The Office (UK version)

To think that Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais's clever satire was nearly cut off at the knees. When The Office originally premiered on Britain's BBC 2, the Powers That Be came this close to cancelling the series, due to low ratings. Thankfully, this show about drones at a fictional paper company was allowed to thrive. Playing gormless boss David Brent, Gervais brilliantly evoked every medium-sized cheeseball who has ever subjected his staff to offensive jokes and ineffectual decision-making. The show set a new standard in the played-out realm of workplace comedy. With its mockumentary format, awkward deadpan humour and the absence of a laugh track, it was a refreshing change from the asinine one-liners and formulaic structure of most U.S. sitcoms.

Mad Men

The impeccable art direction and obsessive attention to era detail can sometimes make you feel like you're watching lovingly restored archival footage. But Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner and his writers apply the same elegance to storytelling and their crisp, complicated characters. This show about an early-'60s Manhattan ad agency contains more than a few alpha males, but some feminist critics have noted that Mad Men features some of the most fascinating female figures on TV today. And although it seems to glamourize the swingin' '60s, Mad Men also manages to include subtle but sharp critiques of the more problematic aspects of the period. Barely two years old, the show's already been parodied by both The Simpsons and Sesame Street, which speaks volumes about its effect on popular culture.

Lost

4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42: if those numbers mean nothing to you, you're one of the few who didn't get hooked on J.J. Abrams' sci-fi/thriller/adventure/action drama. On its surface, Lost looked like it might be Survivor: The Drama. But thanks to its cryptic and circuitous plotlines, complex mythology and constant surprises, the prime-time drama sucked masses of viewers into its nebulous fold. The narrative twists required fans to follow with near-religious fervour, which helped Lost become one of the first mainstream programs to take advantage of multi-platform distribution models (including iTunes and online streaming). The minds behind Lost were also savvy enough to recognize its cultish fan community, using the show as a jumping-off point for tie-in merchandise (novels, websites, video games and more), which in turn bolstered loyalty toward the series itself.

Survivor

The original gangsta of modern reality TV shows, Survivor paved the way for the deluge of unscripted entertainment — from Fear Factor to The Hills — that defined the decade. Part controlled experiment, part voyeuristic exercise, the program marooned average Joes and Janes in a tropical paradise, stripped them of all creature comforts and then allowed cameras to bear witness to their unraveling. The unexpected popularity enjoyed by the American version of Survivor when it launched in the spring of 2000 may have had something to do with the survivalist mindset that sprung up pre-Y2K. It didn't hurt that the first season (which took place in Borneo) featured oddballs like gruff septuagenarian ex-Marine Rudy Boesch and occasional nudist and eventual winner Richard Hatch, who mixed like oil and water.

The CSI franchise

Producer Jerry Bruckheimer has a gift for stylized sensationalism, so it's perhaps no surprise that he and Anthony Zuiker were able to put a slick spin on the unsexy world of forensic science. With its artfully chosen colour palettes, atmospheric soundtrack and lingering vignettes of maggots writhing in putrefying human flesh, the CSI franchise breathed new life into the stodgy procedural and became a ratings monster. The original series, which debuted in October of 2000, spawned two offshoots (CSI: New York and CSI: Miami), each with its own distinct personality. Beyond just reinvigorating prime-time dramas, the franchise had a pronounced impact on the culture as a whole, which some critics refer to as "the CSI effect." The glammed-up depiction of forensic investigation shifted public expectations and caused a marked increase in enrollment in forensic science.

Degrassi: The Next Generation

Yeah, it's soapy and frequently corny, but this teen angst-fest has become one of the most successful domestic television shows Canada has seen to date. Though the nouveau version adheres to the template established by its Degrassi predecessors — clunky performances and After School Special plotlines abound — it has received critical accolades and is the highest-rated show on the American Teen Nick network. Degrassi: TNG addresses meaty issues (like abortion, homosexuality and healthy adolescent sexuality) that many kid-oriented shows would sooner gloss over. Judging from the fervour with which fans have responded to the show — its fresh-faced stars are swarmed when they visit malls in the U.S. — Degrassi's non-pandering tone has struck a chord with teens. And of course, the series had a hand in launching Canada's most viable rap star, Drake (a.k.a. Aubrey Graham), who once played wheelchair-bound sweetheart Jimmy Brooks.

Sex and the City

From "He's just not that into you" to "modelizers," Sex and the City's catchphrases embedded themselves in the vernacular of the 2000s — a sure way to gauge its cultural impact. While this cable series about chatty single ladies launched in the late-'90s, network syndication turned the show into must-see TV for mainstream audiences. (The 2008 film adaptation was a box-office hit.) For better or for worse, SatC proved that viewers across demographics could connect with a program that dwelled on the romantic and sexual exploits of women whose teen years were well behind them. SatC's rise dovetailed with the proliferation of chick lit, and the outlandish outfits designer Patricia Field chose for Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) brought high fashion into the living rooms of tracksuit-sporting soccer moms.

The Daily Show

George W. Bush's reign was a surprising boon for Jon Stewart, whose evisceration of political culture transformed The Daily Show into a smash hit. When Stewart took the reins of this Comedy Central program in 1999, he began to shift its focus from chatty talk show to a socio-political commentary. But it was during the War on Terror that The Daily Show really hit its stride. Stewart and company seized the opportunity to position themselves as a source of no-B.S. reporting — even if that reporting came in the guise of winking satire. Politicos hoping to curry favour with disaffected 20- and 30-something voters jockeyed for an on-air interview with Stewart, well aware that his show was a vital tool in shaping public opinion.

The Wire

Another example of the superlative programming created by U.S. cable networks, The Wire drew on our fascination with verité programming to present a gritty, challenging urban series that felt excruciatingly real at times. Assisted by a talented cast of unknowns and character actors, creator David Simon led us into the drug-infested crevices and corruption-riddled institutions of present-day Baltimore. A sociopolitical essay disguised as a tight character-driven drama, The Wire gave us a privileged glimpse into highly complex, interconnected subcultures, from the drug trade to the school system, but neatly avoided sensationalism. Simon insists the overarching goal of the series was to examine the way citizens live together in American cities, but the broader theme was the ways in which individual needs are subsumed by the will of a powerful group. If the show had any moral, it was a dire one: "shit rolls downhill."

The Sopranos

Norman Mailer claimed it was the closest our culture came to producing The Great American Novel. Critics suggested it was a "meditation … on the legacy of Freud," "the greatest pop-culture masterpiece of its day" and the "most influential television drama ever." At its core, The Sopranos was a portrait of a middle-class American family in all its semi-dysfunctional glory — one that happened to be tied up in the machinations of the Mafia. It's fair to say that David Chase's drama changed how television tells stories; inspired by the use of dream-logic in the films of Fellini and others, Chase drew on psychological symbolism to help elucidate the moral quandaries his characters encountered. With Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini), Chase introduced the world to one of the greatest anti-heroes to ever appear onscreen, a lovable fella who had no qualms about disposing of traitors, yet relied on a shrink to help him sort out his deep-seated anxiety about his family (and his Family). Bad guys are rarely so huggable.

Sarah Liss writes about the arts for CBC News.