The Art of Living

Hollywood -  A Canary in the Economic Coal Mine

by Dana Raye Barnaby

They didn’t cancel our contracts. They just stopped calling.

What was once a thriving, rhythmic hum of film sets, gear trucks, wardrobe fittings, rewrites, and 5 a.m. call sheets has slowed to a cold silence. Across Hollywood and beyond, thousands of artists, craftsmen, editors, makeup artists, cinematographers, and story creators are sitting still, waiting, watching, wondering if the phone will ever ring again.

It hasn’t - and it’s time we started to accept that it may never return to what it was.  In fact, the latest rumor in Hollywood is that Ben Affleck is pitching a movie idea to a big studio - and it’s too good to turn down.

Why?

Because the movie will be made entirely with AI. Thanks Ben!

The slowdown in Hollywood isn't just a scheduling pause or a content break. It's a tectonic shift. A silent restructuring. It is what happens when an industry reaches its limit, is asked to evolve, and instead of growing - it simply retreats.

When the writers, directors, and actors went on strike in 2023, our message was clear: we want a fairer slice of the pie. Better wages, protections from AI, residuals in a streaming-first economy. The studios, reluctantly, agreed in principle. But in practice, they simply flipped the off switch.

Production has been cut by as much as 50%. Development deals dried up and entire departments dissolved. The union may have won on paper, but the system responded with quiet vengeance.

So, is anyone winning?

The big platforms aren't investing in new stories. They're recycling old ones. IPs, sequels, spin-offs - what ever they deem a safe bet. They claim they're losing money, yet the C-suite salaries and shareholder returns seem just fine. The studios have effectively turned storytelling into stock performance. And art into a liability.

If you’ve been watching the Apple TV series The Studio, written, co-directed, and starring Seth Rogen, you might see it as a humorous satire about a bumbling studio exec trying to greenlight absurd projects - like a Kool-Aid-inspired movie franchise, riding Barbie’s coattails. But for industry professionals like me, it hits uncomfortably close to home. It actually pains me to watch Seth’s character - someone entrusted with shaping a studio’s creative portfolio - get giddy over a revolting zombie trailer where the virus is spread via “projectile diarrhea”. It’s absurd, yes. But perhaps it’s more real than we’d like to admit.

Meanwhile, the workers - the ones who built the system - are left in the dust. Decades of loyal service, long hours, union dues, creative energy, and physical exhaustion now met with silence. For many of us - myself included - this wasn’t just a job. It was our identity, our community, our reason to get up in the morning.

And now, it’s gone.

And here's the larger truth: Hollywood is just the beginning.

This is a test run. A canary in the economic coal mine. A glimpse into what happens when labor across industries demands better - and capital responds by downsizing, automating, or retreating. You can already see the same patterns in tech, education, media, retail, and soon, even healthcare.

Hollywood is the mirror, and behind it, you can see the cracks in the empire itself.

Because this isn’t just the story of a broken entertainment industry - it’s the story of a collapsing civilization. Like Rome before it, the American empire is showing signs of fatigue: extreme inequality, civic disengagement, debt-ridden citizens, overextended influence, and an elite class more interested in preservation than innovation.

The fall of great empires has never come overnight. In ancient Rome, the middle class vanished under crushing tax burdens while the aristocracy hoarded land and power. In the British Empire, colonies bled resources to fuel an unsustainable economic hierarchy. In Spain, inflation and corruption hollowed the state from within. In every case, the pattern was clear: when the people who built the empire were discarded, the structure eventually collapsed.

According to The Cycle of Empire - often referred to as Glubb Pasha’s Theory - empires typically go through 6 stages over ~250 years - with stage 5 being Intellectualism / Decadence and stage 6 ending with Decline / Collapse.

Most scholars believe the U.S. and Western world are now in stages 5 and 6. Affluence has led to entitlement. Intellectualism is no longer about wisdom, but opinion. Values are fractured. Trust is decaying. And the middle class - the stabilizing core - is vanishing.

When empires collapse, what happens to the middle class?

Today’s version? Freelancers left on read. Renters priced out of their homes. Students buried in debt for an education that no longer guarantees a future. Gig workers hustling across apps just to make ends meet. And yes, artists - once courted by studios, are now ghosted by the very industry they helped define.

America is experiencing the slow-motion collapse of its middle class. Housing has become a luxury. Education is priced for the elite. Debt is the national religion. And now, even our creative class - our dreamers, our storytellers - are being squeezed out of their own industry.

We were told that if we worked hard, invested in our skills, built our reel, and paid our dues, there would be a place for us. But the house is burning - literally and figuratively - sorry LA. And the people who lit the match are upstairs, cashing out.

Is there still hope?

Perhaps it's time for a new system. A new way to live and work. One where art isn't held hostage by market analytics. Where people matter more than platform metrics. Where craft can be respected again. Where The Art of Living isn’t just about surviving, but creating with purpose.

Hollywood isn’t just slowing down. It's telling us something.

And maybe the rest of the world should listen.

Thank you for taking the time to join me on this journey of reflection and storytelling. If these words have resonated, you might enjoy my second series of essays called, The Vanishing Gentleman.

Subscribe today to continue our conversation (that's all - nothing more). Together, we can explore the timeless art of living thoughtfully and graciously. Your support means the world to me.

Home