Because it’s about time we stopped worshiping a metric invented in the ’90s and run by a committee of experts who still can’t figure out Netflix.

If there’s one thing that unites Israelis — other than traffic jams and Yonet’s column — it’s ratings.
For decades, we’ve lived under the shadow of the sacred numbers: 17%, 23%, 7.5% — as if they were divine prophecies, not the output of a little black box attached to a TV in Kiryat Ono.

The End of the Sacred Numbers 📊

Before we dive into the new law, let’s recall how we got here.
Back in the 1990s, when Channel 2 was the shiny new thing and cell phones came with antennas, someone invented “ratings.”
The goal was innocent enough: to measure who watches what, so advertisers would know where to throw their money.

But, as with all things innocent in Israel, it quickly became a weapon.
Editors stopped thinking about the public — they thought about the sample.
Anchors stopped chasing truth — they chased prime time.
And every morning show became a social experiment in mass dumbing-down wrapped in a colorful logo.

Anyone who scored 24% got a national hug; anyone who dropped to 5% vanished faster than an Education Ministry pilot project.

How a Tiny Country With More Pundits Than Viewers Finally Dethroned the God of Points

For years, we all lived under a reign of terror.
Not Hamas, not bureaucracy, not even Dana Weiss — but one almighty deity: The Rating.
That holy number, whispered reverently in studio corridors, printed in tiny font at the corner of the screen, as if it were the fate of the nation itself.

Nobody really understood how it was calculated — but everyone knew to fear it.
It decided careers, fired anchors, promoted reporters, and turned Israeli television into a national statistics fetish with the flavor of newsroom machine coffee.

And now — finally — the Knesset said:
Enough. We’re done. The Ratings Committee is abolished, the Rating Law is passed, and the TV market can finally breathe.

The new Rating Law puts an end to an era where a handful of media insiders decided what “the people want” — while the people themselves were already on YouTube, Netflix, or watching Noa Kirel reels on Instagram.

Who Invented Ratings — and Why Do We Still Treat Them Like Professor Yoram Lass?

Let’s rewind.
Once upon a time in the ’90s — when channels still had numbers and the news began with “Good evening to you all” — someone invented ratings.
The idea made sense: figure out who’s watching what.

But soon enough, it became a moral-national index — the Ten Commandments of Channel 12.
Anchors turned into amateur statisticians, editors lived in existential fear of a 600-household sample, and every segment had to include the words “Breaking Exclusive.”
Because what’s the point of truth if it isn’t measured?

The Ratings Committee: Where Bureaucracy Meets Megalomania

The committee that ran the system looked like a homeowners’ association from Tel Aviv — only with more Excel spreadsheets and less logic.
A group of executives, advertisers, and consultants sitting around a big table, sipping black coffee and debating deep philosophical questions:
– Is 0.3% a failure or just a disappointment?
– Does a TikTok replay count as a rating point?
– And is Eliraz Sadeh still a viable investment?

Every week, they gathered to ask the existential question:
“How many people watched Ninja Israel?”

For twenty years, they “refined the methodology” while the public had already moved on — watching everything on tablets in the bathtub.
But, as in all things Israeli, nothing is ever shut down — only “restructured.”

Over time, the Committee became half-mystical, half-bureaucratic, clinging to the illusion that the system was scientific.
In truth, they knew it was outdated, the sample was tiny, and the viewers — long gone to Netflix, YouTube, or Rami Vered’s TikTok.

And like every ancient Israeli institution, instead of closing down, they just kept “updating the model.”
For two decades, they measured viewers who had probably died — or simply forgot the device was still plugged in.

And Then Came the Law: Finally, Someone Hit “Power Off”

The Ministry of Communications decided to end the charade.
The new Rating Law dismantles the committee and moves measurement into the real world: digital platforms, streaming, replays, actual watch time — not nap time during MasterChef.

Instead of relying on a few hundred families wired to a mysterious box, the new system measures real people.
Yes, even you — watching Channel 12 on your phone while showering.

The idea is simple: stop worshiping a single metric and start collecting real data — digital viewing, clicks, total engagement — all transparent and public.

In other words:
Revolution. Transparency. And pure panic across the broadcast networks.

Why the Left-Leaning Media Isn’t a Fan

(Hint: less control, more reality)

In simple terms, the law breaks another monopoly of the old elites.
Without one committee to decide what “counts” as being watched — how can you still engineer public consciousness?
How will the state broadcaster know if the public truly wants another feminist docuseries, or if everyone’s just bored?

From a right-wing perspective, this isn’t just media reform — it’s a small cultural revolution.
A free market of content, without bureaucrats, without committees, without middlemen.
Every creator gets a fair shot — the audience itself decides.
No filters. No panels. No pixel-coated lies.

Methodological Freedom

From the right’s point of view, the Rating Law is a clear victory of the free market over measurement monopolies.
The Committee symbolized the rule of the old elites — a small circle deciding what “counts” as popular, just as the Supreme Court decides what “counts” as legal.
That’s not measurement — that’s centralization.

The right has always believed the market measures better than any committee.
After all, the people vote every day — with their remotes, with their likes, with their natural viewing choices.
So why trust bureaucrats with clipboards over the wisdom of the crowd?

Who’s Afraid of the Rating Law?

Here’s the secret: everyone.

Commercial networks fear the truth — that the audience has moved on.
Public broadcasters fear the budget cuts — because without shiny numbers, it’s hard to justify another hundred million shekels.
And the celebrities? That’s a full-blown Greek tragedy.
How will they know if they’re “doing numbers”? How can you brag without a graph?

Canceling the Ratings Committee is like disconnecting the heart monitor from a patient who’s lived off the beeps for years.

Let’s Be Honest — Nobody’s Really Giving Up Ratings

Let’s face it: even when ratings die, they live on.
We just changed the metrics.
Now it’s “How many YouTube views?”, “How many Twitter likes?”, “How many Instagram shares?”.
Same addiction, better filters.

Instead of sacrificing cows on the altar of ratings, we now sacrifice algorithms.
But at least this time, it’s more democratic — because we’re all part of the measurement, not just the committee.

What Happens Next?

Israeli television will have to face a shocking revelation: the audience isn’t captive.
You can’t keep feeding people shallow, politically slanted content and expect them to stay tuned.
The Israeli viewer may be busy — but he’s not stupid.

When everything becomes open and transparent, those who sold themselves as “the voice of the people” might realize the people have long since switched channels.

Blessed Be, Freed From the Tyranny of the People Meter

The Rating Law is much more than a media reform — it’s a mirror to Israeli culture.
It shows how deeply we were addicted to metrics, headlines, and the illusion of success.
Now, with everything out in the open, we’ll find out who’s truly interesting — and who was just good at being measured.

And, as always in Israel, even without a Ratings Committee, someone will still proudly announce:
“We’re number one in the ratings!”

And the public?
They’ll just smile, hit “Skip Ad,” and keep watching something that’s actually worth their time.