It sounds like fun. But in reality, the number of cable channels has topped out. And the number of households that subscribe to basic cable—about 65 million—hasn’t budged for a decade. That’s roughly 58 percent of all American TV households and it’s a much higher percentage of the total households that advertisers actually care about. People who have something to sell are attracted to viewers who have already demonstrated their willingness to buy something (like cable TV). The cable business is booming: Annual advertising revenues have jumped from $8.1 billion in 1997 to a projected $28.6 billion this year.

So before the death knell tolls, let’s consider some ways broadcast TV might be reborn.

1. Accept the fact that niche is the new normal.

The most popular cable networks average fewer than 3 million viewers a night. But add up all those little niches, and how much of an audience is left? Even TNT and USA, the two cable channels whose original programming most closely resembles that of broadcast networks, are carving out distinctive spaces for themselves. Turner Networks president Steve Koonin has successfully promoted TNT as a network for drama and TBS as a home for comedy—two old-school broadcast mainstays. But, he says, “Within the wide berth of comedy and drama as prospective brands, we’re looking at where there are underserved audiences, and we’re finding them in family viewers, African Americans, women, and action lovers.”

When groups that vast are being won over by cable, broadcast’s claim that it reaches for everyone starts to ring a little hollow, especially when cable networks are making shows that are just like broadcast series, except a little better. To be fair to the networks, the playing field isn’t level: Small cable channels can impress advertisers simply by growing. Networks can’t—so a show with a viewership of 4 million is a hit on USA and a flop on CBS. But the differences are diminishing. In the spring, Koonin took an aggressive gamble to make this clear: He scheduled Turner Networks’ upfronts cheek-to-cheek with those of the broadcast networks.

“Koonin was brilliant,” says Brian Terkelsen, of the brand consultancy MediaVest. “In my opinion, that was the turning point. We’ll all look back and say the one riff that he did onstage that week shifted everything for cable and broadcasting. What he did was, he got up there and said, ‘If I were to tell you the story of two networks, and one had a talking car and a steroid in a unitard who was beating up an average guy in a game show, and the other had an Academy Award-winning actress in her second season and a Golden Globe winner in her fourth season, which would you think was which?’ ” Koonin then unveiled slides of the cheesy shows—NBC’s Knight Rider and American Gladiators—and the classy ones: TNT’s Saving Grace and The Closer. Point made, brutally. “If anybody in the room didn’t think, ‘Holy shit! It's all changed,'" Terkelsen says, “they’re morons.”

2. Know your brand.

“There are an awful lot of channels available to people in the average digital home,” says FX president John Landgraf. “So if you don’t stand for something, you stand for nothing.” FX, he says, “appeals to people with a certain taste for edgy, innovative quality.” He has established the brand with material that’s positioned exactly halfway between what the networks and pay cable offer. Its signature shows—Rescue Me, The Shield, Damages, Nip/Tuck—tend to be hard-­driving adult dramas that are one big step raunchier, bloodier, sexier, cooler, and rougher than the broadcast networks’ cop/lawyer/doctor equivalents.

It wasn’t a smooth road for the network, which was founded in 1994. “FX toyed, in its earlier incarnations, with various branding strategies,” Landgraf recalls, “from live television—its original motto was ‘TV made fresh daily’—to a time when it was much more explicitly appealing to men.” Back then, it often looked like the Nascar channel. To redefine itself, FX had to make casual viewers expendable in order to build its rep with committed ones. “We want to have somebody’s favorite show,” Landgraf says, “not everybody’s 10th-favorite show.”

Rebranding to that degree isn’t without its risks. Several years ago, Bravo became a haven for young, hip, gay-friendly consumers with lots of disposable income. That meant walking away from the (few) viewers who knew it as a poor man’s PBS, a repository for dusty filmed productions of Swan Lake. If the one-two punch of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and Project Runway hadn’t succeeded, the channel could well have gone down for the count. Similarly, at Turner, Koonin canceled TNT’s most popular offering—wrestling—in order to make its metamorphosis into a drama-driven cable network credible.