Stupid question alert: How much money is enough for TKO?

— Also in the UFC, Helwani recently reported that there is apparently no overlap between the recent bump in fighter bonuses and the newly created finish bonuses. In other words, a fighter who earns a $100,000 bonus for “Performance of the Night” does not also get the $25,000 bonus promised to any fighter who finishes his or her opponent. Fighters can only receive the greater of the two bonuses — not both — even if they earn both a performance bonus and a finish in the same fight.

Probably by now you see where I’m going with this. TKO, as a company, is doing extremely well. When company executives talk to shareholders, the gist is that things almost couldn’t be better. The money is flowing in to TKO coffers and flowing back out to shareholders (remember, billion with a B) and top executives (TKO CEO Ari Emanuel saw a 272% jump in total compensation in 2025, bumping him up to around $67 million last year).

But when TKO talks to the talent, such as WWE wrestlers, then it’s belt-tightening time. You know those contracts you signed? Yeah, turns out we don’t actually want to pay you that much. And those UFC fighters who thought, hey, if things go well maybe they could be on the line for as much as $125,000 in bonuses? Nope, the company that paid four top executives — people who no fan has ever paid a single dollar to see — more than $150 million combined last year is going to find a way to chisel a measly $25,000 off that as well.

There is a word for this: Greed.

But somehow, greed doesn’t quite capture the enormity or the audacity of it. It’s like when Kevin Spacey’s character in “Se7en” decapitates a woman and calls it “envy.” Not exactly the way most of us are used to experiencing that particular vice.

No matter how much money this company makes, it is always looking for ways to take a little more from fans and give a little less to the people those fans are paying to see. Meanwhile, the people at the top, who seem to do little more than sitting around thinking of more ways to divert every stream into their own overflowing reservoir, keep banking more and more and more of the money.

At what point will they finally decide they have enough? How big do the profit margins and executive pay packages have to get before the focus shifts to something other than wringing every last cent out of this product?

Of course, I know as soon as I ask that it’s a stupid question. There is no such thing as enough. Profits must soar endlessly. Each year must be better than the last, at least on the balance sheet. Whether or not the product itself or the fan enthusiasm about that product improves, that’s a secondary concern at best. You could tell that much just by how TKO president Mark Shapiro dismissed concerns about UFC fight card quality during this week’s investor call.

(L-R) UFC CEO Dana White, TKO/Endeavor CEO Ariel Emanuel, WWE Chief Content Officer Paul Levesque, WWE President Nick Khan, and TKO/Endeavor President and COO Mark Shapiro pose outside the New York Stock Exchange.

(Michelle Farsi via Getty Images)

“Bottom line is, we don’t buy it,” Shapiro said. “Let’s just start with this premise: The product is great at the UFC, the brand has never been stronger, our reach has never been greater. So, the foundational elements of UFC are in concrete. Anyone that came to our last numbered fight in Miami, which was UFC 327, was flat-out blown away.”

We don’t buy it. Ah, well then. Case closed.

Never mind that the Miami event saw a decline for the UFC in terms of live gate revenue, with fans complaining of high ticket prices and too little bang for the buck on the card. Pricing your own fan base out of the experience is just part of the deal when your only aim is to find the absolute limit that the market will bear.

This, I realize, is just how unfettered capitalism looks in the world of pro sports. The rich want to get wealthy. The wealthy must become kings. The kings can only think about becoming gods. And when you essentially own entire sports that don’t have anything resembling a union or collective-bargaining association for the athletes, there’s nothing to stop you from stretching that rubber band until it snaps.

But it’s still so striking, this disparity between what the executives say to the shareholders (the money is flowing like a mountain stream, lads) and what they say to the talent (bad news about your contracted pay, friend). Then there’s the disparity between what the executives say about the product (couldn’t be better, blowing people away at every stop) and what fans say about their current level of satisfaction with the events (if you love ads and are only lukewarm on wrestling, this last WrestleMania was for you).

You could maybe understand it if the company was struggling to turn a profit. Then, sure, go ahead and sell your $1.5 million VIP packages and hunt for cost-cutting opportunities like a working bloodhound.

But clearly, the money is there. TKO execs are practically festooning their bedchambers with it. They’re lathering the shareholders in it. There is enough! So why isn’t it ever enough?