Tag: governance

The DLC Nails it on Conditional Redesignation of the MLC

I’m certainly not a fan of really any of the companies that comprise the Digital Licensee Coordinator’s membership (DLC). In fact, you probably couldn’t find a more complete rogues’ gallery of most of my least favorite Big Tech companies—but when they’re right, they’re right.

Redesignation is the Copyright Office’s periodic check on whether the Mechanical Licensing Collective still meets the Music Modernization Act’s criteria to run the §115 blanket license. The Office can renew, or replace the designation to protect songwriters and licensees. In my view and the view of many others including the Digital Licensee Coordinator, The Office could also condition any renewal (or “redesignation”) of the MLC on improving its lackluster performance and postpone the renewal until the MLC improves, if ever. That’s just common sense.

The DLC’s most recent “ex parte” letter answers years of songwriter and publisher requests that the MLC has brushed aside—better matching, transparency, governance, timeliness, metrics, and accountability. Crucially, it confronts repeated, credible criticisms that the MLC’s investment of unmatched royalties is ultra vires (outside the law): the MMA authorizes collection and distribution, not portfoio-management schemes of a fund that is likely in excess of $1.2 billion of the songwriters’ money.

The Digital Licensee Coordinator urges the Copyright Office to conditionally redesignate the Mechanical Licensing Collective (MLC) and pair that step with stronger oversight. This approach reflects common sense and Congressional intent: if redesignation weren’t meant to be used as leverage to correct course, Congress wouldn’t have created a periodic redesignation process at all—it would have handed the MLC lifetime appointments. They didn’t, as one would expect. The MLC isn’t the Harry Fox Agency after all. Conditional redesignation is therefore the appropriate tool to ensure the MLC performs its uniquely powerful statutory role responsibly, transparently, and in the interest of all rightsholders. 

The DLC stresses how the MLC’s powers—collecting and distributing over a billion dollars annually, enforcing the blanket license, and imposing costs on licensees—demand robust governance and accountability distinct from what’s expected of the DLC itself. With that asymmetry in mind, the Office should focus the redesignation decision on whether the MLC needs additional safeguards to fulfill Congress’s vision for §115. Debating whether those safeguards arrive as explicit conditions on redesignation or as stand-alone regulations is a matter of form, not substance; either pathway legitimately implements the MMA and squarely fits within the Office’s authority. 

To “tee up” the record, the DLC attaches a helpful and representative Exhibit cataloging songwriter, independent publisher, and creator-group critiques across six themes: unmatched “black box” royalties; data/matching problems; governance and conflicts; transparency and accountability gaps; operational and technical delays; and the investment of unclaimed royalties. That comment supports conditional redesignation backed by measurable performance metrics(e.g., black-box reduction targets, matching accuracy, timeliness, dispute resolution KPIs) or by new, targeted regulations—and, if needed, both. 

Finally, immediate triage should begin with abandoning the contested investment policy for unclaimed royalties—criticized by many stakeholders as ultra vires (which by the way, eliminates any indemnity protection in the MMA)—and liquidating the portfolio so cash flows to the people Congress intended to benefit: songwriters. Conditional redesignation gives the Office the oversight handle to make those corrections now, align incentives going forward, and ensure the MLC’s stewardship is limited to the scale of its statutory power. 

It also must be said that if the MLC doesn’t clean up its act, what comes next may not be so genteel. Conditional redesignation may look awfully good in the rear view mirror.

Digital-Licensing-Coordinator-to-USCO-2-Sept-22-2025Download

When Viceroy David Sacks Writes the Tariffs: How One VC Could Weaponize U.S. Trade Against the EU

David Sacks is a “Special Government Employee”, Silicon Valley insider and a PayPal mafioso who has become one of the most influential “unofficial” architects of AI policy under the Trump administration. No confirmation hearings, no formal role—but direct access to power.

He:
– Hosts influential political podcasts with Musk and Thiel-aligned narratives.
– Coordinates behind closed doors with elite AI companies who are now PRC-style “national champions” (OpenAI, Anthropic, Palantir).
– Has reportedly played a central role in shaping the AI Executive Orders and industrial strategy driving billions in public infrastructure to favored firms.

Under 18 U.S.C. § 202(a), a Special Government Employee is:

  • Temporarily retained to perform limited government functions,
  • For no more than 130 days per year (which for Sacks ends either April 14 or May 30, 2025), unless reappointed in a different role,
  • Typically serves in an advisory or consultative role, or
  • Without holding actual decision-making or operational authority over federal programs or agencies.

SGEs are used to avoid conflict-of-interest entanglements for outside experts while still tapping their expertise for advisory purposes. They are not supposed to wield sweeping executive power or effectively run a government program. Yeah, right.

And like a good little Silicon Valley weasel, Sacks supposedly is alternating between his DC side hustle and his VC office to stay under 130 days. This is a dumbass reading of the statute which says “‘Special Government employee’ means… any officer or employee…retained, designated, appointed, or employed…to perform…temporary duties… for not more than 130 days during any period of 365 consecutive days.” That’s not the same as “worked” 130 days on the time card punch. But oh well.

David Sacks has already exceeded the legal boundaries of his appointment as a Special Government Employee (SGE) both in time served but also by directing the implementation of a sweeping, whole-of-government AI policy, including authoring executive orders, issuing binding directives to federal agencies, and coordinating interagency enforcement strategies—actions that plainly constitute executive authority reserved for duly appointed officers under the Appointments Clause. As an SGE, Sacks is authorized only to provide temporary, nonbinding advice, not to exercise operational control or policy-setting discretion across the federal government. Accordingly, any executive actions taken at his direction or based on his advisement are constitutionally infirm as the unlawful product of an individual acting without valid authority, and must be deemed void as “fruit of the poisonous tree.”

Of course, one of the states that the Trump AI Executive Orders will collide with almost immediately is the European Union and its EU AI Act. Were they 51st? No that’s Canada. 52nd? Ah, right that’s Greenland. Must be 53rd.

How Could David Sacks Weaponize Trade Policy to Help His Constituents in Silicon Valley?

Here’s the playbook:

Engineer Executive Orders

Through his demonstrated access to Trump and senior White House officials, Sacks could promote executive orders under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA) or Section 301 of the Trade Act, aimed at punishing countries (like EU members) for “unfair restrictions” on U.S. AI exports or operations.

Something like this: “The European Union’s AI Act constitutes a discriminatory and protectionist measure targeting American AI innovation, and materially threatens U.S. national security and technological leadership.” I got your moratorium right here.

Leverage the USTR as a Blunt Instrument

The Office of the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) can initiate investigations under Section 301 without needing new laws. All it takes is political will—and a nudge from someone like Viceroy Sacks—to argue that the EU’s AI Act discriminates against U.S. firms. See Canada’s “Tech Tax”. Gee, I wonder if Viceroy Sacks had anything to do with that one.

Redefine “National Security”

Sacks and his allies can exploit the Trump administration’s loose definition of “national security” claiming that restricting U.S. AI firms in Europe endangers critical defense and intelligence capabilities.

Smear Campaigns and Influence Operations

Sacks could launch more public campaigns against the EU like his attacks on the AI diffusion rule. According to the BBC, “Mr. Sacks cited the alienation of allies as one of his key arguments against the AI diffusion plan”. That’s a nice ally you got there, be a shame if something happened to it.

After all, the EU AI Act does what Sacks despises like protects artists and consumers, restricts deployment of high-risk AI systems (like facial recognition and social scoring), requires documentation of training data (which exposes copyright violations), and applies extraterritorially (meaning U.S. firms must comply even at home).

And don’t forget, Viceroy Sacks actually was given a portfolio that at least indirectly includes the National Security Council, so he can use the NATO connection to put a fine edge on his “industrial patriotism” just as war looms over Europe.

When Policy Becomes Personal

In a healthy democracy, trade retaliation should be guided by evidence, public interest, and formal process.

But under the current setup, someone like David Sacks can short-circuit the system—turning a private grievance into a national trade war. He’s already done it to consumers, wrongful death claims and copyright, why not join war lords like Eric Schmidt and really jack with people? Like give deduplication a whole new meaning.

When one man’s ideology becomes national policy, it’s not just bad governance.

It’s a broligarchy in real time.