In 1997, Reed Hastings and Marc Randolph were trying to name a DVD-by-mail company. They had a list of candidates. "Netflix" was on it — a portmanteau of "Net" (the internet, through which orders would be placed) and "Flix" (American slang for movies, derived from "flicks," itself derived from "flicker," the visual artifact of early film projection).
It was a good name. Short, memorable, self-explanatory. Two syllables. No obvious spelling problems. It gestured toward both the delivery mechanism and the product category without being too literal about either.
The domain was taken.
The Other Netflix
Netflix.com was registered to a small company that had no plans to sell. The details of the negotiation have been polished into legend over the years, but the outcome is documented: Hastings and Randolph acquired the domain before launching, and the company registered its federal trademark. The U.S. trademark for NETFLIX in entertainment services dates to 1998.
What's less often discussed is what they were trading on when they chose that name. "Flix" as a word for movies had been in American vernacular since the 1920s. Adding "Net" to existing slang was a pattern in late-1990s naming — a lot of internet companies were doing it. Hastings and Randolph were aware of this and chose the name anyway, partly because the portmanteau approach had a logic to it and partly because the alternatives were worse.
The name they were competing against internally included "Kibble" — which Randolph reportedly liked and Hastings did not. Hastings's veto prevailed. The world did not get Kibble.com.
On the pronunciation: The company's name was originally pronounced internally as "Net-flix" with a hard break between the two components. As the brand became ubiquitous, the pronunciation softened into a single word. The trademark covers both the word mark and the distinctive red-and-white logotype that has become one of the most recognizable brand elements in entertainment.
The Trademark That Became a Verb
By 2007, Netflix had introduced streaming and begun the transition away from DVDs. By 2013, it was producing original content. By 2020, "Netflix and chill" had entered common usage, the red N had become a global symbol, and the company was operating in 190 countries.
That global expansion created a trademark management problem that most companies never have to solve: protecting a consumer-facing brand across jurisdictions with different trademark laws, different registration requirements, and different existing marks. In some countries, the NETFLIX mark was available for straightforward registration. In others, there were existing local marks in similar classes that required negotiation or opposition proceedings.
The EU trademark for NETFLIX was registered without major opposition — the name was distinctive enough and the company had moved fast enough that there were no entrenched conflicts. The Chinese market, where trademark squatting is endemic for foreign brand names, presented more challenges. Netflix has pursued those registrations aggressively, as any company with a brand of its scale is obligated to do.
What the Name Actually Did
The interesting thing about "Netflix" as a trademark is how well it survived a complete business model change. The company launched as a DVD-by-mail service. The "Net" in the name referred to ordering online, not streaming. By the time streaming replaced DVDs, the name had accumulated enough independent meaning that nobody noticed the original reference had become obsolete.
That's what good trademarks do. They start as descriptions and become identities. "Netflix" no longer means "internet movies ordered by mail." It means the specific company, its specific content, its specific experience. The underlying words have been overwritten by the brand.
Reed Hastings stepped down as co-CEO in 2023. The company he named with a portmanteau and a purchased domain had 260 million subscribers in 190 countries. The trademark he registered in 1998 for a DVD rental service is now one of the most valuable entertainment brands on the planet. The domain negotiation, whatever it cost, turned out fine.