The issues here are complicated and in some ways pit the various categories of theatrical artist against one another.



The argument against the actors getting a share of the profits generally is expressed as some version of the theory that returns on investments should go to those who risk their capital.



In the case of Broadway, that risk is very high. Most shows do not return any of their original investment, and only a very select club has actually generated massive profits. What has changed is that the members of that club, thanks to the benefits of sophisticated yield management tools and global branding advancements, now generate more money than ever. And the biggest hits can now play for decades, as with "Wicked" and "The Lion King."



Of course, as in Hollywood, predicting which shows will become the next hit is about as easy as, in my business, predicting which stories will get the most clicks. You can follow some guidelines — celebrities help, pre-awareness helps, controversy helps — but if a formula existed everyone would copy it. Hits are usually a surprise. Sure things often miss. Experience generally teaches that the best way to make money in entertainment is to bet on talented people and stand by them when they falter. So should not those loyal investors in the Miranda brand reap the rewards, over the Johnny-come-lately actors?



It's not necessarily a right-wing argument to privilege the providers of capital. If say, Apple is paying out enormous royalties to those who are developing the iPhone, then that expense reduces the returns to those who have invested in Apple, the company, all their lives and may well be much less rich than those talented designers who needed capital to do their thing?



Most Broadway producers are not impoverished. But they do reach a point when they complain about royalty-creep. Traditionally, only writers and composers get royalties (and there are writers and composers who argue it should stay that way, given that these professions are the most royalty-dependent of them all). But these days directors get them, too — Thomas Kail of "Hamilton" reportedly gets a well-earned 2 percent off the top, and the choreographer, Andy Blankenbuehler, gets his deserved 1.5 percent. I'll do the weekly math for you based on that $1 million in overage: $20,000 and $15,000, or around $1 million and $750,000 a year, respectively. Potentially for decades, not even factoring in adjustments for inflation.



You likely can double that after Chicago opens. And then triple it for London. And quadruple it for Los Angeles. And then, well, you get the idea. And you thought nobody in theater made money.



Most people do not, of course. And the "Hamilton" actors, whose bank accounts are now swelling by those standards, have made a case that they were intricately involved in the development of the show. You can find evidence of this in the new book about "Hamilton" by Miranda and critic Jeremy McCarter, "Hamilton: The Revolution."