Tag: Supervoting Stock

On the Internet, “Partners” Don’t Hear You Scream: Spotify CEO Makes a $350M “Bundle” While Sticking Songwriters with an ESG “Bundle” of Crap

Here’s a quote for the ages:

MICHAEL BURRY

One of the hallmarks of mania is the rapid rise and complexity 
of the rates of fraud. And did you know they’re going up?

The Big Short, screenplay by Charles Randolph and Adam McKay,
based on the book by Michael Lewis

We have often said that if screwups were Easter eggs, Spotify CEO Daniel Ek would be the Easter bunny, hop hop hopping from one to the next. That’s is not consistent with his press agent’s pagan iconography, but it sure seems true to many people.

This week was no different. Mr. Ek cashed out hundreds of millions in Spotify stock while screwing songwriters hard with a lawless interpretation of the songwriter compulsory license. That interpretation is so far off the mark that he surely must know exactly what he is doing. It’s yet another manifestation of Spotify’s sudden obsession with finding profits after a decade of “get big fast.”

The Bunny’s Bundle

Let’s look under the hood at the part they don’t tell you much about. Mr. Ek evidently has what’s called a “10b5-1 agreement” in place with Spotify allowing staggered sales of incremental tranches of the common stock. Those sales have to be announced publicly which Spotify complied with (we think). And we’ll say it again for the hundredth time, stock is where the real money is at this stage of Spotify’s evolution, not revenue.

As a founder of Spotify, Mr. Ek holds founders shares plus whatever stock awards he has been granted by the board he controls through his supervoting stock that we’ve discussed with you many times. These 10b5-1 agreements are a common technique for insiders, especially founders, who hold at least 10% of the company’s shares, to cash out and get the real money through selling their stock.

A 10b5-1 agreement establishes predetermined trading instructions for company stock (usually a sale so not trading the shares) consistent with SEC rules under Section 10b5 of the Securities and Exchange Act of 1934 covering when the insider can sell. Why does this exist? The rule was established in 2000 to protect Silicon Valley insiders from insider trading lawsuits. Yep, you caught it–it’s yet another safe harbor for the special people. Presumably Mr. Ek’s personal agreement is similar if not identical to the safe harbor terms because that’s why the terms are there.

As MusicBusinessWorldWide reported, Mr. Ek recently sold $118.8 million in shares of Spotify at roughly the same time that he likely knew Spotify was planning to change the way his company paid songwriters on streaming mechanicals, or as it’s also known “material nonpublic information”.

As Tim Ingham notes in MusicBusinessWorldwide, Mr. Ek has had a few recent sales under his 10b5-1 agreement: “Across these four transactions (today’s included), Ek has cashed out approximately $340.5 million in Spotify shares since last summer.” Rough justice, but I would place a small wager that Ek has cashed out in personal wealth all or close to all of the money that Spotify has paid to songwriters (through their publishers) for the same period. In this sense, he is no different than the usual disproportionately compensated CEOs at say Google or Raytheon. 

Stock buybacks artificially increase share price. Now why might Spotify want to juice its own stock price?

Spotify Shoves a “Bundled” Rate on Songwriters

Spotify’s argument (that may have caused a jump in share price) claims that its recent audiobook offering made Spotify subscriptions into a “bundle” for purposes of the statutory mechanical rate. (While likely paying an undiscounted royalty to the books.) 

That would be the same bundled rate that was heavily negotiated in the 2021-22 “Phonorecords IV” proceeding at the Copyright Royalty Board at great expense to all concerned, not to mention torturing the Copyright Royalty Judges. These Phonorecords IV rates are in effect for five years, but the next negotiation for new rates is coming soon (called Phonorecords V or PR V for short). We’ll get to the royalty bundle but let’s talk about the cash bundle first.

You Didn’t Build That

Don’t get it wrong, we don’t begrudge Mr. Ek the opportunity to be a billionaire. We don’t at all. But we do begrudge him the opportunity to do it when the government is his “partner” so they can together put a boot on the necks of songwriters. This is how it is with statutory mechanical royalties; he benefits from various other safe harbors, has had his lobbyists rewrite Section 115 to avoid litigation in a potentially unconstitutional reach back safe harbor, and he hired the lawyer at the Copyright Office who largely wrote the rules that he’s currently bending. Yes, we do begrudge him that stuff.

And here’s the other effrontery. When Daniel Ek pulls down $340.5 million as a routine matter, we really don’t want to hear any poor mouthing about how Spotify cannot make a profit because of the royalty payments it makes to artists and songwriters. (Or these days, doesn’t make to some artists.) This is, again, why revenue share calculations are just the wrong way to look at the value conferred by featured and nonfeatured artists and songwriters on the Spotify juggernaut. That’s also the point Chris made in some detail in the paper he co-wrote with Professor Claudio Feijoo for WIPO that came up in Spain, Hungary, France, Uruguay and other countries.

Spotify pays a percentage of revenue on what is essentially a market share basis. Market share royalties allows the population of recordings to increase faster than the artificially suppressed revenue, while excluding songwriters from participating in the increases in market value reflected in the share price. That guarantees royalties will decline over time. Nothing new here, see the economist Thomas Malthus, workhouses and Charles Dickens‘ Oliver Twist.

The market share method forces songwriters to take a share of revenue from someone who purposely suppressed (and effectively subsidized) their subscription pricing for years and years and years. (See Robert Spencer’s Get Big Fast.). It would be a safe bet that the reason they subsidized the subscription price was to boost the share price by telling a growth story to Wall Street bankers (looking at you, Goldman Sachs) and retail traders because the subsidized subscription price increased subscribers.

Just a guess. 

The Royalty Bundle

Now about this bundled subscription issue. One of the fundamental points that gets missed in the statutory mechanical licensing scheme is the compulsory license itself. The fact that songwriters have a compulsory license forced on them for one of their primary sources of income is a HUGE concession. We think the music services like Spotify have lost perspective on just how good they’ve got it and how big a concession it is.

The government has forced songwriters to make this concession since 1909. That’s right–for over 100 years. A century.

A decision that seemed reasonable 100 years ago really doesn’t seem reasonable at all today in a networked world. So start there as opposed to the trope that streaming platforms are doing us a favor by paying us at all, Daniel Ek saved the music business, and all the other iconographic claptrap.

Has anyone seen them in the same room at the same time?

The problem with the Spotify move to bundled subscriptions is that it can happen in the middle of a rate period and at least on the surface has the look of a colorable argument to reduce royalty payments. If you asked songwriters what they thought the rule was, to the extent they had focused on it at all after being bombarded with self-congratulatory hoorah, they probably thought that the deal wasn’t “change rates without renegotiating or at least coming back and asking.”

And they wouldn’t be wrong about that, because it is reasonable to ask that any changes get run by your, you know, “partner.” Maybe that’s where it all goes wrong. Because it is probably a big mistake to think of these people as your “partner” if by “partner” you mean someone who treats you ethically and politely, reasonably and in good faith like a true fiduciary. 

They are not your partner. Don’t normalize that word.

A Compulsory License is a Rent Seeker’s Presidential Suite

But let’s also point out that what is happening with the bundle pricing is a prime example of the brittleness of the compulsory licensing system which is itself like a motel in the desolate and frozen Cyber Pass with a light blinking “Vacancy: Rent Seekers Wanted” surrounded by the bones of empires lost. Unlike the physical mechanical rate which is a fixed penny rate per transaction, the streaming mechanical is a cross between a Rube Goldberg machine and a self-licking ice cream cone. 

The Spotify debacle is just the kind of IED that was bound to explode eventually when you have this level of complexity camouflaging traps for the unwary written into law. And the “written into law” part is what makes the compulsory license process so insidious. When the roadside bomb goes off, it doesn’t just hit the uparmored people before the Copyright Royalty Board–it creams everyone.

David and friends tried to make this point to the Copyright Royalty Judges in Phonorecords IV. They were not confused by the royalty calculations–they understood them all too well. They were worried about fraud hiding in the calculations the same way Michael Burry was worried about fraud in The Big Short. Except there’s no default swaps for songwriters like Burry used to deal with fraud in subprime mortgage bonds. 

Here’s how the Judges responded to David, you decide if they are condescending or if the songwriters were prescient knowing what we know now:

While some songwriters or copyright owners may be confused by the royalties or statements of account, the price discriminatory structure and the associated levels of rates in settlement do not appear gratuitous, but rather designed, after negotiations, to establish a structure that may expand the revenues and royalties to the benefit of copyright owners and music services alike, while also protecting copyright owners from potential revenue diminution. This approach and the resulting rate setting formula is not unreasonable. Indeed, when the market itself is complex, it is unsurprising that the regulatory provisions would resemble the complex terms in a commercial agreement negotiated in such a setting.

PR IV Final Rule at 80452 https://app.crb.gov/document/download/27410

It must be said that there never has been a “commercial agreement negotiated in such a setting” that wasn’t constrained by the compulsory license. It’s unclear what the Judges even mean. But if what the Judges mean is that the compulsory license approximates what would happen in a free market where the songwriters ran free and good men didn’t die like dogs, the compulsory license is nothing like a free market deal.

If the Judges are going to allow services to change their business model in midstream but essentially keep their music offering the same while offloading the cost of their audiobook royalties onto songwriters through a discount in the statutory rate, then there should be some downside protection. Better yet, they should have to come back and renegotiate or songwriters should get another bite at the apple.

Unfortunately, there are neither, which almost guarantees another acrimonious, scorched earth lawyer fest in PR V coming soon to a charnel house near you.

Eject, Eject!

This is really disappointing because it was so avoidable if for no other reason. It’s a great time for someone…ahem…to step forward and head off the foreseeable collision on the billable time highway. The Judges surely know that the rate calculation is a farce

But the Judges are dealing with people negotiating the statutory license who have made too much money negotiating it to ever give it up willingly although a donnybrook is brewing. This inevitable dust up means other work will suffer at the CRB. It must be said in fairness that the Judges seem to find it hard enough to get to the work they’ve committed to according to a recent SoundExchange filing in a different case (SDARS III remand from 2020).  

That’s not uncharitable–I’m merely noting that when dozens of lawyers in the mechanical royalty proceedings engage in what many of us feel are absurd discovery excesses. When there are stupid lawyer tricks at the CRB, they are–frankly–distracting the Judges from doing their job by making them focus on, well, bollocks. We’ll come back to this issue in future. The dozens and hundreds of lawyers putting children through college at the CRB–need to take a breath and realize that judicial resources at the CRB are a zero sum game. This behavior isn’t fair to the Judges and it’s definitely not fair to the real parties in interest–the songwriters.

Tell the Horse to Open Wider

A compulsory license in stagflationary times is an incredibly valuable gift, and when you not only look the gift horse in the mouth but ask that it open wide so you can check the molars, don’t be surprised if one day it kicks you.

A version of this post first appeared on MusicTech.Solutions

by Trichordist Editor

Spotify’s ESG fail: Governance

This is the third of a three part post on Spotify’s failure to qualify as an “ESG” stock. 

[This is an extension of Spotify’s ESG Fail: Environment and Spotify’s ESG Fail: Social. “ESG” is a Wall Street acronym often attributed to Larry Finkat Blackrock that designates a company as suitable for socially conscious investing based on its “Environmental, Social and Governance” business practices. See the Upright Net Impact data model on Spotify’s sustainability score. As of this writing, the last update of Spotify’s Net Impact score was before the Neil Young scandal.]

Spotify has one big governance problem that permeates its governance like a putrid miasma in the abattoir: “Dual-class stock” sometimes referred to as “supervoting” stock. If you’ve never heard the term, buckle up. I wrote an extensive post on this subject for the New York Daily News that you may find interesting.

Dual class stock allows the holders of those shares–invariably the founders of the public company when it was a private company–to control all votes and control all board seats. Frequently this is accomplished by giving the founders a special class of stock that provides 10 votes for every share or something along those lines. The intention is to give the founders dead hand control over their startup in a kind of corporate reproductive right so that no one can interfere with their vision as envoys of innovation sent by the Gods of the Transhuman Singularity. You know, because technology.

Google was one of the first Silicon Valley startups to adopt this capitalization structure and it is consistent with the Silicon Valley venture capital investor belief in infitilism and the Peter Pan syndrome so that the little children may guide us. The problem is that supervoting stock is forever, well after the founders are bald and porky despite their at-home beach volleyball courts and warmed bidets.

Spotify, Facebook and Google each have a problem with “dual class” stock capitalizations.  Because regulators allow these companies to operate with this structure favoring insiders, the already concentrated streaming music industry is largely controlled by Daniel Ek, Sergey Brin, Larry Page and Mark Zuckerberg.  (While Amazon and Apple lack the dual class stock structure, Jeff Bezos has an outsized influence over both streaming and physical carriers.  Apple’s influence is far more muted given their refusal to implement payola-driven algorithmic enterprise playlist placement for selection and rotation of music and their concentration on music playback hardware.)

The voting power of Ek, Brin, Page and Zuckerberg in their respective companies makes shareholder votes candidates for the least suspenseful events in commercial history.  However, based on market share, Spotify essentially controls the music streaming business.  Let’s consider some of the  implications for competition of this disfavored capitalization technique.

Commissioner Robert Jackson, formerly of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission, summed up the problem:

“[D]ual class” voting typically involves capitalization structures that contain two or more classes of shares—one of which has significantly more voting power than the other. That’s distinct from the more common single-class structure, which gives shareholders equal equity and voting power. In a dual-class structure, public shareholders receive shares with one vote per share, while insiders receive shares that empower them with multiple votes. And some firms [Snap, Inc. and Google Class B shares] have recently issued shares that give ordinary public investors no vote at all.

For most of the modern history of American equity markets, the New York Stock Exchange did not list companies with dual-class voting. That’s because the Exchange’s commitment to corporate democracy and accountability dates back to before the Great Depression. But in the midst of the takeover battles of the 1980s, corporate insiders “who saw their firms as being vulnerable to takeovers began lobbying [the exchanges] to liberalize their rules on shareholder voting rights.”  Facing pressure from corporate management and fellow exchanges, the NYSE reversed course, and today permits firms to go public with structures that were once prohibited.

Spotify is the dominant streaming firm and the voting power of Spotify stockholders is concentrated in two men:  Daniel Ek and Martin Lorentzon.  Transitively, those two men literally control the music streaming sector through their voting shares, are extending their horizontal reach into the rapidly consolidating podcasting business and aspire soon to enter the audiobooks vertical.  Where do they get the money is a question on every artists lips after hearing the Spotify poormouthing and seeing their royalty statements.

The effects of that control may be subtle; for example, Spotify engages in multi-billion dollar stock buybacks and debt offerings, but has yet makes ever more spectacular losses while refusing to exercise pricing power.  

So yes, Spotify is starting to look like the kind of Potemkin Village that investment bankers love because they see oodles of the one thing that matters: Fees.

On the political side, let’s see what the company’s campaign contributions tell us:

Spotify has also made a habit out of hiring away government regulators like Regan Smith, the former General Counsel and Associate Register of the US Copyright Office who joined Spotify as head of US public policy (a euphemism for bag person) after drafting all of the regulations for the Mechanical Licensing Collective;

Whether this is enough to trip Spotify up on the abuse of political contributions I don’t know, but the revolving door part certainly does call into question Spotify’s ethics.

It does seem that these are the kinds of facts that should be taken into account when determining Spotify’s ESG score. At this point, it looks like Spotify is an ESG fail–which may require divesting by some of the over 600 mutual funds that hold shares.

by thetrichordist

Guest Post: The Royal Scam: Content ID and Google’s Massive Profits From Piracy and Crime

By Chris Castle

Google and YouTube have managed to create a scam that has gone both largely undetected and largely unpunished for a decade–illicit activity that can be both seen and quantified through the sale of advertising and is also unseen and unquantified through data scraping in the background.  (I leave it to you to speculate which is more valuable.)

It is rare for Google to get caught like they were with the massive multi-agency sting operation and grand jury investigation by the then-U.S. Attorney for Rhode Island that led to the $500,000,000 punishment and non prosecution agreement in 2011.  (Which led to a very expensive shareholder lawsuit against Google’s board of directors and bizarre settlement.  We’ll come back to the board of directors issue here.)

If you had to put your finger on a moment in time that Google began buying Washington in earnest, it was this sting.  It was also the closest that Larry Page ever came to going to prison with all its earthly delights.  That evidently got his attention.

Google has also faced down civil RICO claims for racketeering through the theft of intellectual property.  The last reported RICO case against Google offers a checklist for how to make a civil RICO claim stick against the Leviathan of Mountain View.  I like the YouTube case a lot better than the inventor’s case they beat back.

But most of the time Google just keeps the money when they get caught.  A prime example is YouTube’s standard practice of refusing to pay a revenue share retroactively after you catch them infringing your work using Content ID.  That unjust enrichment creates an incentive to sharply limit the number of artists or songwriters who get access to Content ID in the first place.  I think this is why Google massively overreacted to Mississippi Attorney General Jim Hood’s Civil Investigate Demand and subpoena that they never did respond to.  Maybe they were covering up the same crimes that got them prosecuted in Rhode Island and they did not want to go through that again.

And therein lies the rub and our topic today:  If Google never gets caught, Google quietly keeps all the money.   For our world, this happens because they’ve artificially limited the tools that independent creators can use to catch the massive infringements.  And even if the majors and a handful of independents get the Content ID tool, YouTube still has the incentive to make Content ID just good enough that they can say it works, but not so good as to actually stop the infringement before it starts.

The majors using Content ID have to employ still other means to catch them, sometimes manually, at great cost.  In fact, you have to wonder if net-net the total costs of administering the YouTube deals actually exceeds the minimum guarantee and royalty payable.  Those tools are simply beyond the reach of the creators, even the few who YouTube grants access to Content ID.

And of course, any user of Content ID (big or small) has to sign up to the take-it or leave-it shakedown deal that limits what you can do about it when you catch them.  Which is just another form of the protection rackets.

This criminal enterprise comes in two flavors (at least):  Ad sales for illegal products (like the drugs, counterfeit tickets and the like), and selling legitimate advertising around content that Google knows or should have known was illegal (like YouTube’s monetization of infringing works).  And, of course, Google scrapes data in the background on all these criminal activities to its great–and secret–profit.

As we saw with the drugs case, Google knew exactly what it was doing, and I’m not willing to believe their rudderless ad sales teams don’t also know exactly what they are doing (remember Google’s ad sales team gave credit terms to infringers, and the drugs sting operation also shows that they brainstormed many criminal dodges to deceive Google’s own best practices team).

What little evidence we can lay hands on in the open source demonstrates that Google must know very well that it engages in criminal behavior–why else was Eric Schmidt advised by then-counsel David Drummond to refuse to answer Senator John Cornyn’s questions regarding the drugs case when Schmidt testified before a 2011 Senate Antitrust Subcommittee hearing?  (Also known as “taking the Fifth.”)  After engaging in a weak attempt at misdirection.  Did they think this question wouldn’t come up so didn’t prepare for it?  I doubt that very much.  (If they cooked up this story without the lawyers, this might well have been a conspiracy.  Attorneys take note:  Crime/fraud execution?)

schmidt senate
Eric Schmidt Takes the Fifth on drugs case to Senator John Cornyn: ” I have been advised — unfortunately, I’m not allowed to go into any of the details and I apologize, Senator”

Now that the U.S. Senate is investigating the effectiveness of the safe harbors under DMCA, this would be a good time for the Department of Justice to investigate Google’s business practices and potential criminal activities.  Smells like RICO to me.

As independent composer (and MTP guest poster) Kerry Muzzey highlighted in his recent testimony before the United States Senate regarding Content ID:

My name is Kerry Muzzey, and I am a film and television and modern classical composer.

I am one of the very few independent artists who has access to YouTube’s Content ID system; and most of my experience with notice and takedown has been on YouTube. Content ID has become a core piece of my licensing business: it is the x-ray that reveals the theft of my music to me. This is why I am also nervous about speaking out today – because I fear retaliation by YouTube and Google. I am concerned that they may take Content ID away from me for raising my concerns publicly. The technology behind Content ID is nothing short of brilliant, and I don’t want to lose access to it.

Growing up, my mom always said: “You’re not allowed to complain unless you’re gonna do something about it.” Senators, my being here today is my “doing something about it.” Today, I have the most unique opportunity I have ever had in my lifetime. I have the opportunity to ask Members of my United States Senate to fix a broken law.

Let’s also not forget the way Google is governed (as is Facebook, Spotify and many others).   Larry Page, Sergei Brin and Eric Schmidt hold a special class of  “supervoting” shares, what SEC Commissioner Robert Jackson has called “corporate royalty”.

These insiders get 10 votes for every one share they own of a special class of supervoting stock.  This means that the insiders control over 60% of the voting stock and win all shareholder votes—including votes to appoint the board of directors.

Supervoting shares give insiders absolute control of Google–one of the most successful public companies in commercial history.  Because they control every aspect of Google’s operations, Google truly is their “alter ego.”  One purpose of Google’s lobbying spend must be to keep the corporate royalty out of prison.

These supervoting Google Class B shares are not available to the public.  The public can buy two classes of stock:  GOOGL shares are Class A (one vote per share) and GOOG shares are Class C (no votes per share).  (GOOG shares were issued in a dividend to GOOGL holders.)  GOOGL shares typically trade slightly higher than GOOG which may demonstrate that the market has priced in a lack of meaningful voting rights in GOOGL.

It should not be surprising that Google shareholder meetings are a one-way communication event. The supervoting corporate royalty tell the other shareholders how things are going to be and vote down any move by GOOGL holders to change the status quo—like converting supervoting shares into one share one vote.  As Floyd Norris reported in his New York Times “Economix” column, “Rarely has a shareholder vote been less suspenseful.”

So Google’s profit from evil is not an accident.  If Congress wants to fix the DMCA, let’s fix all of it.  And as U.S. Attorney Peter Neronha discovered ten years ago, that requires a grand jury.

 

by thetrichordist