With over 27 million sub­scribers in the United States alone and an impressive algo­rithm that deter­mines user behavior, Netflix created a show that was des­tined for success before the first season was even released. Although the math­e­matical inspi­ration behind “House of Cards” ensured the shows success, it has also changed the craft of tele­vision writing.

A piece in The New York Times found that the Netflix algo­rithm detected three com­po­nents that led to the cre­ation of the online series. David Fincher, the director of “House of Cards,” was also the director of “The Social Network,” a film well-reviewed according to the algo­rithm. Kevin Spacey and the British version of “House of Cards” also revealed remarkable interest among viewers. Netflix had every­thing it needed to create a suc­cessful tele­vision show: a director, lead actor, and concept with proven popular appeal.

“House of Cards” coasted its way to the award for 2013 Best Tele­vision Series at the Golden Globes. The show is smart and enter­taining. The addiction of the show stems from the char­acters’ obsession with power that guides their every move. The cold, cal­cu­lating nature of the show’s char­acters reflects the same sci­en­tific back­ground of the show’s cre­ation.

The algo­rithm that pro­vided the idea for “House of Cards” removes the warmth found in less cal­cu­lating shows like Aaron Sorkin’s “The West Wing.” Sorkin created the true best political drama on tele­vision. His char­acters and rich dia­logue on “The West Wing” remain unmatched.

A fearless pres­ident with strong ties to his alma mater, a cheeky press sec­retary with roots in show business, and a loyal chief of staff who calls the pres­ident his best friend are a few of the most loved per­son­al­ities on tele­vision.

In his critical analysis of Pres­ident Bartlet, Yair Rosenburg crit­i­cized the fic­tional powers of the president’s per­son­ality in a famous scene from the show’s sixth season where the “charis­matic Bartlet locks himself in a room with the Chinese pres­ident and –– despite being hobbled by an attack of mul­tiple scle­rosis –– per­sonally secures an unprece­dented summit for nuclear talks with North Korea.” Although “The West Wing” does not embrace a real­istic plot line, Sorkin creates a White House staff that viewers would approve to lead their country.

The “House of Cards” pres­ident is pathetic and manip­u­latable. There is no press sec­retary to charm an audience with spunky press con­fer­ences. “House of Cards” is far from the loveable, func­tioning White House that Sorkin creates. Frank Underwood and his wife Claire are clever, relentless, and cold. Claire, the CEO of a non-profit, black­mails pregnant employees by with­holding medical insurance.

Frank, the majority whip in the House, primes a vul­nerable rep­re­sen­tative for the Penn­syl­vania governor’s seat, only to destroy the representative’s livelihood. Fincher’s show has a rubber neck effect. It is nearly impos­sible to avoid watching the bril­liant schemes Frank and Claire craft from episode to episode.

The largest dif­ference between Sorkin’s “The West Wing” and Fincher’s “House of Cards” does not come down to plot, char­acters, or dia­logue. It rests on the muse of each show. There is a reason that Aaron Sorkin wins awards and Beau Willimon, the screen­writer for “House of Cards” remains unknown. Willimon simply Amer­i­canized a show that was already suc­cessful, according to an algo­rithm. Aaron Sorkin created a new concept that suc­ceeded because of his cre­ativity and talent.

Netflix found a loophole in cre­ating good tele­vision. If any­thing, the industry will only serve audi­ences more effec­tively. The mechanics of writing a quality show is simply going to change, most likely for the better. But the tele­vision industry can’t help but wonder if flawless pro­jec­tions of what will make good tele­vision will stunt the artistry of screen­writing.