At the 2026 iQIYI World Conference, CEO Gong Yu delivered a provocative prophecy that would either signal the future of entertainment or the industry’s greatest existential threat. Gong suggested that within years, 100% human-made physical productions might become "intangible cultural heritage," mere relics of a pre-automated age. This rhetoric, intended to position the Chinese streaming giant as an AI pioneer, instead ignited a firestorm of controversy that has yet to subside.
Central to the backlash is "NaDou Pro," a digital asset library intended to house the likenesses and performance data of over 100 celebrities. Gong’s vision is a world where a top-tier actor’s workload could double while their physical time on set drops from months to weeks, thanks to a "digital twin" handling the labor. However, the plan hit a wall of reality when a wave of A-list stars, including Zhang Ruoyun and Yu Hewei, issued swift denials of ever signing such digital rights agreements, exposing a massive trust gap between the platform and its talent.
This aggressive push toward automation is not merely a technological whim but a financial necessity. iQIYI, once a high-flyer on the Nasdaq with a peak price of $46, has seen its valuation collapse by over 97% since 2018. With revenues declining for two consecutive years and the company seeking a secondary listing in Hong Kong to raise much-needed capital, Gong is desperate for a "new story" to sell to investors. The proposed "Media 112 Law"—aiming to cut costs tenfold while boosting output a hundredfold—is the centerpiece of this survival narrative.
Yet, the platform's quest for efficiency risks destroying the very soul of its product. While low-cost AI-generated short dramas have exploded in popularity among China’s mobile users, iQIYI’s core identity is built on premium, emotionally resonant long-form series like "The Knockout." Critics argue that by reducing actors to cold digital assets, the platform is ignoring the unquantifiable human empathy that creates a cultural phenomenon, potentially leaving audiences unwilling to pay premium subscription fees for algorithmic mimicry.
As the industry watches this "stress test" unfold, the rift between digital efficiency and artistic integrity has never been wider. iQIYI’s experience serves as a cautionary tale for the global streaming industry: technology can solve the problem of cost, but it cannot easily replace the human connection. If the platform continues to prioritize the "copying" of faces over the cultivation of creativity, it may find itself a leader in a marketplace that has lost its audience.