CEO: Estonian public broadcaster's funding shortage has reached a critical level

Chairman of the management board of Estonian Public Broadcasting (ERR) Erik Roose speaks candidly about the organization's severe financial strain and what it means for ERR and Estonian culture more broadly. Roose notes that ERR's services cost each Estonian just eight cents per day, yet the organization's inflation-adjusted budget has shrunk by one-third over the past 18 years.
- ERR's funding is inadequate and unpredictable, leaving the organization unable to plan or invest in long-term, high-quality content.
- In real terms, ERR operates today with about one-third less purchasing power than in 2008, despite increased responsibilities and public expectations.
- The lack of stable, indexed funding exposes ERR to the risk of political influence through financial pressure.
- No new drama series expected this year and significant limits on ERR's ability to produce content of archival and national cultural value.
Let's talk about the funding of public broadcasting, which is likely to be the main theme of this interview. The immediate impetus was a recent sitting of the Riigikogu Cultural Affairs Committee, which you attended earlier this week along with [ERR supervisory board chair] Sulev Valner. News reports following the meeting indicated that the committee has developed a new approach to the funding model for public broadcasting. If I understand correctly, it involves a three-year framework that also applies to other public cultural institutions — essentially, administrative contracts would be signed for a three-year period, locking in the amount of funding. On the one hand, this seems like progress, especially compared to the current system where ERR only finds out its budget for the coming year in the final months, often the final weeks of the current year. Compared to that, this sounds like a step forward?
Well, we're probably better off starting with what it still isn't. But yes, this was a regularly scheduled annual meeting with the Cultural Affairs Committee, during which the Broadcasting Council is expected to provide an overview of recent developments.
But indeed, the proposed legislative amendment was briefly discussed — it has just moved from the Ministry of Culture to the government for review. It does include some minor changes, with one of the main ones being that funding should become more consistent and more predictable. However, it's still too early to say what will actually come of it.
The European Media Freedom Act, which has been in effect across the EU since last year, requires that all public broadcasters receive funding that is both adequate and predetermined. We might be making some progress on the predictability front, but when it comes to adequacy, we still don't have any real clarity.
As I understand it, even if this new funding model goes forward — not just for ERR but also for the National Library and the National Opera — it could still end up looking like this: let's say, starting in 2026, the government says your budget won't be cut over the next three years, but it also won't increase. Given how small ERR's budget is compared to the tasks it's expected to carry out and considering the inflation we've seen in recent years, wouldn't that actually mean that while ERR would know how much money it has each year, it would effectively have less and less money to work with?
That's exactly the main concern with the current legislative proposal. If a politician thinks, "Well, we've solved the predictability issue," but then the funding is either frozen or shrinking in real terms, that would be a major problem.
Looking at funding more broadly: after Estonia regained independence, public radio and television — then still separate — received 0.4 percent of GDP from taxpayers. That level of funding carried over from the Estonian SSR. So, the politicians of that time — if we can call them that, or at least members of one party — understood that media is important and needs to be strong. Today, we're down to just 0.1 percent of GDP. In other words, public broadcasting now costs taxpayers four times less.
If GDP sounds too abstract, we also showed a more concrete example to the committee, using a graph. We used 2008 as a baseline — the year ERR was formed under the current law, merging radio and television. Back then, our base budget was around €23 million (it was in kroons at the time, but that's the euro equivalent). Today, when you adjust that figure for inflation, we're effectively operating with €17 million. In real purchasing power, that's a third less than we had 20 years ago, while the expectations placed on us haven't gone down at all.
Let's go over that again. If we take ERR's 2008 budget as the baseline — since that was the first year Estonian Radio and Estonian Television operated as a single entity — and adjust it for inflation, then the original budget was €27 million?
Twenty-three.
Sorry — €23 million, and after accounting for inflation, that's effectively €17 million?
Exactly. So yes, we effectively have one-third less money to spend. Imagine a pensioner who might have the same bill in their wallet, but it buys a third less than before — it's the same thing.
But the number of responsibilities has actually increased over that time and ERR's operations, like the media sector as a whole, have naturally expanded as part of its organic development, right?
Yes, there are two elements that have been excluded from that calculation — for example, the funding specifically allocated to ETV+ (the Russian-language TV channel – ed.) and cybersecurity funding — so we're comparing the core service alone. There would be a bit more money if you included those, but everything that's been added comes with a tag, so to speak: that funding is tied to specific, additional tasks.
It's true that, when making comparisons, people often point out that public broadcasting budgets are declining across Europe. And that's correct, but the average decline elsewhere has been around 10 percent, whereas ours has dropped by 30 percent over a comparable period. So, in real terms, our capacity to provide this service has decreased three times faster than that of our counterparts across the European Union and the wider European Broadcasting Union, which includes 47 countries.
But let me take a step back. You quoted the European Union's Media Freedom Act, which states that public broadcasting funding must be adequate and predictable or in some way planned. That's a fairly bureaucratic, formal phrasing, but what it really means is that public broadcasters should be independent of both short-term and long-term political decisions due to the fact that their funding doesn't depend on those short-term political decisions.
Exactly.
That's the part that, in reality, very few people — whether inside ERR or elsewhere — want to talk about because we know ourselves that our content isn't politically influenced. But if we leave aside how things are and just look at the facts on paper, then it's clear that each year, the following year's budget is decided through a purely political decision-making process.
Yes, that's exactly how it is. That's also one of the points we've been raising, together with the National Opera and the National Library — ERR being the third. These three organizations were established by the Riigikogu to serve the public. But today, in practice, they're just three among a hundred or even 150 line items in the Ministry of Culture's section of the national budget explanatory memorandum, which, from what I understand, hardly anyone reads apart from Aivar Sõerd and Anvar Samost.
Our idea was to designate these three constitutional institutions as a separate priority line. That might also help address the broader issue: that we're constantly getting poorer in real terms.

But that independence, specifically journalistic independence, is absolutely essential. When we talk about these three public institutions that have their own laws, I honestly can't imagine, even in a dystopian fantasy, something like the finance minister or a member of parliament going to the director of the National Opera and saying, "I'd like to see more Italian opera next year." But it's quite easy to imagine that same finance minister — or, say, the head of some political party — approaching Erik Roose and saying, "Your news coverage isn't quite friendly enough toward us." And that's exactly the kind of situation this funding independence is supposed to prevent, right?
That's what it's supposed to ensure, yes. That was a good example and I'd offer something of a counterpoint. It's true that politicians — even those who sit on the supervisory boards — probably don't go to the National Opera and say, "Do more opera and less operetta." I think that would be laughable and our culture portal would likely report on it if they did.
Though you never know...
Well, I'm pretty sure I'd have heard about it from Ott Maaten (director general of the National Opera). Or if someone told the National Library not to purchase a certain type of literature or to order something else instead. But in our case, we hear things like: "There's too little of this" or "Too much of that," "Not enough politics" or "Too much [foreign affairs talk show] "Välisilm." Comments like that come at us every day from all directions and somehow it's treated as normal.
So yes, I'd say our problem isn't just about funding — it's also about a fundamental lack of understanding of what an independent media organization really is. There's still a lot of work to be done on that front.
Speaking of the history of funding, we've talked about how the budget has changed over time. But this has actually been studied, right? At least once, the National Audit Office looked into it. I think around ten years ago...
Something like that, yes.
...they produced an analysis of ERR's funding. And our funding is public — there's been a lot written and said about it. It's basically broken down into, I think, three lines in the state budget — that's how it's been in recent years at least. Then there's a set of publicly funded, earmarked project grants. From an editorial or journalistic standpoint, this is always a bit of a sensitive topic because no matter what clauses or conditions are included in a given contract or project, audiences can still come away with the impression that whoever paid for it also influenced the program or project's editorial content. And that's something that really shouldn't be the case. Ideally, ERR would receive funding through a long-term model and then — according to the ERR Act and its mandate — decide itself what kinds of lawful and audience-serving programming to produce with it?
That's exactly how it works in most European countries, at least among EBU members. It's true that, in addition to those three budget lines, we'll soon have a fourth one covering our new television complex. But that's a separate matter — something real and concrete that doesn't quite fall under the same issue we're discussing here.
But yes, in order to operate normally and in line with how most of our European colleagues function, it really should work that way. Maybe to make this even more concrete — how much does it actually cost? Across broader Europe, the average public broadcasting service costs taxpayers around €50 per person annually.
In Estonia, that number is €30 per year per capita. So if you break it down by day, it comes to eight cents a day or €2.50 per month. €2.50 a month is what each Estonian pays and that's less than any newspaper subscription, any video streaming service or just about anything else — while the amount of actual content and service is greater.
So I'd say that the often-repeated claim, sometimes fairly, that the private sector is more efficient than the public sector doesn't really apply here. We are, in fact, efficient, high-quality and the most cost-effective to maintain for the taxpayer.
Looking at the same example you mentioned earlier — ERR's budget adjusted to constant prices — are we essentially doing the same things in 2024 with €17 million that we did in 2008 with €23 million?
In terms of purchasing power, yes.
In terms of purchasing power, that's an incredible example of efficiency!
That's exactly what it is. If you ask how it's even possible that the numbers still add up, the answer is: through increased efficiency on the one hand and through cuts. We now have significantly fewer employees — fewer journalists, support staff and others — than we did five, ten or fifteen years ago. Much fewer. But there's a limit. At some point... someone has to be in the studio! That's the first point.
The second is that we've tried — although it's tough — to benefit from technological progress. Each new generation of equipment is more efficient and cost-effective. But we've now reached a point where, after the most recent cuts — €2 million last year, which carried over into this year's unchanged budget — we've simply lost the capacity to carry out any major broadcasts.
Yes, we were given a small increase for the salary fund and maybe it's worth clarifying that as well. When the minimum salary for cultural workers — the largest group within our staff — increases by €120 a month once every three years, then I think everyone understands why neither I nor my colleagues can be expected to show overwhelming gratitude toward politicians.
The reality is that, as an organization, we've made tremendous efforts. But now, after the cuts, we can no longer afford to produce major live broadcasts. The Olympics are just around the corner — we've scraped together the necessary funds from what was left after the cuts. We have no separate funding for it. But in the future, major events like the Olympics will simply be out of reach with the current level of funding. We won't be able to cover them. Or, if we do want to cover them every two or four years, we'll have to shut down major programs in the meantime and start saving up.
So if you ask politicians whether Estonians should be able to watch the Olympics or see them covered in the media, the answer is yes. But if you ask for the money — we're really talking about just a few more cents per day.
If, instead of the current eight cents, we could get twelve cents a day per person through political will or some kind of funding model — those are real numbers — we'd be completely satisfied. Even with ten cents a day, we could restore what we once had.
So the amounts we're talking about — compared to, say, the €2 billion that seems to float around every year in headlines as "unspent" or "missing" from the state budget — are, frankly, laughably small.
When we look at other European public broadcasters — those that genuinely fulfill a public service role and aren't, as some of our politicians still like to call ERR, "state television," but are instead truly independent media organizations — Estonia stands out as an exception. If I look around at how many public media organizations have had their funding structurally separated from political influence, whether through a dedicated tax or tied to the state budget via some index based on economic indicators or even something like a component in the electricity tax, like in Portugal and a few other countries — we really are the outlier. And maybe it's worth saying this clearly: Estonia is not typical when it comes to funding its public broadcaster. We often pride ourselves on being progressive and ahead of the curve, doing things "better" than some of our southern neighbors, for example, but in this area, we're simply not.
That's absolutely right. Among the nearly 50 EBU member countries, only a tiny handful are in the same situation as us — waiting until the final days of the year to find out their budget. In our case, we may find out in October or November, but the state budget is officially passed in December.
There are many different models out there. For instance, in Spain, a significant share of funding comes from a small percentage of telecommunications companies' profits or turnover. In Portugal, Italy and I believe even Armenia, part of the funding is built into electricity bills.
So the models vary, but the common denominator is this: regardless of political system — whether we're talking about Hungary, the UK or Finland — every country has agreed that a public broadcasting service is necessary. The exact financial mechanism is somewhat technical. But in terms of public finance policy, Estonia isn't at the forefront — we're actually near the other end of the spectrum.
At its core, over the past 30–35 years, neither our society nor, more importantly, our politicians have gotten to the point of saying: let's choose any model, lock it in and make it long-term and independent. There's still this attitude of "Try to get by. We don't really have the money, but hang in there." That used to be a kind of meme in old Russian political culture. But it's not funny to me anymore because this is our reality now. And the situation is genuinely critical.
We do want to keep covering the Song Festivals, the Olympics — all of it.

And we also want the evening news — every night. And to be able to read reliable, high-quality news on our phones. And to have something to listen to on Vikerraadio when there's no other device at hand.
Exactly. And there's one more point I'd highlight briefly. This attitude of "we gave you ten euros and got three minutes of programming in return" has led to a situation where politicians and auditors no longer really see the indirect costs involved. A television, radio and news organization today is essentially an IT company. You need cybersecurity systems, you need technological infrastructure and capability and I have to be blunt here: we are partly funding our Olympic coverage by drawing from our capital depreciation reserves.
That means our ability to reliably be on air every night at 9 p.m. with "Aktuaalne kaamera" [evening news] is no longer as secure as it was even just two or three years ago. Sooner or later — hopefully later and after this current management team — but the day will come when our broadcast goes dark. Simply because the technical foundation to keep us on the air is no longer guaranteed.
So what would be the most appropriate model for Estonia? From what I understand, the amendments to the Public Broadcasting Act have now, as of this week, officially moved from the Ministry of Culture to the government and they seem to align with what was discussed in the Cultural Affairs Committee?
Yes, they're the same ones.
But if we step back and ask objectively, independently of the current legislation, what would be the ideal funding model for Estonia?
Personally, I really like the Lithuanian model. It's somewhat similar to systems used in France and Norway as well. In those countries, it's been agreed that a small percentage of a specific tax — like in Lithuania, where it's a tiny portion of personal income tax and excise duties — is allocated for public broadcasting. That percentage is used to calculate the funding and the Ministry of Finance transfers the money automatically. There's no political debate over it.
Lithuania is, in that sense, a very good model. Though politically, [the situation there today] is...
They're now looking to reverse that model?
Not just that — they're also trying to amend the law to make it easier to remove the management at any time, along with other changes. The lesson there is that even a good funding model doesn't protect against aggressive or malicious political pressure on its own.
But when both pillars — governance and funding — are under threat, as is the case in Estonia, it becomes especially difficult. On the other hand, our own supervisory board and the Riigikogu Cultural Affairs Committee actually have a generally positive attitude. But we all know that the money isn't in their hands — it's somewhere else, as we're all well aware.
If I may make a slightly grim joke: our board's role is clearly defined in the law — they're supposed to oversee our budget and how it's being implemented. But I'd say that in recent years, their job has gotten a lot easier — there's not much to monitor because there's not much money. So the oversight goes quickly. In that sense, they're doing their job very well and very efficiently.
In practice, though, the purse strings are held by the executive branch — arguably too tightly across the whole governance system. In our case, it's the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Finance together who could make this decision, not just formally in terms of legislation, but also substantively, year by year.
But then the Ministry of Finance comes along and says that any model involving indexation is a no-go — they don't want it, they won't accept any new indexed funding mechanisms in the state budget because then everyone will want the same thing. It's politically unacceptable and that's where the conversation dies.
I've heard that line so many times I've run out of fingers and toes to count. I won't get too deep into that debate — it's essentially an excuse.
But an even worse excuse, in my view, is the one we've heard year after year, across leadership changes — whether it was this board or the previous one under Margus Allikmaa. No matter the year, the message is always the same: "There's no money and there won't be." The reasons vary — war, political tension, Donald Trump, Viktor Orbán, Andrus Ansip, EKRE — any excuse will do, but somehow there's never money.
So at some point, this narrative just becomes unconvincing. Maybe we should start asking: under what conditions would money actually become available?
Just last night, the director of the Rescue Board was on "Esimene stuudio" [political talk show] and we've heard from experts in medicine and other fields as well — I haven't heard anyone say there's enough funding in their sector. The state budget grows by hundreds of millions every year — it's around €20 billion — and somehow €2 billion always seems to "go missing" and no one knows where it is.
Yes, more money comes in, but I've yet to see any major sector stand up and say, "We're fully funded."
It's the same in healthcare. And if we go back to the technology angle for a moment: we're told to "just make it work" with the camera equipment we have. But if we applied that logic to radiology, would you feel safe going in for a scan using a machine that might not even work? Maybe that comparison sounds harsh, but this "there's no money" refrain has become a kind of standard phrase. There's not even a follow-up — no explanation of why or when it might change. Just: "There isn't any and there won't be." And it's the same in healthcare, in education, internal security — even in defense. That's not my area, but I haven't heard the Defense Forces claim they're flush with cash either.

Well, defense spending is really the only major portion of the state budget that's been indexed to a percentage of GDP for years now.
If only that were truly the case. But no one has been able to provide a clear breakdown showing that all the money taken from elsewhere or simply never allocated has actually gone into rockets. Because if that were true, I think we could have wrapped this whole situation up alongside Ukraine by now. But clearly, that's not the case either.
It's a good question: where is the money from the continuously growing state budget going each year? How are the funds being distributed? And I know this comment will start to veer quite broad, but in my view, part of the problem lies in the state budget model itself. It's a favorite topic among our newsroom and other journalists, but the truth is, we're dependent on a single number. And if we actually don't know where our money is in the budget — as the Ministry of Finance itself admitted last year, saying they didn't yet know and that it would become clear later — then how can we talk about allocating funds at all?
If we don't even know how much money we have or where it's located, everything starts from there. And so, the default answer is always the same: there is no money.
When we hear this constant refrain that "there's no money" — something we've all heard — one could, more cynically, get the impression that the reason there's no money is because ERR has been uncomfortably critical of various governments. Could that be the real reason?
Well, I don't know — has the healthcare sector been critical? Has the head of the Rescue Board been overly critical when they don't get funding? I think what we're seeing is a broader picture, which I've already described.
Yes, if you were being deliberately cynical, you could claim that. Especially when you consider that, if I'm not mistaken, Hungary's public broadcaster has a budget of something like €400 million — about ten times more than ours. And I suspect they're fairly friendly toward [Hungarian Prime Minister] Viktor Orbán.
So maybe when elections come around in April, we'll have a chance to test how things really work — whether there's any truth to that line of thinking.
None of us actually wants that kind of arrangement...
No, we really don't. And personally, I want to believe that it's not actually like that.
Again — it's an absurd example, of course — but imagine if we or any other media outlet suddenly decided to deliberately shift into PR mode and start giving someone especially favorable coverage. Say, the Ministry of Finance or the party of whichever minister happens to be in charge — those have been different parties over the years. Say we take a friendly tone and suddenly the money will start flowing.
Let's put it this way — I have zero faith in that happening. None.
Thank goodness for that. To wrap up, I want to revisit something that's been said here — some pretty dramatic claims, really — like the idea that in a few years, the screen might literally go dark in the evenings. But taking a calmer perspective: beyond the Olympics and other major events, in order for ERR to truly fulfill its public service mandate, it also has to produce entertainment. We should be creating original Estonian-language drama, music programs, cultural shows with long-term archival value and all kinds of content that actually forms national culture. But if I look honestly at last year, the year before and even the year just starting — we're clearly not able to do that anymore. How many drama series are we airing this year?
Probably none. That's exactly the right question and the situation we're in.
It's all very abstract talk until you get down to this core truth: you simply cannot solve this without a sufficient base budget. We keep trying, piecing together extra funding here and there, but the reality is that our capacity as an organization to produce culturally significant content with long-term value, to create fresh, high-quality programming that people will still be watching 10 or 20 years from now... just isn't there.
All those legendary films people still watch today — "Mehed ei nuta," "Siin me oleme" — those were all made deep in the Soviet era, 40, 50, even 60 years ago. But where are the equivalent films today? Well, we had "Reetur," and now "Von Fock." That's about it. There are ten times fewer of them now simply because we can't afford to produce more.
And honestly, the situation is even worse than that. Like I said — we'll somehow manage to produce the next Song Festival broadcast. But it might mean "Välisilm" gets cut by five minutes. Figuratively speaking, of course. But the point is: there's nothing left to cut. Yes, a politician might say it's a deliberate choice — we don't want to fund that. That's their prerogative.
But here's the comparison that really matters: what does the public think? In annual trust surveys, ERR consistently ranks at the very top — well above, unfortunately, many of those who decide how much money we get.

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Editor: Marcus Turovski, Mait Ots








