The Deal That Could Change TV - or end up breaking it…

In the past week I’ve had a a lot of interest in the deal I struck between my production company, Legend Entertainment, and Hearst/Sky HISTORY for my new show Battle Treasures. Colleagues, producers, even a few commissioners have asked how it happened, why they agreed to it, and whether it might work elsewhere. This feels like the right moment to explain it properly (as far as I can), definitely not as a boast, but as a small case study in how television might rebuild itself.

For decades, the commissioning model has assumed broadcasters carry the main financial risk and therefore deserve the lion’s share of rights. Indies accepted that logic because tariffs were once high enough to sustain margins, and owning rights meant little without global distribution. Times have changed. Budgets have been slashed, margins have collapsed, and platforms have multiplied. Yet the old structures remain. Channels still cling to exclusivity and long holdbacks, as though locking a programme in a cupboard were the same thing as creating value.

The Battle Treasures deal set out to test whether a different balance was possible.

The Reflex of Exclusivity

Exclusivity once made sense. In the linear era, the schedule was the product. Channels competed for appointment viewing, and a “first and only” status could be sold. In an on-demand world, that logic is faintly absurd. When content can be watched anywhere, locking it to a single platform is self-sabotage.

It’s like Kellogg’s insisting Cornflakes are sold only in one small supermarket chain. However loyal those shoppers are, you limit reach and growth. Let the cereal prove itself across other stores and everybody wins: Kellogg’s grows the market and the original supermarket still benefits from being the home of the premiere.

Yet the reflex persists. The opening line of most international negotiations is still, “We’ll fund part of it, but we must have all of it.” There’s comfort in that position, a legacy sense of power. But power doesn’t automatically create growth. The more a broadcaster insists on total control, the fewer partners it attracts and the less sustainable the market becomes.

When I began discussions with Hearst, that instinct was still there. They loved the concept, Foxy and Bruce bringing history to life through extraordinary artefacts, but the idea of commissioning a show without complete exclusivity felt risky. In the end, however, the logic landed.

Redefining the Commission

From the first meeting I was clear I wasn’t seeking a traditional commissioning fee. I proposed something I called “an acquisition with benefits”: lower up-front cost for the broadcaster, higher long-term risk for the producer, and a more flexible rights structure for both. In short, a model that valued speed and reach over ownership.

When it reached lawyers it sounded heretical. How could a channel commission a series and end up with an acquisition-style position? But if I was carrying the majority of the cost, why should the broadcaster also control the rights? Their upside would be brand halo and immediate return; mine would be the long tail.

This required absolute transparency. I showed where our money went and what efficiencies we’d built in. Once Hearst saw the structure protected them rather than exploited them, the tone shifted. They would get premium content at a fraction of the usual cost; we would keep the freedom to grow the brand beyond broadcast.

To their credit, they were superb partners. Cashflow is the silent killer of most indies, but Hearst paid promptly and fairly. That single act made the experiment viable.

The Holdback That Unlocked Value

The real breakthrough was the holdback. Traditionally, broadcasters lock a programme for months before the producer can do anything else with it a hangover from linear scheduling that now throttles opportunity.

When Hearst agreed to reduce the holdback, everything changed. They kept a short exclusivity window, but afterwards we could share the content across the wider Amazing War Stories ecosystem and sell it to partners outside their networks. Battle Treasures could live far beyond its TV slot, feeding YouTube, podcasts and future opportunities. The audience could encounter the same world across multiple platforms rather than being funnelled into one window.

It wasn’t a trivial concession. It required a different view of value. Do you want to own a static product or be part of a living brand which ultimately - if it plays out the way we want, will drive viewers to your channel and platforms? Hearst chose the latter, and that single decision unlocked creative and commercial possibilities that would have been impossible under a traditional rights regime.

Flipping the Risk

The financial structure was equally unconventional. In a standard commission, the producer earns a healthy production fee and a slim chance of backend income. The broadcaster takes the upfront risk and commands the rewards. We inverted that. Due to the low budget Legend could only earn a small production fee, having faith that in the end that we would earn money in the long run from a stronger back-end position. Hearst on the other hand benefited from a low entry cost for a premium series that could play across their international portfolio.

Yes, Legend absorbed more risk than usual and this model for some won’t be appetising. However, I believe risk and ownership are twins. If you want one, you take the other.

Like every production, we hit headwinds and unexpected costs. An honest conversation with the commissioners led to them covering a small overage. They didn’t have to. They simply recognised the risk we were taking. After the initial contractual tussles, the rest was smooth: clear notes, responsive departments, a shared sense of purpose.

Why did they do it? Because Hearst, under Heather Jones’s leadership, has created an environment where people can experiment with new models. They understand that television has to evolve.

What makes this sustainable is not a single deal but an ecosystem. Each Battle Treasures episode fuels YouTube, social, podcasts and potential live events. Every platform feeds the next. When the rights are yours, you think horizontally. When they’re not, you deliver vertically and that ladder is getting shorter.

In a way, we’ve gone back to how television began. In the early days, the true risk-takers were creators and small production companies, not broadcasters. Over time, the balance shifted because channels had the capital. Technology has flattened the field again. You can produce, publish and distribute from your laptop. Millions already do it, funding their own work and building audiences. The difference is scale and polish, not philosophy.

What Digital Creators Already Know

Television has been slow to learn from that world. It still behaves as though creative risk must be underwritten by a corporate entity. What matters is not who writes the cheque; it’s who holds the rights when the cheque clears.

Adopting a digital mindset doesn’t mean abandoning rigour. It means embracing agility. Fast cycles. Simple approvals. A direct relationship with the audience. That’s what the Battle Treasures structure allowed us to do: act like a studio, deliver like a broadcaster, think like a creator.

However, the most transformative element of the deal I think was speed. Everything about the project was accelerated: pitch, greenlight, production, delivery. We had one set of notes, one clear line of authority, no circular approvals. I was trusted to get on with it. The channel knew there was as much riding on this for me as for them and I was allowed to concentrate on the most important thing - creating great content.

Compressing time also changed the economics. A faster process meant a smaller budget could still deliver high value because less money was lost to drift. It also kept the creative energy alive. You can feel that pace on screen; the show has momentum because the production did.

Speed isn’t just efficiency. It signals confidence. It tells everyone involved that the makers know where they’re going. When you move at that rhythm you rediscover something television lost: urgency.

Audiences now expect new content constantly. The only way to feed that appetite without collapsing under cost is to move faster and own what you make. If Battle Treasures works for Sky HISTORY, I can deliver a new series within six months of the first airing.

Partnership, Not Patronage

If this sounds like a puff piece for Hearst, perhaps it is. However, the reason I think this deal matters is not just rights or economics - it’s the spirit of partnership, and it’s something I want all the channels and broadcasters to embrace. Finding the right partner is everything. After tough negotiation, the agreement was built on mutual respect. Hearst backed a small company when they didn’t have to. They trusted us to deliver on time and on brand. They were pragmatic enough to test a new approach.

If more broadcasters behaved like that, the industry would be in far better shape. The obsession with control has drained energy from commissioning. What we need now are genuine collaborations: broadcasters who see value in helping indies build long-term IP rather than extracting short-term content.

Hearst’s prompt cashflow wasn’t a minor courtesy; it was essential. Indies don’t fail because of bad ideas. They fail because of slow money and slower often terrible decisions. Paying on time isn’t generosity; it’s good business.

I also wanted to prove that this kind of deal isn’t just for the super-indies and studios who can absorb cost and risk. I’m a tiny company and we made it work. It was hard and painful at times. That’s television. The point is that with the right partner, it’s possible.

The Road Ahead

Will this model work for everyone? Probably not. It demands appetite for risk and the capability to monetise the backend. It demands you work for less with the promise of greater returns somewhere down the line. Not everyone will like the thought of that but I also believe, if you think you’re so good then you actually have back yourself.

So for some, this model wont work. Remember my article on the content dumbbell? Well this is in practice. This is content that is not super high-end, it’s premium factual designed for volume and not everyone knows how to, or want to play in this end of the market. It does, however, offer a glimpse of how the next phase of factual television could function.

We’re moving towards a hybrid world where broadcasters act more like investors and producers behave more like studios. The boundaries between commissioning, co-production and acquisition are blurring. What will matter most is speed, clarity and shared purpose.

For producers, that means building brands that live beyond one screen. For broadcasters, it means accepting that ownership isn’t the only route to value. For audiences, it means more stories made by people who actually believe in them.

The Battle Treasures deal worked because both sides understood what they were really buying. Hearst weren’t purchasing a set of episodes; they were investing in momentum. We weren’t selling a show; we were building a world.

Television now has to decide whether it wants to own things or grow them. Because if broadcasters don’t start thinking more progressively about how they work with producers, the entire system will eventually crash under its own weight.

If that sounds dramatic, good. The truth is simple: evolve or die.