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Peacock’s New “Premium Plus Premium” Tier Costs $99.99/Month, Still Shows Ads, Still Buffers

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Peacock’s New “Premium Plus Premium” Tier Costs $99.99/Month, Still Shows Ads, Still Buffers

Peacock’s New “Premium Plus Premium” Tier Costs $99.99/Month, Still Shows Ads, Still Buffers

Well, folks, it’s happening again. Just when you thought the streaming wars couldn’t get any dumber, NBCUniversal has looked at the smoldering wreckage of consumer trust and said, “Hold my oat milk latte.” Peacock, the streaming service that feels like it was designed by a committee of people who have never actually used the internet, has just announced its latest masterstroke: a new “Premium Plus Premium” tier. And before you ask, yes, it costs a crisp Benjamin Franklin every single month. And yes, it still shows ads. And yes, it will still buffer during the climax of *The Office* for the 47th time.

Let’s pop the hood on this absolute dumpster fire, shall we?

First, the price. Ninety-nine dollars. A month. That’s not a streaming subscription, that’s a car payment for a 2005 Honda Civic with a check engine light that’s been on since the Obama administration. For that money, you could buy a nice steak dinner, two movie tickets, and a small bag of regret. Instead, Peacock wants you to hand that over for the privilege of watching *Law & Order: SVU* reruns in 720p.

But wait, there’s more! The name. “Premium Plus Premium.” That’s not a tier; that’s what happens when a marketing intern has a seizure on a keyboard. It’s like they looked at every other streaming service that has a sane naming convention—Basic, Standard, Premium—and said, “Nah, let’s make it sound like a timeshare seminar.” Next up: Peacock “Premium Plus Premium Deluxe Ultra Max” for $149.99, which just means they’ll send you a handwritten apology letter when the app crashes on your Smart TV.

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: the ads. The whole selling point of “Premium Plus” was that it was ad-free. That was a lie. It was always a lie. Remember when they said “limited ads” and then shoved a 90-second Geico commercial in your face during a 4-minute episode of *The Amber Ruffin Show*? Yeah, we remember. So now, with “Premium Plus Premium,” they’ve officially given up the pretense. The fine print on their website reads: “This tier may include promotional content, sponsor messages, and occasional interruptions for the purpose of ‘enhancing the viewing experience.’” Translation: You’re paying $100 a month to be a captive audience for a toothpaste ad.

But it gets better. The buffering. Oh, the buffering. Anyone who has tried to watch a live sporting event on Peacock knows the experience: the game is in the final two minutes, your team is down by three, and suddenly the screen freezes on a pixelated shot of a referee’s crotch. Then it loads for 45 seconds, and by the time it comes back, you’ve missed the game-winning touchdown and Peacock is showing you a trailer for *Megan Thee Stallion: The Documentary*. It’s like they designed the infrastructure using wet spaghetti and prayers.

And what do you get for this $99.99 investment? The same library you already had. Still no Harry Potter movies (those are on Max, you peasant). Still no Disney stuff (that’s on Disney+, obviously). Still no *Yellowstone* (that’s on Paramount+, and honestly, good luck figuring out where anything is). You get *The Office*, *Parks and Rec*, and a bunch of NBC shows you didn’t watch when they were free over the air. Oh, and you get to watch *The Super Bowl* one time a year, but it will buffer during the halftime show. You’re welcome.

The absolute audacity of this move is what’s killing me. Streaming services are already hemorrhaging subscribers because everyone is tired of paying for 17 different apps just to watch one show. Netflix is cracking down on password sharing. Disney+ is hiking prices. Now Peacock is here like, “Hey, what if we just charged you $1,200 a year and gave you a worse experience?” It’s the business equivalent of a toddler throwing a tantrum because you won’t buy them a second ice cream cone.

And let’s not forget the timing. This announcement dropped on a random Tuesday, like they were hoping no one would notice. “Hey, let’s bury this news under a celebrity divorce and a new *Spider-Man* trailer.” Nice try, NBCUniversal. We see you. We see you charging $99.99 for a service that still has a free tier. That’s right: you can watch Peacock for FREE with ads. So this “Premium Plus Premium” is literally paying $100 a month to have the same ads but with a slightly less aggressive buffering schedule. It’s like upgrading from a porta-potty to a slightly less smelly porta-potty.

I asked my friend who still pays for cable what he thought of this. He laughed for a solid 30 seconds and then said, “At least when I pay Comcast $200 a month, I get 400 channels of garbage. Peacock is just one channel of garbage for half the price.” He’s not wrong.

The only people who might actually buy this tier are the same folks who buy $500 iPhone cases and think “artisanal water” is worth $8 a bottle. Congratulations, you are the target market. You are the reason we can’t have nice things. You are the ones who will defend this by saying, “But I get to watch *The Office* in 4K!” (Spoiler: you don’t. It’s still 1080p. They lied about that too.)

At the end of the day, Peacock “Premium Plus Premium” is a masterclass in how to alienate your user base. It’s a cash grab, a middle finger to consumers, and a desperate attempt to make the quarterly numbers look good before the executives cash out their bonuses. The

Final Thoughts


The peacock's ostentatious display has always been nature’s most literal metaphor for vanity, but after reading this piece, I’m struck by how its beauty is actually a ruthless calculation—a gamble of survival hidden beneath iridescent feathers. It’s a humbling reminder that in the natural world, even the most breathtaking spectacle is often a mask for vulnerability, a desperate bid for attention that could just as easily attract a predator as a mate. Ultimately, the peacock doesn’t just strut for our admiration; it dances on the razor’s edge of evolution, and that tension is far more compelling than its plumage alone.