Perhaps the biggest clue as to what “bigger, better, fewer” means is in another section of the article:
One thing many agree on is that the era of expensive vanity projects at Netflix, whether animation or live action (like Martin Scorsese’s $175 million The Irishman), is likely over. “This tendency to do anything to attract talent and giving them carte blanche is going away,” says one person.
This would be anything but a “subtle change.” The argument that Netflix’s touts have levied in defense of the firm as it has gobbled up market share, terraforming the entertainment industry to its liking, is that it’s been a refuge for creatives—a place where directors can make the art they want without fear of being reined in. Desperately seeking an Oscar, Netflix has, in recent years, produced a number of stunning works by legendary directors, The Irishman, Alfonso Cuaron’s Roma, and Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog being three recent, Academy Award–nominated examples.
The decision to back away from this type of fare—labeled “vanity projects” by Kit, who seems to be channeling the attitude of many executives—is revealing about what Netflix was doing by pursuing these directors. There was clearly an effort to brand Netflix as a place for everyone—not just folks looking to idle away a few hours watching reruns of New Girl or one of its endless, cobbled-together true crime documentaries—but also those who wanted to keep up with the latest work from top filmmakers. Naturally, establishing this brand identity served another purpose: It was a tidy public relations stunt designed to stave off the bad press that might naturally flow from the fact that ... you know, it was destroying the film and television industry in the name of “disruption.”