By Frank Macek
The concept of the subchannel was born. For viewers, it meant more programming choices without paying a larger bill, and for broadcasters, it looked like an untapped revenue stream waiting to be exploited.
In those early days, the airwaves were flooded with new names like MeTV, Antenna TV, Cozi TV, This TV, Grit, Bounce, Laff, Heroes & Icons, and Comet. These networks were programmed primarily with reruns of classic television shows, low-cost syndicated programming, and specialty movies. For audiences, it was suddenly possible to watch The Andy Griffith Show, MASH*, or I Love Lucy on demand from free, over-the-air signals.
For station owners, it was an opportunity to sell targeted local ads, earn national ad revenue from the diginets, and use those channels as bargaining chips in retransmission negotiations with cable and satellite providers. In theory, it was a win for everyone. Even today at WKYC Studios, we offer a total of seven subchannels in addition to our main Channel 3 high definition feed.
For a time, subchannels felt like the second coming of free television. The nostalgia-driven model was inexpensive to operate yet highly engaging for viewers who longed to relive TV’s so-called golden age. By the mid-2010s, stations like MeTV were household brands in many markets, building loyal fan bases on the strength of classic shows that had stood the test of time. Antenna TV tapped into the popularity of Three’s Company and even revived The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. Bounce created an important cultural niche for African American audiences, while smaller players like Comet leaned into science fiction and cult programming. Broadcasters who had once worried about how to use their extra bandwidth suddenly saw it as a revenue machine.
Viewers who had once relied on linear reruns for comfort television were now able to binge entire seasons at their own pace, without commercials, and on devices more convenient than the living room TV. What had made subchannels special—endless reruns of beloved classics—was suddenly available everywhere, on demand, and often with higher quality and more control.
The impact was devastating. Subchannels were slow to evolve while streaming platforms reinvented themselves every year. Where subchannels leaned on Gilligan’s Island, Frasier, and Gunsmoke to fill airtime, streaming platforms offered the same shows alongside a growing library of originals. Younger audiences who grew up in the streaming era never developed the habit of turning to over-the-air extras. To them, subchannels were invisible. Even among older viewers who had adopted antennas during the digital transition, many eventually migrated to streaming because the convenience and variety were simply too compelling to ignore.
The problem wasn’t only competition; it was also the lack of innovation within the subchannel model itself. Many networks doubled down on the same shows year after year without offering new hooks to retain viewers. Their branding became stale, often built around the idea of “retro” without refreshing the content mix. While MeTV remained the most recognizable, even it has been criticized for running the same handful of series on repeat. Antenna TV and Cozi leaned heavily on tried-and-true sitcoms but struggled to expand beyond nostalgia. The result has been stagnation, and in television, stagnation almost always leads to irrelevance.
Behind the scenes, the economics of bandwidth also began to shift. When subchannels first launched, stations could comfortably carry two or three in addition to their main HD feed. But as demand for better resolution increased and 4K and NextGen TV (ATSC 3.0) entered the conversation, broadcasters faced tougher decisions about how to allocate their finite spectrum.
Should they continue devoting valuable bandwidth to niche diginets with declining audiences, or should they invest in higher-quality pictures and emerging data services that promised more lucrative returns? Increasingly, many groups have chosen the latter. Gray Television has quietly shed weaker subchannel partners in certain markets. Scripps, which owns Ion, Bounce, and Court TV, has put more emphasis on its in-house brands rather than outside diginets. Nexstar has pursued the growth of The CW and NewsNation as its national programming priorities. The message is clear: subchannels are becoming expendable.
The revenue reality further explains the trend. While subchannels generated modest income, it was never transformative. National ad revenue is thin, local ad sales are difficult to sustain, and retransmission consent fees tied to subchannels are increasingly resisted by distributors.
As cable and satellite providers hemorrhage subscribers, they are less willing to pay premiums for niche offerings that few viewers watch. Compared to the billions being poured into streaming—even those services that operate at a loss in hopes of long-term dominance—the economics of subchannels look insignificant. For broadcasters seeking growth, the incentive to keep investing in diginets simply isn’t there.
There are, of course, exceptions. MeTV remains the standout success story, consistently ranking among the top subchannels nationwide. Bounce has carved out a steady audience. Court TV has capitalized on America’s fascination with live trials and true crime. But these are outliers. For every MeTV, there are countless small subchannels operating on autopilot, recycling obscure series and public-domain movies without meaningful traction. Many exist more as filler than as viable brands.
The question now is whether NextGen TV could revive the model or sound its final death knell. The new standard offers promise with features like targeted advertising, interactive content, and hybrid delivery combining broadcast with broadband. In theory, subchannels could evolve into something more dynamic—linear networks with integrated on-demand libraries or customized ad experiences.
Yet such reinvention requires investment and vision, and most broadcasters may decide the effort isn’t worth it when streaming platforms dominate the conversation. The smarter play, many executives believe, is to use NextGen bandwidth for data services, emergency alerting, and improved main-channel experiences, not to prop up aging rerun networks.
Talk to viewers today and the evidence of decline is anecdotal but clear. Ask the average household if they watch subchannels regularly and many will shrug. Some have antennas but stick to the major networks for news, sports, and prime-time entertainment. Cord-cutters gravitate to streaming services, not free diginets. For the once-promising subchannels that marketed themselves as “free cable alternatives,” the competition has moved far beyond their reach. In households juggling three, four, or five streaming subscriptions, the idea of waiting for The Twilight Zone to come on at midnight feels outdated.
The decline of subchannels is not dramatic, not the kind of collapse that makes headlines. Instead, it is quiet and gradual, a slow fade into the background of the television ecosystem. They have not disappeared entirely, and they may linger for years to come, but their cultural footprint has shrunk to the point of near-invisibility. Broadcasters once believed subchannels could transform their industry, but now they see them more as placeholders—a clever use of spectrum in a transitional moment that never quite lived up to the hype.
Fifteen years after their birth, subchannels are no longer the future. They are relics of a particular moment in broadcasting history, when digital offered the illusion of infinite choice and nostalgia seemed like a sustainable business model. The reality of today’s television environment—dominated by streaming platforms, shifting advertising dollars, and the coming wave of NextGen services—has pushed them to the margins. Some will hang on as long as they can squeeze value out of old content libraries, but the larger vision of subchannels powering a new era of free TV is over.
Frank’s Final Thoughts: The quiet decline of subchannels is a reminder that in television, innovation is only as strong as the audience willing to watch it. They were born out of opportunity, thrived on nostalgia, and are now fading into irrelevance. What once felt like a revolution has become little more than background noise. In the ever-changing world of television, that is perhaps the harshest verdict of all.