Pierre Karl Peladeau, CEO of Quebecor Media Inc. and the principal shareholder of parent company Quebecor Inc. (Reuters)

Pierre Karl Péladeau is one of the most influential and controversial figures in Canadian broadcasting.

His fans view him as the shrewd mastermind behind a profitable model to deliver Canadian content in this bewildering digital age. Péladeau’s critics see him as a cable mogul bent on pressuring Heritage Canada and the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) into executing his vision of how TV should get made. Under his influence, his detractors argue, Quebec television could lose its distinct character and become a French-language copy of the worst type of American TV.

Pierre Karl Péladeau doesn’t quite have the reach of Orwell’s Big Brother, but he comes pretty close, especially within the relatively closed world of Quebec media.

PKP, or the “King of Convergence,” has carved out a unique and enviable position within the media world. Not only does he own the cable-TV-internet-cellphone provider Videotron and Quebec’s most popular conventional broadcaster, TVA, he also presides over a massive newspaper and magazine empire that includes the high-profile tabloid Le Journal de Montreal; Montreal’s free subway daily; a slew of entertainment magazines; and the Sun Media and Osprey chains. On top of this, he also owns the 16-store music retailer Groupe Archambault Inc. (And he may soon be a part owner of the Montreal Canadians, along with Céline Dion.)

Péladeau doesn’t quite have the reach of Orwell’s Big Brother, but he comes pretty close, especially within the relatively closed world of Quebec media.

“Everyone needs Quebecor — musicians and TV makers rely on [Péladeau], as do many other creators. He’s become very powerful,” said Laval communications professor Florian Sauvageau, who recently co-produced a documentary with Jacques Godbout called Derriere la toile-le quatrième pouvoir (roughly, Behind the Veil: The Fourth Estate). “[Péladeau] has a very astute analysis of the future. And he has the power to impose his ideas.”

Péladeau also knows what the people want. In Quebec, most of the top 30 TV shows are homegrown, and most are broadcast on TVA, which caters to this province’s considerable appetite for cheap teleromans (kitchen soaps) and glitzy American-style programming in French. During 2008-2009’s high-TV season – September to April – the top five programs were on TVA: Star Academie ’s weekly gala and daily half-hour shows were in the top two spots; Dieu Merci (a sketch comedy show) held third place; the popular teleroman Annie et ses hommes is fourth and La Classe de 5eme, Quebec’s version of Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?, was in fifth place.

Péladeau was unavailable for an interview, but in a recent National Post op-ed piece, he outlined the free-market vision he’s been plugging to the CRTC, Canadian Heritage and anyone else who will listen. “Rather than using quotas and regulatory requirements that are outdated and unsuitable in a universe without borders,” he wrote, “we sincerely believe that the evolution of Canadian broadcasting must be driven by the success of Canadian programming.”

Marc-Andre Fortin is hoisted in the air after winning the Star Academie competition, a recurring series that airs on the TVA network. (David Boily/Canadian Press)

In other words, scrap those Cancon regulations and other silly rules meant to prop up our culture. Who needs the Broadcasting Act when Péladeau is the great protector of Cancon – at least in French?

Péladeau has been pushing the federal government to adopt his worldview since 2006, when he and fellow cable giant Jim Shaw defiantly ceased paying into the Canadian Television Fund (CTF). The CTF was set up to finance Canadian programming, and cable companies are required by law to funnel part of their individual profits into it. While most Canadians likely had no idea what all the fuss was about, the move by Péladeau and Shaw grabbed the attention of Canadian Heritage and the CRTC, and even prompted Sylvain Lafrance, vice-president of Radio-Canada’s French-language service, to call Péladeau a “hooligan.” Many independent Canadian producers, who relied on the $250-million CTF to produce their projects, feared that Péladeau’s aggressive stance signaled the end of Canadian TV as we know it.

Péladeau’s beef was that the CTF was a poorly managed “subsidy machine” out of step with the digital age. Both he and Shaw wanted to revamp the fund’s complicated management structure to give more power to cable providers, as well as to stop CBC/Radio-Canada’s privileged access to nearly 40 per cent of the fund’s cash. (In a 2005 report, Auditor General Sheila Fraser raised concerns about conflicts of interest within the CTF leadership, including the fact that some board members became funding recipients.)

But Péladeau went one step further than Shaw. He provided the Harper government with a handy blueprint for a new fund that would replace the CTF: the Quebecor Fund. “We want to manage our own fund," Péladeau told me in 2007. "We are a Canadian company and we already spend more on Canadian content than is required. We want to put more money into the system and have it managed in some way by the CRTC."

Although the Ministry of Canadian Heritage says many stakeholders were consulted, Péladeau’s proposal clearly guided the authors of the new Canadian Media Fund. The new fund, which replaced the CTF, was launched with much fanfare by federal Heritage Minister James Moore in March on the set of the CTV series Flashpoint. As the young minister proclaimed the start of a new age of Canadian TV, Péladeau stood grinning beside him.

Cable providers can now nominate five of the seven CMF board members, and CBC/Radio-Canada no longer has a guaranteed envelope of cash. Also serving Péladeau's interests: independent producers and other creative types no longer sit on the board. Stephen Waddell, the president of ACTRA, Canada’s largest actors union, said the changes were akin to “letting the fox control the hen house.”

Pierre Karl Peladeau's life partner, talk show host and producer Julie Snyder. (TVA)

The new fund will favour multi-platform content that has the potential to generate high ratings – all good news for Péladeau, who perfected the delivery and promotion of TV content online in 2003 with the record-breaking hit Star Academie, a made-in-Quebec combo of American Idol and Big Brother that recently ended its fourth season.

Francine Allaire, the head of drama production at Radio-Canada, fears that the Canada Media Fund will standardize Quebec TV and make it harder for upcoming writers to express themselves on the small screen: “I worry that many interesting shows will get rejected. I am afraid that the new fund will put the brakes on innovation.”

The new ratings criteria clearly play in Quebecor’s favour, given that TVA has a 30 per cent audience share, double that of its competitor, Radio-Canada. What’s more, the biggest TVA hits of this century have been produced by none other than Péladeau’s life partner, TV diva and producer Julie Snyder, perhaps the most astute arbiter of popular taste in Quebec. And her biggest hits have not been original drama or hard-hitting docs, but French-language versions of foreign reality and game shows such as the dating series Occupation Double and Le Banquier, the Quebec take on Deal or No Deal.

Moore has said that CMF will favour “predominantly Canadian talent,” but at this point, the discourse is vague enough to make TV industry types very nervous. Does “Canadian talent” mean writers, directors and performers making TV drama and point-of-view documentaries? Or could Moore’s definition be broadened to include popular variety shows such as Star Academie, which technically features up-and-coming Canadian talent, as well as tried-and-true Cancon performers such as Dion and Bryan Adams?

It’s possible that Cancon rules might change, says one veteran Quebec TV producer, who insisted on speaking off the record. “Broadcasters are already sliding towards adapting foreign formulas here,” he said. Many small, independent producers are worried that the CMF’s new ratings-based criteria will shut them out. “People are concerned there will be less incentive for broadcasters to show more artistic content.”

At this point, specific CMF guidelines haven't yet been worked out, so this is perhaps anxious speculation. Yet increasingly, it appears that both the government and the CRTC are abdicating their responsibility under the Broadcasting Act to ensure that Canadian TV is diverse and innovative. Or are they simply too confused and overwhelmed by the digital era to set a course for the future?

“We need big media companies to deal with the challenges of our age, but we also need rules,” said Sauvageau, who has been studying Canadian broadcasting policy for decades. “Right now, I feel that the state has lost control. The CRTC doesn’t seem to have a clear idea of its role. But Péladeau isn’t lost or confused. He has a vision.”

Patricia Bailey is a writer and broadcaster based in Montreal.