Imagine a world where movies, music, exhibitions, plays and TV shows are nudged, funded or steered by state actors so that everyday tastes, memories and loyalties tilt in a government’s favor — and most consumers never know. That scenario, once the stuff of dystopian fiction from George Orwell to Margaret Atwood, increasingly describes how states pursue soft power in the 21st century: not always by blunt propaganda, but by discreetly shaping cultural production so it aligns with political goals while preserving the appearance of independent creativity.
Why governments do this is straightforward. Cultural soft power — the capacity to shape preferences through art, entertainment and stories — boosts tourism, trade and global influence, and can entrench domestic legitimacy. What’s new is how many governments now try to steer that power covertly: rewarding favorable narratives with funding, consolidating media ownership among allies, imposing regulatory pressure that prompts self-censorship, or encouraging particular historical or moral frames without admitting state direction. Disguise is part of the instrument’s potency; overt interference would undermine credibility.
United States: ownership and editorial alignment
Recent corporate and political manoeuvres in the US illustrate how media consolidation and political alignment can reshape cultural outputs. After Skydance Media’s 2025 involvement with Paramount and related moves at CBS News, critics warned of shifts in editorial direction reflecting the preferences of new owners and their political allies. The broader concern extends beyond journalism: if major studios and platforms fall under ownership sympathetic to a governing administration, entertainment choices — from film themes to which projects get financing and distribution — may reflect those affinities. The outcome can be subtler than direct censorship: selection bias in greenlighting, talent recruitment, or marketing that nudges mainstream culture toward particular narratives.
Turkey: dizis, regulation and the neo-Ottoman narrative
Turkey offers a more explicit case of cultural engineering through audiovisual content. Turkish soap operas, or dizis, have enjoyed international success while also becoming channels for domestic narratives promoted by President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s government. State influence operates through a mix of incentives and pressures: regulatory fines and sanctions from the Radio and Television Supreme Council (RTÜK) against content deemed immoral or politically sensitive; public encouragement of historical dramas that romanticize Ottoman heritage; and incentives favoring conservative, family-oriented portrayals. The result is both exportable soft power and a domestic media ecology shaped by incentives to self-censor.
Hungary and Poland: funding, laws and media networks
In Hungary, Viktor Orbán and Fidesz centralized cultural policy over more than a decade: reshaping funding streams, instituting “culture laws,” and consolidating outlets into pro-government conglomerates such as the Central European Press and Media Foundation (KESMA). State-directed funding through bodies like the National Film Institute has promoted films that align with nationalist historical perspectives, while independent outlets were marginalized, producing a narrow cultural narrative.
Poland’s Ministry of Culture and National Heritage has likewise steered grants and public projects toward conservative and patriotic agendas, while commercial acquisitions by state-linked corporations (for instance, the purchase of local media chains) have extended indirect control. Initiatives such as museum grant programs with titles like “Patriotism of Tomorrow” reflect the use of cultural institutions to promote a preferred historical imagination.
Cold War versus contemporary models
This isn’t the Soviet model of total cultural command, where ballet companies and publishing houses were overtly state-owned and centrally directed. Modern approaches are more hybrid and sophisticated. Rather than nationalizing arts institutions and imposing visible censorship, contemporary states mix legal reforms, targeted funding, regulatory levers and allied private ownership to nudge outcomes while denying direct control. The aim is plausible deniability: audiences consume popular culture that happens to reinforce state narratives without perceiving it as propaganda.
The digital layer: information overload and disguised influence
Social media and the fragmentation of attention complicate detection and resistance. The “narcotizing dysfunction” — a flood of information that breeds apathy instead of civic engagement — is exacerbated by influencers, platform algorithms and disinformation that hide who benefits from certain cultural trends. When content ecosystems are vast and attention is atomized, coordinated state nudges can blend into the background, making it harder for consumers to see deliberate shaping.
China and “Chinawood”: state-backed scale and content priorities
China’s model blends market mechanics with clear state priorities. Local governments and state agencies have invested heavily in infrastructure such as Hengdian World Studios, offering tax breaks, land and studios that enable large-scale production. Content rules and censorship guide what gets made and exported. The domestic market’s sheer size allows films to become blockbusters without global penetration; for example, the animation Ne Zha 2’s extraordinary domestic receipts showcased how a film aligned with domestic tastes and permitted narratives can become a cultural event. Even where studios appear commercial, content often respects state guidelines and priorities, reinforcing domestic values and, increasingly, exportable cultural themes.
When liberty isn’t required for influence
The main lesson is uncomfortable for democracies that have long linked soft power to openness and freedom of expression: effective cultural influence does not necessarily require liberal institutions. Governments with controlled or guided cultural sectors can still produce globally attractive films, series and music if they combine professional production value with narratives that resonate. What matters is the ability to produce and distribute compelling content; political systems partly shape the themes, but they do not wholly determine creative success.
What to watch for
Signs of covert cultural shaping include concentration of media ownership among pro-government actors; sudden shifts in funding priorities favoring particular historical or moral narratives; regulatory actions that prompt industry self-censorship; and corporate consolidations that place entertainment gatekeepers in political orbit. Audiences and cultural gatekeepers should be alert to patterns that reduce plurality, reward ideological conformity and create incentives for creators to avoid certain topics.
Conclusion
Governments everywhere are learning to wield cultural soft power more quietly and effectively than during the Cold War. Whether through strategic ownership, targeted subsidies, regulatory pressure or public-private alliances, states can embed political priorities into entertainment and cultural production without overt propaganda labels. That makes it harder to spot — and to resist — the political shaping of what we watch, teach and celebrate. The result is a cultural landscape where applause and affinities can be subtly orchestrated, and where media literacy and transparency about funding, ownership and regulation become essential defenses for pluralism.
[Kaitlyn Diana edited this piece.]
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.
