Greg Peters's blunt question — "what's the track record?" — put a spotlight on a debate that has quietly remade Hollywood boardrooms: when companies shop studios, are they buying buildings or the stories inside them? Speaking to MediaPost on Friday, the Netflix chief executive framed Warner Bros. Discovery's assets through a practical prism, suggesting that prospective suitors must demonstrate an ability to monetize IP at scale, not merely to operate a studio lot efficiently.

Peters’s skepticism comes as Warner Bros. Discovery remains commercially robust. Executives point out that WBD’s theatrical slate has outpaced rivals this year, leading all Hollywood studios with three months left in the calendar, a fact that underlines the continued value of tentpole films and their attendant franchise opportunities. That box-office strength, industry observers say, makes the company a rare combination of operational muscle and deep IP catalogs — from Batman to Harry Potter to DC's extended universe — that can be leveraged across streaming, licensing, merchandising and theme parks.

Analysts say Peters’s comments reflect a broader trend in media M&A: buyers increasingly prize ownership of intellectual property because it drives long-term, multi-platform revenue streams. "Studios are less about stages and more about story portfolios," said Rich Greenfield, a media analyst at LightShed Partners. "If you control global franchises, you control distribution leverage, advertiser value and consumer loyalty."

The recent example of Skydance Media's headline-grabbing acquisition of Paramount Global for $8 billion — a deal that prioritized studio operations but also highlighted the enduring worth of broadcast reach through CBS — has served as a template for would-be bidders. Paramount's ownership of CBS demonstrated that traditional broadcast assets still command advertiser attention and represent durable cashflow in an advertising market that has rebounded in the streaming era.

For Netflix, which built its growth on licensed content and original series, the calculus is different. Peters’s question is practical: would acquiring WBD substantially accelerate subscriber growth or profitability, or would Netflix pay for legacy costs and redundancy? His inquiry hints at a preference among platform owners for IP that feeds multiple monetization engines rather than one-off theatrical or cable revenue.

The consequences ripple beyond acquisition spreadsheets. Consolidation centered on franchise ownership could accelerate homogenization of content, concentrating cultural gatekeeping in fewer hands and raising antitrust scrutiny. It could also reshape labor markets: writers, directors and actors may find more centralized negotiating power but also fewer studios to which to sell projects.

Investors and regulators will watch closely. If bidders chase WBD primarily for IP, the deal could signal a new phase where platform scale and global distribution determine value more than balance-sheet synergies. That rearrangement would influence not only executive strategy but the kinds of stories that get made and promoted worldwide.

Peters’s question — short, almost rhetorical — is emblematic of the industry's shifting DNA. As media companies weigh assets, the answer to "what's the track record?" may decide who defines entertainment in the next decade.