For years, one of the quiet selling points of a WWE contract was the promise of royalties. DVDs, action figures, video games, and the endless replay value of pay-per-views once created the idea that a wrestler could keep earning long after the match ended.
But in the streaming era, that safety net may not exist the way many talents assume.
David Otunga, the former Nexus member turned attorney and media personality, is now using his legal background to break down the financial realities of modern wrestling deals. And his message to current and future talent is direct: do not count on residuals to carry your contract.
Addressing the subject of WWE royalties on his YouTube channel, Otunga explained how the shift from physical media to streaming has altered the economics. “All of WWE’s library, it’s streaming, and pretty much it’ll be at Netflix or whatever platform,” Otunga said. “Those are licensed matches, licensed appearances. Basically, the wrestlers are being paid once for that. There are no royalties or residuals from that. You’re paid for your appearance, that’s it.”
In other words, the replay value of a classic match no longer translates into recurring checks the way DVD sales once did. A bout that might live forever on a streaming service generates platform licensing revenue for the company, but not necessarily ongoing royalty payments for the performer.
Otunga believes that reality should fundamentally change how wrestlers approach negotiations. “Make sure you get a larger downside guarantee,” he advised. “Don’t let them try to convince you or con you with residuals or royalties, because they’re not what they used to be. So take your money up front.”
That advice runs counter to the romanticized idea of passive income from a wrestling career. For decades, talent were told that merchandise cuts, home video releases, and ancillary media would supplement their base pay. Otunga argues that the smarter strategy in today’s environment is securing a strong guaranteed salary from the start.
He also suggested that if performers truly want meaningful residual income, the path may lie outside the ring. “Make a big enough name for yourself where you can land a spot on a TV show, or in a movie,” Otunga noted. “That’s where you’ll make some royalties and residual payments.”
The broader implication is that wrestling contracts have evolved in step with media consumption. As streaming platforms consolidate content libraries under flat licensing agreements, the traditional royalty structure loses leverage. That puts more pressure on talent to understand contract language, revenue splits, and the difference between guaranteed money and speculative upside.
For fans, the debate over royalties may feel distant from the action on screen. For wrestlers negotiating their futures, it can define long-term financial stability. Otunga’s perspective, shaped by both his in-ring experience and Harvard law training, reframes the conversation from nostalgia about the DVD era to realism about streaming economics.
The takeaway is less about WWE specifically and more about modern media contracts as a whole. In an industry built on performance, the smartest move may no longer be betting on residual glory. It may be securing the guarantee and treating everything else as a bonus.
