Netflix is still the king of streaming—but even kings face limits. According to recent reporting from The Wall Street Journal, the platform is running low on new frontiers. Global expansion has matured, content spending is tightening, and growth is stagnating across most major markets. But the real issue may not be geography. It may be vision.

Despite a decade of disrupting Hollywood and redefining how the world consumes television and film, Netflix—and its streaming peers—have yet to fully tap into one of the most creative, profitable, and loyal consumer markets on Earth: Black audiences.

One Note in a Global Symphony

Let’s talk numbers. According to Nielsen’s 2023 “Diverse Intelligence” report, Black audiences in the U.S. watch more television than any other racial group—averaging over 50 hours per week, compared to the national average of 32 hours. That’s nearly 60% more screen time. And yet, Black-led or culturally Black content remains scarce and underfunded on most streaming platforms.

Netflix has invested heavily in South Korean content—successfully, no doubt. Shows like Squid Game and All of Us Are Dead have brought global acclaim. But while K-content gets hundreds of millions in production budgets and global promotion, Black creators are still pitching low-budget struggle stories to limited slates and lukewarm execs.

In 2022, only 4.4% of all original scripted shows across major streaming services were created by Black showrunners, according to a UCLA diversity report. Meanwhile, nearly 75% of all lead roles on Netflix still skew white or European-centric. For every Top Boy or Colin in Black & White, there are dozens of war dramas, sci-fi thrillers, and rom-coms starring the same recycled casts.

This is not just a diversity problem. It’s a business failure.

The Cost of Ignoring the Culture

Black consumers in the U.S. hold over $1.7 trillion in buying power as of 2023—and that number is growing. We drive trends in fashion, music, tech, and yes—media. From Power to Insecure, The Best Man to The Wood, Black-led shows and films consistently build cult followings, fuel social media virality, and carry cross-demographic appeal. Still, Hollywood seems more interested in our pain than our possibilities.

Let’s be real: how many documentaries do we need about crack epidemics and inner-city trauma before someone gives us a biopic on Reginald F. Lewis—the first Black man to pull off a billion-dollar leveraged buyout? The man bought Beatrice International using 100% borrowed capital, flipped it global, and became a Wall Street legend. That’s a Netflix Original waiting to happen. But instead, we get a docuseries about the dark side of Atlanta’s Freaknik, as if Black joy and culture can’t be historic on their own terms.

Three Moves That Could Change the Game

Netflix and its competitors aren’t out of ideas—they’re just not listening to the right voices. Here’s how they can turn things around:

1. Inject Capital into Young Black-Owned Studios

There’s no shortage of talent—just a shortage of opportunity. Streaming services should create grant and equity-based funding mechanisms for emerging Black creators, particularly those outside of traditional LA/NY circuits. From Atlanta to Baltimore, Harlem to Houston, we’re building stories that reflect the fullness of our lives.

2. Shift the Narrative from Trauma to Triumph

Greenlight projects that showcase Black legacy, wealth-building, romance, adventure, and imagination. Give us a Black sci-fi epic. A Wall Street thriller based on real Black billionaires. A series about the African kingdoms that predate European colonization. Our stories stretch further than slavery and survival.

3. Reward Black-Owned Brands That Drive Subscriptions

Black-owned media outlets, social platforms, and cultural tastemakers are the engine behind many subscriber spikes—yet they’re rarely compensated for their influence. Create affiliate partnerships and ad-sharing agreements that reward the very culture-drivers streaming platforms depend on.

Bottom Line:
The growth ceiling Netflix is feeling isn’t about geography. It’s about cultural imagination. There are entire worlds—Black worlds—still waiting to be explored. The audience is here. The talent is here. The money is here. The question is: will the platforms show up?