In the HBO series Succession, billionaire Logan Roy’s children spent four seasons scheming, backstabbing, and making offers to inherit a media empire. This week, the real version played out with more zeros and a $252 billion Oracle stake. Time for a closer look:
On Friday, Warner Bros. Discovery’s board agreed to sell the company to Netflix for $72 billion. By Monday, Paramount had launched a hostile tender offer directly to shareholders at $30 per share, all cash. In this post I will be going into the gap between those two numbers, streaming economics, aggregator theory, and hostile deal mechanics.
The Netflix offer breaks down into three pieces: $23.25 per share in cash, $4.50 per share in Netflix stock subject to a collar, and shares in a spun-off entity called Discovery Global containing CNN and the cable networks that Netflix doesn’t want. Analysts value that stub somewhere between $2 and $5 per share, which puts the total package at roughly $29.75 to $32.75. Paramount is offering $30 per share in cash for the entire company, including the cable assets. Warner’s stock closed Friday at $26.08 and opened Monday around $27.64, which tells you the market expects a bidding war but isn’t fully convinced either deal closes.
We’re sitting on Wall Street, where cash is still king. We are offering shareholders $17.6 billion more cash than the deal they currently have signed up with Netflix.
David Ellison’s arithmetically correct. Warner’s board took the Netflix deal anyway. This gets at something I learned in a dealmaking class in University: Boards weight speculative ideas of long-term value. They believe the Discovery Global spinoff might be worth $5, that Netflix stock has upside, that strategic fit matters. Shareholders, particularly the arbs and institutional holders who actually vote, prefer certainty. Thirty dollars in cash is just $30 in cash. As Matt Levine noted, “$30 in cash is worth more than, well, again, the stock closed at $26.08 on Friday.” The board’s job is to maximize long-term shareholder value. The shareholders would like their value now, please.
The strategic logic behind Netflix’s offer deserves examination. Both companies began as distributors. The Warner brothers opened a movie theater in Pennsylvania in 1907 before moving into film production; Netflix mailed DVDs before becoming a streaming giant. The crucial difference: physical distribution has capacity constraints, while internet distribution has none. A theater seat that goes unsold is lost revenue forever. The marginal costs of Netflix to deliver to one more subscriber, whether that subscriber is in Zurich or Tokio, are essentially zero. This asymmetry explains why Netflix is worth $425 billion and the combined legacy studios are worth a fraction of that. Consider what Netflix does to content it doesn’t own. Drive to Survive transformed Formula. Apple is now paying $150 million annually for F1 broadcast rights that ESPN once carried for free. NBCUniversal’s Suits sat dormant on Peacock until Netflix licensed it and turned it into a streaming phenomenon. In each case, Netflix created enormous value but captured little of it. The logical next step: own the IP instead of renting it.
This is what Ben Thompson calls aggregation economics. Hollywood executives spent years insisting that content was king, and for decades they were right. When distribution required owning theaters, securing broadcast licenses, or negotiating cable carriage, the studios held leverage. The internet eliminated those bottlenecks. Now the scarce resource isn’t access to content but attention, and the companies that own the customer relationship capture most of the value. Netflix grasped this early; the legacy studios chased streaming without understanding why Netflix was winning. The result: Netflix commands a market cap of $425 billion, while Paramount’s standalone value sits around $15 billion.
Paramount’s financing structure is worth looking at. The tender offer filing is backed by $54 billion in debt commitments from Bank of America, Citigroup, and Apollo, plus a $40.4 billion equity backstop from Larry Ellison’s trust. That trust holds approximately 1.16 billion Oracle shares worth around $252 billion at current prices. Additional equity comes from Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, Abu Dhabi’s L’imad Holding, Qatar Investment Authority, and Affinity Partners. To avoid CFIUS jurisdiction, the foreign investors have waived all governance and voting rights.
Hostile Tender Mechanics
In a friendly deal, the target’s board negotiates terms and recommends shareholders accept. In a hostile tender, the acquirer goes directly to shareholders with a public offer, bypassing the board. Warner’s board has 10 business days to respond with a recommendation. Defense mechanisms exist (poison pills, enhanced breakup fees) but all invite litigation. The best defense is usually more money from the preferred bidder.
The antitrust arguments on both sides are instructive. Ellison argues that combining Netflix (#1 in streaming) with HBO Max (#3) is anticompetitive: “It’s like saying Coke could buy Pepsi because Budweiser sells a lot of beer.” Netflix counters by pointing to Nielsen’s TV viewing data, which shows Netflix at 8% of total TV usage, slightly below Paramount’s 8.2%. By that measure, Netflix ranks sixth overall, with YouTube at #1 and Disney at #2. The relevant market definition will determine whether this deal survives regulatory review.
If regulators define the market narrowly as “subscription video on demand,” combining Netflix with HBO Max looks troubling. If they define it as “all video consumption,” Netflix is one player among many, competing against YouTube’s bottomless catalog of free content. This framing matters because YouTube already exceeds Netflix in total viewing time. The existential threat facing Hollywood isn’t consolidation among paid streamers. It’s the democratization of content creation itself. Every teenager with a smartphone is a potential competitor for audience attention. The hours flowing to TikTok and YouTube creators don’t flow to HBO. From this vantage point, Netflix absorbing Warner Bros. looks less like monopolization than like circling the wagons. Ellison offered his counter-narrative on Monday: the Netflix deal means “the death of the theatrical movie business in Hollywood.” He promised to put 30 movies a year in theaters exclusively and to combine CBS News with CNN into what he called a news service “in the trust business, the truth business” that “speaks to the 70% of Americans that are in the middle.” Whether you find this vision compelling probably depends on your priors about theatrical distribution and centrist news. The deal timeline matters. Netflix’s offer is expected to take 12-18 months to close, driven by antitrust review. Paramount claims its offer has a faster path to regulatory approval. If Warner’s shareholders ultimately take Paramount’s offer, Warner owes Netflix a $2.8 billion breakup fee. If Netflix’s deal collapses after the review period, Netflix owes Warner $5.8 billion, one of the largest breakup fees on record.
Breakup Fee Economics
Breakup fees serve two functions: compensating the jilted bidder for deal expenses and transaction costs, and creating a hurdle for competing offers. A $5.8 billion reverse breakup fee equals roughly $2 per Warner share, meaning any competing bid needs to clear that hurdle to be economically equivalent. The size of Netflix’s fee signals both confidence and a willingness to pay for optionality.
Warner’s stock trading below both offers reflects the compounded uncertainties: antitrust risk, timeline risk, financing risk, and the possibility that both deals fall apart. The 12-18 month window creates a lot of room for things to change. Interest rates could move. The administration’s antitrust priorities could shift. Netflix’s stock could fall further, reducing the value of the stock component. Paramount’s financing consortium could develop cold feet.
What happens next is procedurally straightforward. Warner’s board will respond to Paramount’s tender offer within 10 business days. Netflix will likely raise its bid; Ellison signaled Monday that $30 “wasn’t best and final.” The arbs will push for whichever deal offers better risk-adjusted value. Whoever wins will spend the next year in antitrust review while the other side’s lawyers look for grounds to challenge.
Hollywood’s century-old industrial structure is unwinding regardless of which bid prevails. The studio system emerged when controlling both production and distribution created durable advantages. The internet dissolved those advantages by making distribution essentially free and universally accessible. Warner Bros. spent a century building an integrated media empire; Netflix spent two decades proving that owning the customer relationship matters more than owning the soundstages. The question isn’t whether legacy media consolidates into tech platforms. It’s which platform, at what price, and whether inherited wealth can rewrite the outcome. I doubt it. On the internet, aggregators tend to win, and Netflix is the aggregator in video.