The Blockbuster vs. Netflix Battle that every Church Leader Needs toRead

I have vivid memories of going to my local Blockbuster video store on Friday nights as a young teenager to find the next Ninja movie on the row of Ninja genre b-rated movies.  There was a time when individuals flocked to their local Blockbuster to take the walk of decision making around the periphery of the store often times making several laps starting with the newest releases all the way to the past greats located on the internal rows of the store.  Do you remember the VCR days when you were penalized for not rewinding the tape prior to returning?  The expression, “Be kind and Rewind” was the ubiquitous greatest commandment of the video rental industry.  After all, how terrible it would be to open your videotape and have to spend 30 second waiting for it to rewind.  By the way, I don’t think my kids even have the term “rewind” in their vocabulary. 

How did the movie rental giant collapse in a seemingly short period of time?  I think the story of Blockbuster is very relevant for church workers today.  In a word, Blockbuster’s demise was Netflix. But according to Dain Dunston’s blog story, there is much more to the Blockbuster/Netflix battle than meets the eye.  In short, Netflix leveraged the emerging Internet/streaming technology and created a model of getting movies to customers that did not involve driving to a facility, hoping said movie was in stock, waiting in line, and then dealing with late fees if not returned to said facility. 

But, Netflix was greatly outmatched by Blockbuster’s capital.  The story is told that both CEOs engaged in confidential talks about a merger.  Netflix was more than willing to sell to Blockbuster.  In one particular conference call, Netflix CEO admitted 22 times by mentioning Blockbuster that it had no real plan to stop Blockbuster from stealing its 1 million customers.  Because of boardroom fighting, the deal was never signed. 

Simultaneous to Netflix’s willingness to sellout to Blockbuster, the video giant made probably one of the worst CEO transitions in history.  The new CEO of Blockbuster forgot about their business model and ignored the previous strategies to leverage the Internet.   Out of a strong commitment to remain fixed to a dying model of managing brick and mortar (all the thousands of Blockbuster stores across the nation) and requiring their customers to drive to them multiple times a week proved to be the death nail of the video giant.  Of course, you know the rest of the story.  Neflix is now the primary delivery method for most movies.  What was one time the only concept of getting a video (epistemology) is now so archaic that when I talk to my seven year old about going to a movie rental store to get a video there is literally a blank stare on her face.  In fact, not only have I used terms that are not even in her vocabulary, but I also referenced a concept (epistemology) that is not even in her way of thinking or knowing. 

The moral of the story of the collapse of Blockbuster is not only a model of failed leadership, but more than that, it is a story of becoming so big and invested in brick and mortar capital that any notion of pivoting into a more nimble (technology laden) approach was so strange that it never occurred as a viable option.  To put in philosophical terms, Blockbuster had a particular epistemology (it believed that people only rent videos through a consumer model that required the use of a middleman or retailer.  Since people drive to grocery stores and clothing stores and engage in an exchange, then this must be the only way to deliver movies. 

Epistemology: How do we know
what we know?

All through history, we see examples of epistemology change.  In particular, church history is full of 500-year intervals of major epistemology changes (Tickle 2012).   Put differently, human history is full of fundamental changes that transcend merely technology and methodology.  Higher-level change that actually rewires the human brain that leads to new neural networks where old neuron constellations not only fail to fire they don’t even talk to each other.  For example, my seven and eleven year old trying to imagine the idea of a phone that only connected two individuals in audible ways for communication is not just weird; it isn’t even a knowledge construct accessible to them.  This is a simple way to illustrate a much bigger shift underway.

The Church in the United States is no longer the “Blockbuster” it used to be.  There are major shifts taking place in Western Christiandom as it relates to spirituality.  Charles Taylor, considered by many and me to be our C.S. Lewis of Western philosophy, tells the story of the secular age over the span of 500 years.  His opening premise in his book A Secular Age, “Why is it that 500 years ago it was virtually impossible NOT to believe in God and, yet, today’s faith, even for the staunchest believers, is only one human possibility among others.”  In other words, Christians today tolerate God language and even God relationship, but the idea that their success or flourishing is exclusively based on a God that blesses is no longer the case.  For a lot of reasons, Taylor’s observations need to be relevant for those in church work.  If the 800 plus pages of his work is too much, consider James K.A. Smith’s companion to Taylor’s A Secular Age that is only a few hundred pages. 

This essay is not intended to summarize Taylor’s primary viewpoints; however, I would like to focus on one major theme that seems to resonate in his explanation of secularity.  For many, the term “secular” means absent of God or spirituality.  Taylor redefines this term to reference a version of spirituality that is flat lacking the same level of enchantment that seemed to be obviously evident a few centuries ago.  Side note, divorce yourself from connecting the term “enchantment” with Disney.  Instead, “enchantment” is a reference to a particular worldview that had plenty of room to entertain notions of divine and spiritual movement among individuals and the church in a way that was haunted.  In other words, a few centuries ago it was common language to refer to God’s movement and interaction with humanity through spiritual means (the Holy Spirit or Holy Ghost).  To use Taylor’s language, believers were more “porous” when it came to being “open” to the idea of a spiritual realm at work in their lives.  The Spirit moved in-and-out because of their pourousness.  This is contrasted with the “buffered” or no longer porous individual that is skeptical to any type of haunted or spiritual language.  Further, the intellectual and enlightenment distance separating a few centuries ago from today is too great to overcome. 

As a result, there are plenty of Blockbusters still hanging on to their models of capital and potentially missing the underground movement that is taking place in our Western culture, specifically, Christianity.  It would be too easy to point fingers at specific churches or denominations as it relates to their Blockbuster-like resistance to reframe their approach of doing Christianity.  This essay is not intended to call out any one particular church or movement, but instead, is intended to provide a thought-provoking dialogue regarding the capital we allow to drive our models of being church and even the ways we exclusively frame Jesus and the narrative of scripture.

I grew up in a church movement that grew from its earliest stages of only desiring to be mobile and staunchly evangelistic for the purpose of post-millennially ushering in the kingdom of God and bringing about the second return of Jesus.  This popular 19^th century eschatology was the driving force to ignite urgency.  There was no time to stop and conduct capital campaigns or invest resources for the sake of constructing a global organization.  As theologies shifted over time, churches, not just the one I referenced, took on a more permanent posture putting down deep stakes in contemporary culture.  This coupled with gaining capital: social, physical, fiscal, market, and even cognitive capital developed a particular way of imagining what and how the community of faith (the Church) was to be and how it was to function.  It is interesting to point out that First-Century Christians had next to no capital.  Something happens when faith and doing church is filtered through a capitalist ideology.  There is more at stake that can be lost.  Therefore, theology, decisions, church governance, and a host of other aspects are driven by capital. 

Unfortunately, human capital has become the biggest distraction from the original call of Jesus to discipleship.  I often wonder if Western churches are even able to discern this is taking place, but individuals are no longer viewed as being infinitely valuable because they are made in the image of God.  Instead, they are viewed as a hybrid being.  Someone who has a soul to win (notice even that expression reeks of gaining capital) along with someone that is capable of bringing their capital to the table.  Empty seats, because pews are no longer kosher for church growth experts, are tantamount to low rev airline seats.  If they are empty they are costing the organization/church.  Therefore, each seat has a potential capital associated with it that translates into keeping the Blockbuster operational.  If you have not picked up as of yet I am probably being way too critical in my commentary.  The truth is somewhere along this hyperbolic spectrum. 

This generation lacks the equipment
to connect with some of the vestiges
that so many churches remain loyal too.

All the while, there has been an epistemic shift that is growing up generations of children soon to be adults that will not even have the cognitive/spiritual equipment by which to play the videotapes/DVD’s Blockbuster has to offer.  Put differently, the brand loyalty that one time kept me going back to stalk the aisles for B-rated ninja movies was quickly replaced with a more efficient, less robust and capital heavy model to get my movie fix.  It just so happens economically it became cheaper because the cost to keep the behemoth alive was no longer the primary strategy.  I wonder how many churches are stuck in Blockbuster mode.  The Netflix generation is not any less spiritual or interested in Jesus.  In fact, they are less encumbered to live out their faith because they are not “card-carrying” you fill in the blank.  They may actually have a clearer understanding of “this world is not my home” hermeneutic; they are not interested in fixing their capital to something that is temporary.  Further, they are equally disinterested in fixing their allegiances with an entity that calls itself church when in actuality it is an entity that continues to fight for market dominance in a capital system that lacks kingdom currency.  While this generation lacks the business savvy of previous generations, they do not lack a passion to love and serve.  

Side note, along with the construction of denominational/sectarian organizations and allegiances comes a particular language and set of terms that serve to bolster the movements.  If Taylor is correct, the church may have to not only retool away from irrelevant practices, customs, and power structures, it will also need to re-think their very language games because it just may be that this generation and younger are not even equipped to play the videotapes they are attempting to put in their heads.