Ryan Chandler finally began his persuasion: “Murphy Miss plans to become a producer, right? Especially since you don’t have much experience, becoming a producer will mean facing a lot of competition, won’t it?”

“Yes.” If there’s a good opportunity, she wants to give it a try, and naturally, others want to try as well. Anyone could guess with little thought that many people would join the competition.

“So it’s very difficult to get a prime time slot, isn’t it?”

Ian Murphy silently nodded as she read, acknowledging the truth—TV stations also divide their programming by time slots. For example, morning dramas aimed at housewives are usually aired between 7 and 9 a.m., when housewives have just sent their husbands and children out and have some free time;

Cartoons for children are generally broadcast from 4 to 6 p.m., when kids have just come home from school, while evening dramas and popular variety shows are usually scheduled from 8 to 10 p.m., when most adults are off work and it’s time to relax.

These time slots generally have higher ratings, and the quality of the programs affects the station’s reputation, so it’s unlikely they’d let a newcomer use them for practice.

Seeing Ian Murphy nod in agreement, Ryan Chandler spoke even more sincerely, “That’s why I think this project is suitable for Murphy Miss, and it can help you as well—right now, the late-night slot isn’t valued. If you apply for that slot, the programming committee probably won’t care much and will most likely let you give it a try, right?”

Ian Murphy had already finished reading and found the project proposal exciting. The two additional short stories provided by Ryan Chandler were also interesting. If they could be filmed well, they should be quite appealing, and what he said made a lot of sense.

She was silent for a moment, closed the script but didn’t return it to Ryan Chandler, hesitating as she pressed it under her hand: “But the late-night time slot’s audience…”

The definition of late-night varies by station, but it generally refers to the time between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m., when most normal people are asleep and few are watching TV. In the 1990s, staying up late wasn’t popular.

TV stations really don’t value this time slot now; they usually fill it with low-budget horror movies or just infomercials. Sometimes the ratings are as low as 0.04%, which is hardly worth mentioning—there was no internet to compete for attention in those days, and for prime time dramas, the passing line for ratings was 15%, while national hit dramas could reach around 40%. The gap is just too big.

So, it’s easy to apply for, but once you get it, what’s the point if there’s no audience? It’s a quagmire—easy to get in, hard to get out.

At a TV station, ratings are the only thing that gives a producer a voice, but they’re also the sword of Damocles hanging over a producer’s head. She was afraid that if she failed her first time as a producer and didn’t get good results, the higher-ups would lose confidence in her and never give her another chance, and she’d be stuck as a lifelong gofer.

Ryan Chandler understood her concerns and said seriously, “I understand what you mean, Murphy Miss, but the times are changing—have you ever heard of the lipstick effect?”

Ian Murphy slowly shook her head. She hadn’t experienced the internet age and wasn’t influenced by the information explosion, so she didn’t know much about obscure knowledge.

“The lipstick effect refers to an interesting economic phenomenon where lipstick sales boom during economic downturns. It’s also called the low-priced luxury preference phenomenon. In the U.S., whenever the economy is bad, lipstick sales actually surge, because people see lipstick as a low-cost luxury. When the economy is bad, people have less money to spend, but their desire to consume doesn’t disappear, so they buy these cheap luxuries to satisfy their psychological needs and comfort themselves.”

Ian Murphy listened intently. Before the information explosion, to gain relatively specialized knowledge, you either had to find a teacher or go to the library or bookstore. Satisfying your curiosity was difficult, so she wouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip by.

Ryan Chandler continued, “Now Japan has also entered a period of great depression. People’s incomes and expectations for the future have dropped sharply. At times like this, the first thing to be cut is non-essential spending, and entertainment is the first to go. But people still need entertainment. If they can’t travel abroad or go to bars and nightclubs often, what’s the cheapest form of entertainment for them?”

Ian Murphy thought for a moment: “Watching TV at home?”

“That’s right. The Great Depression will make the TV industry even more prosperous. The longer it lasts, the longer the lipstick effect will last, and the more viewers will stay in front of their TVs. Murphy Miss, you work at a TV station, so you must have noticed this, right? I bet the average ratings across all time slots have been rising year after year, am I wrong?”

Ian Murphy was a bit impressed. This was indeed true, but no one had explained it as freshly as Ryan Chandler. She nodded slightly, “Yes, but only a few important prime time slots have seen significant growth. Late-night dramas are still…”

“That’s because there’s nothing worth watching in late-night dramas right now, so they can’t keep viewers. As long as we can make a good show, we can create a miracle!” Ryan Chandler’s words were powerful and convincing, full of temptation: “This is a great opportunity, Murphy Miss. I have confidence in the project and the script!”