has to be careful how to play them, and when mobilizing support inside the US to do so in a way that does not offend the touchy amour-propre of Donald Trump.

The end result for Canada will not be water or wine, but rather how much water to allow into the wine. Some dilution will be necessary but at the end of the day, for domestic political reasons (particularly in Quebec), the liquid in the glass still will still have to resemble wine more than water. This applies equally to cultural industries and broadcasting as well as to supply management. It is far from an either/or situation.

© Hugh Stephens, 2026. All Rights Reserved.

The Online Streaming Act: Dealing with US Industry Concerns (The Cancon Factor)

A vintage television set displaying the Canadian flag.

Image: Shutterstock

Last month I wrote about the spectre of US trade retaliation against measures impacting or possibly impacting US streaming services as the Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) proceeds with implementation of the Online Streaming Act (formerly Bill C-11). The Computer & Communications Industry Association (CCIA), a US trade association that includes, among others, Amazon, Google, Meta and Apple, has taken aim at this process, claiming it is discriminatory and violates Canadian commitments under the CUSMA/USMCA, the trade agreement that replaced NAFTA. A core element of CCIA’s argument is that the very concept of Canadian content (Cancon) is discriminatory because it violates Article 19.4 of CUSMA which calls for “national treatment” of a digital product;

“No Party shall accord less favorable treatment to a digital product created, produced, published, contracted for, commissioned, or first made available on commercial terms in the territory of another Party, or to a digital product of which the author, performer, producer, developer, or owner is a person of another Party, than it accords to other like digital products”

What is Article 19.4 intended to cover? As an example, if rules are imposed prohibiting digital products from causing harm to children, the same rules should apply to both domestic and foreign products. However, do special requirements regarding Cancon audiovisual or music products (such as airtime quotas on radio or possible “discoverability” requirements for streamers) constitute discrimination against US digital products? Maybe. Is all music and AV content fungible or is Cancon somehow different, i.e. not a “like digital product”? If Cancon is “different”, what is it that differentiates it? That is not an easy question to answer because of the many criteria that go into determining whether a product is considered Canadian for regulatory purposes.

I took a stab a couple of years ago at explaining how Cancon is defined (“Unravelling the Complexities of the Canadian Content (Cancon) Conundrum”). For AV products, it is basically a combination of four elements; production control, copyright and distribution rights, creative positions and production spend. The CRTC definition and the definition used by the Canadian Audio-Visual Certification Office (CAVCO), which distributes certain tax credits, are slightly different with the latter being more stringent. For music there is the MAPL system. As explained by the CRTC, to qualify as Canadian content, a musical selection must generally fulfil at least two of the following conditions: M (music): the music is composed entirely by a Canadian; A (artist): the music is, or the lyrics are, performed principally by a Canadian; P (performance): the musical selection consists of a live performance that is recorded wholly in Canada, or performed wholly in Canada and broadcast live in Canada, and L (lyrics): the lyrics are written entirely by a Canadian. The CRTC is proposing that the “P” criteria be dropped owing to changing patterns in the music industry, notably the many Canadian artists recording outside Canada, such as in Nashville.

Qualifying as Cancon is complicated, but it has value. Cancon certification provides access to various subsidies and funds as well as providing a product that meets airtime and broadcast obligations, where and when they exist. In the aftermath of the enactment of the Online Streaming legislation, a key question is whether streamers (like broadcasters) will be required to meet certain content quotas, if indeed it is even feasible to impose content quotas on streamers. The different delivery model, where it is the consumer who “pulls” content from a broad menu rather than a broadcaster who “serves up” a given offering, makes it almost impossible to impose content quotas. Theoretically, you could require a streamer to make available a specified inventory of Cancon, or even to promote Cancon (referred to as “discoverability”), but there is no way of making consumers actually watch or listen to Canadian productions. Trying to apply a 20th century broadcast model of regulation to 21st century streaming is not a good fit. Regulators around the world are grappling with this reality. One of the arguments for imposing an expenditure requirement on streamers, both domestic and international, to support the creation of Cancon is to compensate for the lack of applicability of content quotas in a streaming environment.

A core feature of certified Cancon at present is that it cannot, by definition, be produced by a non-Canadian regardless of whether all the creative talent (writers, directors, performers, designers, composers etc.) and production spend would otherwise meet Cancon criteria. There is a complicated formula that awards points for creative roles filled by Canadians, with a specified number of points required to qualify under different programs.  The fact that a non-Canadian production may be a Canadian story filmed in Canada with Canadian actors is irrelevant with respect to Cancon certification. In short, the colour of the money (the production company) is a determining factor. Additionally, under CAVCO rules, a foreign studio or producer cannot hold the intellectual property, (the copyright) in a Cancon production. A Canadian production company must be the copyright holder for all commercial exploitation purposes for a minimum of 25 years.

As part of implementing the Online Streaming Act, the CRTC was instructed to review the definition of Cancon. The Commission subsequently held public hearings in which ownership of copyright became a key issue. Opinions ranged from expanding the CAVCO requirements to all forms of Cancon to eliminating copyright ownership as a factor. The streamers, who now have (contested) financial obligations to fund Cancon, generally prefer to own copyright in productions. It is not a surprise that they object to being required to fund Cancon productions while being denied the opportunity to own and exploit the rights. Supporters of a more restrictive Cancon definition point out that foreign streamers are free to license Cancon qualifying productions from the Canadian rightsholder. However, a restrictive definition tied to financing and copyright ownership eliminates the possibility of direct financing by foreign streamers and could mean they would in effect be paying twice, first by contributing to the Fund that financed the production and second, by paying to acquire the rights. Moreover, there is no guarantee that the rights would be available on acceptable terms.

Those advocating for a comprehensive Cancon definition that includes financing and IP ownership as factors argue this is necessary to create and maintain a viable Canadian industry. But such restrictions have two effects. First, if copyrights must be retained, this removes from Canadian producers/rightsholders the ability to sell the rights at a time of their choosing (and possibly use the funds to produce more Cancon). Not all productions will have a sustaining revenue stream over time. It should be left to the producer to judge whether to cash out now or license the product while retaining ownership. Second, requiring that the producer be Canadian for a production to be certified as Cancon disincentivizes foreign streamers from self producing content showcasing Canadian stories, artists, locations etc. They can do so but are denied all Cancon credit for such productions. The cost of such productions does not count against their required financial contribution (currently 5% of revenues) nor does the production qualify as Canadian content in terms of meeting existing (or possibly future) content quotas. If a goal of Cancon policy is to promote expressions of Canadian culture through creation of financially viable productions, disincentivizing foreign producers from putting their toes into the Cancon lake makes no sense. Production of Cancon by global enterprises like the streamers will help ensure global distribution, meeting both cultural projection objectives as well as exposing Cancon to new markets.

There is also the question of subsidies provided to producers of Cancon. Under current definitions, the US studios are not eligible to access funds earmarked to produce Cancon (even though they are required to contribute to these funds). This could be dealt with giving foreign studios “contribution credit” for self-financed Cancon productions. It’s worth noting the studios are already offered generous subsidies–euphemistically referred to as tax credits–to undertake non-Canadian production in Canada, and no-one complains about that, except Donald Trump. Trump has been rattling the chains over so-called “runaway production” and has threatened to impose tariffs on movies made outside the US.

While I think many of the concerns of the foreign streamers could be addressed through a more flexible definition of Canadian content, I am not confident the CRTC will see it this way given the policy instructions it received from the government at the time the legislation was proclaimed. Can it comply with this guidance while not painting itself into a CUSMA corner? The Commission is directed to take international commitments into account, although there is no specific reference to CUSMA, only the 2005 UNESCO Convention on Cultural Diversity.

From my perspective it is not realistic for US streamers to expect a free ride (and they probably don’t) but Canada and the CRTC need to avoid being too greedy. They should also be flexible in defining Cancon, focussing more on the promotion of Canadian stories, music and talent and less on maintenance of an industrial policy that relies on protectionism for a favoured few. A policy that calls on foreign streamers to invest in Canadian creativity, given the revenues that they generate in Canada, is not unreasonable; denying them the ability to take a direct ownership stake in the products to which they contribute funding would be short-sighted. The policy straitjacket that exists with respect to Cancon sets up a search for draconian solutions, like the CCIA’s threats. In short, remove the Cancon handcuffs and keep the required contributions reasonable. Give credit for funds expended on content that meets Canadian artistic and cultural criteria. I think this would help blunt the frontal attack from US audiovisual streamers. Music is more complicated. Meanwhile, Canada needs to be careful not to negate any trade obligations it has taken on and avoid being forced into the Article 32.6 “cultural exemption” corner. 

But wait, I have an idea! If all else fails, there is also CUSMA Article 32.2 (b). “Nothing in this agreement shall be construed to…. preclude a Party from applying measures that it considers necessary for the fulfilment of its obligations with respect to …the protection of its own essential security interests.” If Donald Trump considers that importing kitchen cabinets from Canada threatens the national security of the United States perhaps it is not such a stretch to conclude that the preservation of Canadian culture (whatever that is) is just as essential to Canada’s national security, justifying any measures one chooses to employ. Is this a serious option? You decide.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025.  All Rights Reserved.

In writing this opinion piece, I have drawn on my background both as a former Canadian government official who has had some dealings with international trade issues over the years, as well as past experience as an executive with one of the US companies which, at the time, controlled a major Hollywood studio. (Time Warner). However, whatever “solutions” I have proposed to address US industry concerns regarding Cancon are mine alone. I hope they are a useful contribution to the debate, but I want to be clear that I do not speak for the CCIA or the streamers.

US Retaliation Against the Online Streaming Act: How Real is the Threat?   

Illustration of the Canadian flag overlaid with yellow caution tape labeled 'TARIFFS', featuring American flags, symbolizing trade tensions between Canada and the USA.

Image: Shutterstock

As CRTC hearings on implementation of the Online Streaming Act (formerly Bill C-11) grind slowly forward as part of the Commission’s deliberations as to how foreign audiovisual and audio (music) streaming services may be required to meet Canadian content (Cancon) and discoverability requirements, while determining the extent of their financial contribution to various funds supporting Canadian content, affected US industry players are not sitting on their hands. As you would expect, they are deploying a range of tactics to fight back using their industry associations, the Motion Picture Association (MPA)-Canada, representing Netflix, Disney, Sony, Paramount, Universal, Amazon Prime and Warner Bros. Discovery, and the Computer & Communications Industry Association (CCIA), representing among others Amazon, Apple, Google and Meta, as their vehicles of choice.

MPA-Canada is currently appealing to the Federal Court the CRTC decision that its members must contribute 1.5% of annual revenues to the Independent Local News Fund, arguing that the studios do not produce news and should not be required to contribute to a line of business in which they are not active. Apple, Spotify and Amazon are also appealing the full 5% payment on the grounds it is a tax the CRTC is not mandated to apply. The 1.5% contribution to news is part of the CRTC’s initial decision that the streamers should, as a “downpayment”, contribute 5% of revenues to fund Canadian production.  The MPA has also undertaken a lobbying campaign to point out how much its members already contribute to production in Canada, (CAD$6.7 billion in 2023, more than the CBC, Canadian Media Fund and Telefilm Canada combined) even though much of that content does not count as CanCon under current rules.

To this “positive” argument, the CCIA by contrast has added a more hard line, “negative” approach, releasing a study that calculates the amount the CRTC’s compulsory contributions will purportedly cost the US industry. Assuming the levy stays at 5% of revenues (by no means an assured outcome as Canadian broadcasters are urging the CRTC to impose contributions of 20 to 30%, similar to the obligations they face), CCIA estimates this will cost US streamers between $2.19 billion and $6.96 billion (all figures USD) by 2030. The estimate of losses is bundled with CCIA’s claim that the financial obligations constitute a violation of the CUSMA (known as the USMCA in the US) because it creates a preferential regime for Canadian content “thereby discriminating against content classified as American or from a third country”. In the eyes of the CCIA, actions under the Online Streaming Act violate the principle of “national treatment” in which Party A agrees to treat the products and services of Party B “no less favourably” than its own products and services. In support of this claim, CCIA cites the Investment and Digital Trade Chapters of CUSMA/USMCA, Chapters 14 and 19 respectively. According to CCIA, the Online Streaming Act’s “inconsistency with core trade obligations is beyond dispute”. Given this “indisputable” fact, CCIA states that “if challenged, Canada can be expected to invoke its cultural industries exception (Article 32.6) as a basis for justifying the inevitable discrimination….”

Article 32.6 is part of the General Exceptions Chapter of the CUSMA/USMCA. It states, in part, “This Agreement does not apply to a measure adopted or maintained by Canada with respect to a cultural industry…” The production, distribution, sale, or exhibition of film or video recordings as well as audio or video music recordings are included in the definition of a cultural industry. As I have written elsewhere (NAFTA and the Cultural Exception) Article 32.6, while in theory exempting defined cultural industries from the obligations of the Agreement (the NAFTA provision was essentially rolled over into the CUSMA), has a sting in its tail. If Canada applies any discriminatory measures that violate the agreement using the cultural exclusion as the pretext, the US is fully within its rights to retaliate with measures of “equivalent commercial effect”, in any sector. The CCIA’s $2.19 billion or $6.95 billion numbers need to be viewed in this context.

The first question, therefore, is would Canada need to resort to Article 32.6 to justify measures taken under the Online Streaming Act? I argued in an earlier paper I wrote for the School of Public Policy at the University of Calgary that given the current structure of the obligations, Article 32.6 would not be in play because the measures in question are not inconsistent with CUSMA, given the Agreement’s precise wording. You can read the detailed arguments in the paper, but essentially my position is that neither the Chapter 14 Investment reference nor the Chapter 19 Digital Trade provision cited by CCIA are relevant because content streaming is covered by a separate part of the Agreement, Chapter 15, Cross-border Trade in Services. The terms of the Online Streaming Act, as applied by the CRTC provide “national treatment” to foreign streaming services. In fact, they impose lesser requirements on foreign streamers with respect to carriage of Cancon than they do on Canadian streamers.

But this interpretation is only my personal view. I have no idea is this is the interpretation of the trade policy gurus at Global Affairs Canada (I haven’t spoken to them and even if I did, they would be unlikely to tell me what their position would be on a hypothetical trade case) and is almost certainly not the interpretation favoured by officials in the Office of the US Trade Representative (USTR). And certainly not by CCIA. CCIA’s position is that a show or track streamed in Canada is a digital product, (even though it describes its members as providing “streaming services”). The Agreement is clear that there should be no discrimination against digital products of the other Party i.e. they should be accorded “national treatment”, although domestic products can be subsidized. On the other hand, if streamed content is not considered a digital product (nor an investment, which according to CUSMA cannot be subject to “performance requirements” as a condition of allowing the investment) but rather a cross-border service, the conditions applicable to delivery of the service are what counts. National treatment needs to apply to service delivery, and insofar as the Online Streaming Act is concerned, it does.

Whether streamed content is a digital product or a cross-border service clearly matters. If the US brought a CUSMA trade complaint against Canada–and if the CCIA view were to prevail–Canada would either have to change the way it treats US digital products carried by streaming services or defend its actions on the basis of the cultural exception, Article 32.6. If it did the latter, it would be opening itself to trade retaliation by the US, at an equivalent commercial level. In my experience and judgement, Canada would be most unlikely to resort to the exception to justify its actions precisely because of the consequences. The US would retaliate not just against the cultural sector, but in other areas that would set one industry or part of the country against another. To avoid this, the government would instead find some other way to comply with the Agreement by modifying the offending provision (as little as possible but as much as necessary), but doing so in a way, if possible, that still met all or most of its policy objectives.

It is also just possible, however, that Canada would be prepared to absorb the retaliation, calculated by CCIA to be between $400 and $500 million annually if the CRTC mandated contribution remains at 5% of revenues. This sounds like a big number but the random way the Trump Administration has been imposing tariffs on a range of Canadian products such as steel and aluminum (50%), lumber (45%), and autos (25%), industries where Canadian exports total tens of billions of dollars annually, makes $400 million in possible retaliation seem relatively minor. In effect, Trump’s erratic punitive behaviour has normalized trade retaliation–and devalued its effectiveness as a threat. But whatever response the Canadian government took, the first step would be to determine whether Canada was in fact in violation of the Agreement. If one Party considers that “an actual or proposed measure of another Party is or would be inconsistent with an obligation of this Agreement”, it can resort to the dispute settlement process. In the first instance, this involves consultation and if no resolution is reached, sometimes the constitution of a panel to decide the issue. (CUSMA/Article 31).

The CCIA itself cannot charge Canada with non-compliance, although it can raise the spectre of retaliation as it is doing. Only the US Government can bring a complaint, and at this stage it is not clear if it would be willing to do so. Given the range of trade disputes between the two countries, including unilateral tariffs on Canadian exports imposed by the Trump Administration on the basis of specious claims that Canada is a major source of fentanyl exports to the US (last year 0.2% of all fentanyl seized at the US border came from Canada; over 90% was from Mexico), or equally questionable grounds that exports of Canadian products ranging from aluminum to kitchen cabinets pose a national security threat to the US, the bilateral trade relationship hardly needs more issues. It will depend on the extent to which the streamers in the US have the ear of the Trump Administration. Given Trump’s insistence that Canada drop its planned Digital Sales Tax if it wanted to keep the current bilateral trade talks going , it is certainly within the realm of possibility that USTR would take up the CCIA’s case.

There is one other wrinkle to the cultural exception clause. Even if Canada does not justify its actions on the basis of Article 32.6, potentially the US could unilaterally declare it considers Canadian measures to fall under that provision and move to initiate retaliatory measures. If it did so, Canada would then be entitled to demand a panel to determine whether Article 32.6 is applicable, and if so, whether the retaliation met the “equivalent commercial effect” test. However, the key issue would still be to determine whether Canada had violated its commitments under the Agreement. If there is no violation of CUSMA’s terms, the cultural exception is moot. If all this has your head spinning, welcome to the green eyeshade world of trade practitioners.

CCIA, in pushing back against the provisions of the Online Streaming Act, has resorted to the threat of trade retaliation as one more tool in its policy toolbox. That is to be expected. With this in mind, the CRTC will be carefully reviewing how much leeway it has in trade policy terms and needs to keep Canada’s CUSMA commitments in mind when implementing policy. In a following blog posting I will outline what I think Canada and the CRTC need to consider.

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