The legal battle between OpenAI and DeepSeek has ignited heated debate about artificial intelligence innovation, intellectual property rights, and competitive dynamics in the AI industry. OpenAI–the undisputed industry leader in generative AI backed by billions in funding–alleges that DeepSeek violated its terms of service by leveraging a technique known as “distillation” to build a competitive product.

Distillation is a method in AI development that enables a smaller “student” model to replicate or approximate the performance of a larger “teacher” model by learning from its outputs. Due to the method’s ability to lower computational costs, distillation has become a widely regarded technique for creating AI systems more efficiently. However, OpenAI claims that DeepSeek’s approach—reportedly querying OpenAI’s model at scale and using its responses as training data to improve DeepSeek’s own AI—crossed a line by extracting OpenAI’s proprietary data without permission.

If OpenAI’s allegations lead to a legal battle, the outcome could have a substantial impact on the future of the generative AI industry. This case highlights a recurring dilemma in the tech industry: how to balance the right innovators have to protect their technological advancements against the broader public interest in ensuring open access to transformative technologies. A notable example of this was the legal dispute between Oracle and Google over the use of Java APIs in the Android operating system. Oracle sued Google, alleging that functional software elements (such as APIs) are subject to copyright protection; thus, the replication of Java APIs on Android constituted copyright infringement. In 2021, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of Google, determining that Google’s use of the Java APIs was a lawful fair use. The Court emphasized that certain forms of software replication can drive innovation rather than hinder it, outweighing Oracle’s desire to control its copyrighted software.Had Oracle prevailed, developers might have faced significant restrictions on API usage, potentially stifling interoperability and innovation within software ecosystems.

A similar dynamic is playing out in the AI industry. OpenAI’s massive financial and research investments, including a recent $6.6 billion funding round, have driven the development of advanced models like GPT-4.5. A ruling in favor of OpenAI would strengthen the legal protection that companies with AI models have, preventing other companies from using distillation. This would provide firms with greater legal assurance that their technological advances cannot be easily reproduced, encouraging further investment in AI research. Companies with large-scale computational infrastructure, which would benefit from a more predictable and enforceable intellectual property landscape, would likely be incentivized to expand their AI initiatives.

Additionally, such a ruling could pave the way for industry-wide licensing frameworks, where AI firms must obtain explicit permissions or pay for access to use large proprietary models rather than extracting their outputs through distillation. This shift could lead to a more standardized business model in AI, allowing companies to commercialize access to their models while ensuring that smaller firms can still legally participate through licensing agreements. As a result, AI developers could receive financial compensation for their innovations, creating a sustainable ecosystem where AI research is funded without fear of imitation.

Conversely, if distillation is considered a legitimate practice, it would make the development of advanced AI accessible to a wider range of companies. This would drastically change the dynamics of the AI industry. Currently, building state-of-the-art AI models requires enormous computational resources, access to vast datasets, and significant financial backing. These barriers make it nearly impossible for smaller startups or independent researchers to compete with tech giants like OpenAI, Google DeepMind, and Anthropic, which have billions of dollars in funding and access to specialized hardware such as high-end GPUs and TPUs.

By allowing distillation as a legal practice, smaller AI companies could train efficient models using knowledge extracted from larger, more advanced AI systems without having to replicate the expensive training process from scratch. Instead of needing to collect and process massive datasets—often a key advantage held by large companies—smaller firms could leverage the distilled knowledge from publicly available models or even commercial APIs to develop lighter, more cost-effective AI systems tailored to specific use cases.

For example, a healthcare AI startup that lacks the resources to train a large-scale medical language model from the ground up could apply distillation techniques to a commercially available model to develop a specialized AI assistant for doctors. Similarly, a legal tech firm might use distillation to fine-tune an AI system focused exclusively on contract analysis, making legal AI tools more affordable and widely available to law firms and in-house legal teams.

Distillation could thus encourage AI adoption in industries that large tech companies typically overlook. While OpenAI and Google DeepMind focus on broad, general-purpose AI systems, smaller companies could use distilled models to create highly specialized AI solutions for niche markets such as agriculture, local governance, small business automation, and environmental monitoring. These applications might not be financially viable for large tech firms to pursue but could thrive in a more open AI ecosystem where smaller players have access to efficient AI development techniques.

This increased accessibility would create a more competitive AI landscape, as more companies could afford to develop their own models without relying on a handful of dominant firms for licensing access. Instead of AI advancements being controlled by a few large corporations, startups and independent developers would have more opportunities to innovate, leading to faster technological progress and more diverse AI applications across different industries.

Ultimately, if distillation remains a widely accepted practice, it would democratize AI innovation, making it more feasible for smaller players to enter the industry and compete with established giants. This shift would not only increase competition and drive down costs for AI-powered products and services, it would also lead to a more diverse and inclusive AI landscape. Innovation would not solely be driven by a few massive corporations but rather by a global network of researchers, startups, and independent developers working on AI applications that address a wide range of real-world challenges.

The ongoing debate surrounding the potential legal dispute between OpenAI and DeepSeek encapsulates a pivotal moment in the evolution of artificial intelligence. This situation compels stakeholders to weigh the benefits of democratizing technology against the necessity of protecting significant investments and maintaining industry standards. As discussions progress, the implications are likely to ripple through the AI industry, potentially reshaping the landscape of innovation, market dynamics, and regulatory policies for years to come.

In recent years, corporate boardroom diversity efforts have gained momentum. This shift is fueled by growing recognition of the benefits that diverse perspectives bring to decision-making and corporate performance. However, there have been significant setbacks for the diversity of corporate boards in the US in recent months, strengthened by President Trump’s Executive Order terminating government DEI programs. For instance, Goldman Sachs’ decision to reverse its initial public offering (IPO) diversity mandate and the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals’ decision to invalidate Nasdaq’s Board Diversity Rules both point to a potential change in corporate governance. Although these occurrences underscore the growing legal and commercial challenges to mandatory diversity programs, one key question remains: Will firms continue their efforts through voluntary means and market-driven incentives, or is the era of board diversity regulations really coming to an end?

The Fifth Circuit’s Decision on Nasdaq’s Board Diversity Rules

Originally approved by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) in 2021, the Nasdaq Board Diversity Rules required that listed businesses report the diversity makeup of their boards and include at least one female member and one member from an underrepresented minority or the LGBTQ+ community. Companies that failed to meet these criteria were mandated to explain their reasoning.

The Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, however, recently declared these regulations as unconstitutional. Although Nasdaq operates as a self-regulatory organization, the court ruled that it exceeded its authority by imposing rules that effectively demanded businesses to comply with requirements similar to affirmative action.  The court also questioned the SEC’s approval of the rule, noting that the agency failed to demonstrate how the standards aligned with the Securities Exchange Act’s objectives, such as protecting investors, preventing market manipulation, and promoting competition. As a result, the Fifth Circuit ruled that the SEC exceeded its regulatory authority under the Act.

The court concluded that requiring disclosure of gender and race diversity on boards did not directly safeguard investors, and the comply-or-explain mandate had little to do with the main objectives of the Act. Through this action, the court applied the “major questions doctrine,” which holds that federal agencies must have clear congressional authorization for significant regulatory actions. Therefore, it ruled that the SEC lacked the explicit authority from Congress to regulate corporate board structures, particularly in politically sensitive areas. In other words, the court reasoned that the SEC had overreached its customary regulatory purview, which is centered on market manipulation and proxy voting, by approving Nasdaq’s Diversity Rules, infringing on issues that are under the purview of other authorities.

Goldman Sachs’ Reversal of IPO Diversity Requirements

By declaring in 2020 that it would not underwrite IPOs for businesses without at least one diverse board member, Goldman Sachs established itself as a pioneer in corporate diversity initiatives. The company’s dedication to enhancing corporate governance was demonstrated in 2021 when it increased the need to at least two diverse directors.

However, Goldman Sachs recently retracted this requirement in response to growing political and legal scrutiny. The firm cited client feedback and changing market conditions as justifications for dropping the mandate. The reversal implies that financial institutions are being more cautious about diversity standards out of concern about potential legal challenges or investor reaction against required measures.

The Road Ahead for Board Diversity

Institutional investors and shareholder activism will play a crucial role in shaping the future of board diversity. Beyond financial institutions withdrawing their diversity mandates, major institutional investors are now revising their board diversity policies. BlackRock’s 2025 policy removes numerical diversity targets, eliminating its prior disclosure-based proxy vote guidelines. However, it retains the option to take voting action against S&P 500 boards that deviate significantly from market norms. Vanguard has similarly softened its stance, replacing explicit gender, race, and ethnicity requirements with a broader emphasis on “cognitive diversity” and skill. However, it maintains the right to vote against nominating committee chairs if diversity-related disclosures are inadequate. State Street has taken the most significant step back by entirely removing numerical diversity targets and no longer voting against boards that fail to meet prior diversity standards. Instead, it now emphasizes that nominating committees should oversee board composition. In comparison, the global company BNP Paribas is strengthening its diversity policies for 2025, raising its gender diversity target to 40% female directors. The Fifth Circuit’s ruling, Goldman Sachs’ revised policy, and shifting institutional investor behaviors raise major questions about the future of board diversity. Although regulatory mandates for board diversity might be diminishing, the need for diverse leadership is expected to persist. The Fifth Circuit’s decision could create a precedent that dissuades exchanges or regulators from enforcing diversity mandates, causing companies to be reluctant in establishing formal diversity goals because of legal concerns.

However, other firms might see these changes as a chance to adopt a more proactive and voluntary strategy. Companies can advance their diversity objectives while staying within legal and regulatory boundaries by fostering a culture of belonging, setting internal diversity targets, and implementing inclusive hiring practices. Moreover, companies can gain an advantage in attracting elite talent, fostering customer loyalty, and enhancing their brand by committing genuinely to diversity and inclusion.

These challenges for board diversity mandates do not necessarily indicate the end of corporate diversity initiatives. Market-driven pressures, institutional investor activity, and voluntary corporate initiatives can sustain the momentum for diversity and inclusion, even though legal and regulatory restraints may limit the use of quotas and requirements. The attitude of businesses, investors, and stakeholders to value diversity as a moral and business necessity will ultimately determine the future of board diversity.

As the corporate world navigates this evolving challenge, one thing is clear: the pursuit of diversity and inclusion is far from over. The objective of making boardrooms more inclusive and equitable is still as crucial as ever, whether it is achieved through volunteer efforts or legal requirements. In light of tackling these challenges, the question is not whether board diversity is ending but rather how businesses can innovate and adapt to sustain diversity.

Under Rule 14a-8 of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934, shareholders are entitled to submit proposals for company action for inclusion in a company’s proxy statement to be voted on at annual shareholder meetings. In theory, shareholder proposals empower investors to shape corporate action by putting plans shareholders wish to see the company implement to a vote. While not always binding, if the board approves a proposal and it has enough shareholder support, shareholders can put significant pressure on the board to follow the proposal’s advice. Recent years saw a trend in many proposals focused on environmental, social, and governance (ESG) concerns, often conflicting with corporate management’s preferences.

On February 12, 2025, the Division of Corporation Finance of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) rescinded Staff Legal Bulletin No. 14L (SLB 14L) and issued Staff Legal Bulletin No. 14M (SLB 14M), making it easier for public companies to exclude ESG shareholder proposals from being voted on at annual meetings. SLB 14M rolls back the policy introduced by SLB 14L in 2021, which made it “markedly easier for shareholders to put certain environmental and social proposals to vote” by adopting an expansive view of shareholders’ ability to raise concerns about a company’s social policies. This decision reverts SEC policy to the stance it held during President Trump’s first term, tracking a notable shift in how companies and investors engage in corporate governance: redistributing discretion from shareholders back to the boardroom.

Rule 14a-8 and the SEC No-Action Letter

Companies rely on Rule 14a-8(i)—particularly, Rule 14a-8(i)(5) (the “economic relevance” exclusion) and Rule 14a-8(i)(7) (the “ordinary business” exclusion)—to exclude a proposal from a shareholder vote. If a company wishes to exclude a proposal, it may request SEC staff to comment on whether the rules permit the omission through a “no-action letter.” If granted, the company can exclude the proposal without fear of enforcement action.

SLB 14L’s broad interpretation of these exclusions enabled shareholders to put to vote proposals that normally would be subject to exclusion. SLB 14M re-narrows the scope and application of these exclusions, thus limiting the power of shareholder proposals.

Rule 14a-8(i)(5): The “Economic Relevance” Exclusion

Rule 14a-8(i)(5) allows for the exclusion of proposals that (1) relate to operations which make up less than 5% of the company’s total assets, profit, and gross sales at the end of the last fiscal year and (2) are not otherwise significantly related to the company’s core business. Under SBL 14L’s broad interpretation, proposals that did not meet the economic threshold requirements (and thus did not comply with the rule’s economic concern standard) but raised “broad social or ethical concerns” could not be excluded. Staff would not issue no-action letters for such proposals—regardless of how small the operations were—thus prioritizing corporate responsibility above concerns of shareholder micromanagement. SLB 14M disregards the importance of social and ethical issues “in the abstract,” instead analyzing the economic relevance of the proposal to the company’s business on a case-by-case basis. This would make it effectively impossible for shareholders to address ESG concerns in their proposals unless those concerns significantly affect key aspects of the company’s core business.

Rule 14a-8(i)(7): The “Ordinary Business” Exclusion

Under Rule 14a-8(i)(7), a company may exclude proposals that deal with the company’s “ordinary business operations” on the basis that certain day-to-day tasks should be decided by management rather than being subject to direct shareholder oversight. SLB 14L’s expansive interpretation of “significant social policy” meant that companies couldn’t exclude shareholder proposals that related to day-to-day business matters so long as the proposal also raised broad social concerns—regardless of whether there was a nexus between the policy issue and the company. As a result, “during the 2022 proxy season after SLB 14L’s issuance, proposals concerning environmental topics increased over 50%.” SLB 14M reverts to a pre-SLB 14L “company-specific approach,” with the staff now allowing exclusions when a policy issue is not significant to a specific company. This limits shareholders’ ability to raise ESG proposals that bear on managerial discretion regarding business operations.

Limiting Shareholder Micromanagement

Lastly, SLB 14M also reinstates restrictions on shareholder micromanagement by allowing companies to exclude proposals that (1) seek intricate detail or specific timeframes for implementing complex policies and (2) are highly prescriptive, supplanting management discretion in decision-making. For instance, the bulletin explicitly states that proposals to reach net-zero emissions by a given year are now excludable as micromanagement because they impose timelines and limit management’s flexibility.

Effects on Industry

The Commission’s move follows a sharp decline in investor support for ESG-related shareholder proposals, having dropped from 21% in 2021 (the year SLB 14L was issued) to just 3% by 2023. In 2024, only four (1.4%) out of 279 assessed proposals received majority support. The trend marks a growing resistance to ESG-driven shareholder activism. Considering that six of the largest banks in the U.S.—Citigroup, Bank of America, Morgan Stanley, Wells Fargo and Goldman Sachs—already withdrew from the UN-sponsored net-zero emissions banking alliance weeks before the SEC’s announcement, the new bulletin likely marks the proverbial nail in the coffin for an era of investor-driven environmental impact.

The release of SLB 14M just as the current proxy season gains momentum makes it even harder to hold the world’s largest companies accountable. Many shareholder proposals this year focus on ESG issues that investors believe have a material impact on a company’s financial value. However, a significant number of these proposals will likely be excluded from proxy ballots because SLB 14M was issued too late for investors to adjust their proposals to fit its stricter standards. SEC Commissioner Caroline A. Crenshaw is concerned that the timing of this guidance disproportionately benefits corporations, allowing them to revise their no-action requests to exclude proposals while leaving investors without a similar opportunity to adapt.

The full effect of these changes is unlikely to be seen until next proxy season, but for now, SLB 14M marks a shift toward greater corporate control over shareholder proposals. This will likely lead to a decline in ESG-related initiatives and perhaps a shift toward alternative shareholder advocacy strategies like direct engagement or even litigation. Future regulatory or political changes could reshape these rules again, but as it stands, shareholder activism faces a more restrictive landscape.

What do trailer parks, hospitals, prison services, and accounting firms have in common? Private equity (PE) has acquired a stake in all of them—and it’s not stopping there. From 2023 to 2024, PE firms closed $565 billion in announced deals, a 25% increase in value. With so much capital in play, PE is ever on the lookout for its next conquest—and now it has set its sights on a domain long considered off-limits: law firms. Historically, regulatory and ethical barriers have kept non-lawyer investors out of the legal industry. Yet if there’s one thing we know about PE, it’s that where big money stands behind a closed door, they will find a way to pry it open.

PE potentially views law firms as a way to “print money.” As David Marcus writes in The Allure of Law Firms for Private Equity, “Recent investments by [PE] in accounting firms suggest PE would find attractive targets in the legal profession if more state bar associations allow nonlawyers to own stakes in law firms.” Indeed, over the past few years, PE sponsors have acquired major stakes in several top accounting firms, including one deal that reached a valuation of $2 billion. Law firms, like these accounting firms, have “reliable cash flows and low capital expenditures​​,” making them prime candidates for PE. However, one thing stands in PE’s way—the American Bar Association (ABA).

The ABA, whose legal standards most states follow, created Rule 5.4—formally titled “Professional Independence of a Lawyer”—to ensure that client interests, not outside investors, dictate legal decisions. By prohibiting fee-sharing and partnerships with non-lawyers, the rule aims to maintain broad ethical standards and foster public confidence that legal advice remains free from business imperatives. It also protects client confidentiality by preventing outside stakeholders from accessing sensitive information. The core idea is that without external investors, lawyers are bound solely to provide high-quality, conflict-free representation—not to maximize returns for shareholders.

Yet critics of Rule 5.4 argue it’s a double-edged sword: While it guards against undue profit-driven influence, it also prevents law firms from tapping outside capital. Scholars at Stanford Law point out that the United States, despite hosting one of the largest pools of lawyers in the world, still ranks abysmally—109th out of 128 countries—in access to affordable civil legal services. They see Rule 5.4 as a prime suspect, explaining that the lack of external funding leads to limited investment in various areas, such as new technology solutions, streamlined business structures, and wider consumer outreach. Tom Lenfestey of the Law Practice Exchange agrees that sponsor-backed funding could modernize firms and improve services for underrepresented clients. Meanwhile, PE firms see themselves as the ones capable of bringing these efficiencies to the legal field, but only if Rule 5.4 is reformed.

Advocates for reform can now point to the last few years for evidence that Rule 5.4 is unnecessary, with states like Arizona and Utah successfully bypassing it. In 2020, Utah launched a regulatory sandbox, allowing non-lawyers to hold ownership stakes under close judicial oversight. The program has proven successful enough that the Utah Supreme Court extended it through 2027. Arizona went even further by eliminating its ban on non-lawyer ownership of law firms. Under its Alternative Business Structure (ABS) framework, approved entities must meet stringent requirements such as licensing, malpractice insurance, and background checks on owners to ensure professional standards remain intact. So far, over 100 ABS licenses have been granted, reflecting Arizona’s enthusiasm for this new model. Proponents say such reforms could help expand access to legal services and lead to lower legal fees through expanded legal access. For now, though, Rule 5.4 still holds in most U.S. jurisdictions, keeping PE’s capital, expertise, and ambitions largely at arm’s length.

At first glance, loosening Rule 5.4 seems promising: Let outside investors pour in capital, achieve economies of scale, and serve the communities we’ve historically neglected. But if PE’s track record in healthcare and accounting is any guide, there’s also an alarming side. A 2023 study has even shown that Medicare patients at PE-owned hospitals suffered a 25% increase in complications, and many accountants lament losing their independence. Why would lawyers be immune? If non-lawyer owners offer large buyouts to senior partners, firms could soon be hardwired to prioritize maximizing returns over their duty of loyalty to clients.

Yet a total meltdown isn’t guaranteed. Arizona and Utah have tested regulatory sandboxes and Alternative Business Structures, and so far, there has been no wave of ethical collapses. Moreover, not every PE fund is incentivized to focus only on maximizing profits, like in dentistry, where PE firms have preferred generating steady returns and cultivating a mutually beneficial relationship where they help manage the nonclinical aspects of the practice.

That’s the tension: Rule 5.4 has shielded client interests from outside meddling for decades. However, critics argue that it stifles innovation, pushing America’s legal costs so high that it’s 109th worldwide in affordability. So, do we commence reforms despite the risk of replaying a corporate exploitation script?

It all depends on the details of any reform. Tear down Rule 5.4 wholesale, and sure, we could see cynical cash grabs, gutted ethics, and vulnerable clients left behind. But it’s naive to pretend existing ethics rules can fix the dearth of legal access, especially when in 2023 alone, of the 55% of Californians who experienced a civil legal problem, only 30% received legal assistance. If Arizona and Utah’s experiments hold up—if real guardrails keep investors from hollowing out the soul of legal practice—maybe we can harness new capital and provide the American public with better access to legal services.

In short, Rule 5.4 isn’t just an “obstacle,” nor is its reform a “silver bullet.” It’s a decades-old ethical foundation that deserves scrutiny and shouldn’t be dismantled without care. Whether the drumbeat of expanding legal access is just a Trojan horse for corporate profit or a legitimate reform that could lift more boats ultimately depends on us: how we write the regulations, how we hold investors accountable, and how we preserve the independence and integrity of law as a profession.

Artificial intelligence (“AI”) is transforming every aspect of our lives, and the biotechnology field is no exception. It drives significant advancements across various areas, such as drug discovery and development, genetic research, personalized medicine, and medical diagnostics. These innovations rely on vast amounts of large complex datasets, often called big data, both as input for AI models and as a key component of the research and development process. However, as AI continues to rise, some market players are concerned about the implications of data control and the potential impact of AI on the future of the field.

Major concerns surround big data and data monopolization from an antitrust and competition perspective, even outside the biotechnology field. While big data drives innovation and enhances consumer offerings, the Federal Trade Commission (“FTC”) has highlighted that big data can be used to discriminate against and target minorities, potentially excluding them from certain services and products. Additionally, restricted access to valuable data, particularly when it is costly or difficult to generate, can create entry barriers that limit competition and innovation. This phenomenon is often termed data monopolization: dominant players in a market controlling vast amounts of data, determining its use, and, in doing so, sustaining their market dominance.

However, determining whether data control is an entry barrier and thus anti-competitive is complex, as much of the information contained in these datasets is not unique; it can be obtained through alternative means. For example, the FTC and state attorneys general sued Facebook in 2020 for alleged monopolization. Facebook was accused of limiting data access to non-competing developers, deterring the rise of rival platforms. However, the court dismissed these claims under Trinko’s no-duty-to-deal rule, which holds that antitrust laws do not require a firm to engage with its competitors. The court reasoned that forcing Facebook to share its data could risk its incentives for innovation, place the judiciary in the role of a regulator, and potentially lead to collusion with its rivals.

This precedent may shape how antitrust authorities will assess the implications of big data and data monopolization, eventually limit data sharing and impact regulatory efforts. From an AI perspective, it could also hinder smaller companies from training their models and entering the market.

Furthermore, in the biotechnology sector, data monopolization might become an even more hotly-contested issue than it currently is in the larger tech industry. Many companies conduct trials and collect personal health data, which can be challenging to generate and typically requires obtaining individual consent before any use. These challenges are particularly salient for companies with AI tools that collect and process large volumes of specialized data, such as genetic information, which is crucial for developing new medicines and medical products. Smaller companies often lack the resources to access such unique data, potentially halting their research and preventing them from entering the market. In this context, biotech startups may argue that the uniqueness of this data creates a significant barrier to competition. However, courts and regulators in the future may have to consider the types of health data collected, which data should be eligible for sharing, and whether large companies should be required to share years of experiments and proprietary data that may constitute intellectual property.

Another antitrust concern is AI-exclusive licensing. Generally, FTC permits exclusive licenses, a standard market practice where an intellectual property owner grants exclusive usage rights to a licensee. However, concerns arise when a dominant manufacturer leverages such agreements to make it more difficult for smaller competitors to compete effectively. Exclusive contracts can also limit access to lower-cost suppliers, compelling competitors to source from more expensive alternatives, which may influence market conditions.

In the context of AI, exclusive licensing can raise several issues regarding market competition. First, as AI relies heavily on data, companies that control essential datasets may choose which entities to contract with and license the data to, potentially limiting access for competitors. Second, a dominant company may grant exclusive rights to use its AI technology to another major player, also excluding smaller competitors by forming selective partnerships. Third, an established company might suppress competition by bundling its AI products with proprietary software, favoring itself and preferred partners while disadvantaging new entrants.

For example, the European Commission is investigating whether Google’s exclusivity agreements with device manufacturers, such as Samsung, to pre-install its AI model could limit competition by giving its AI model a default advantage, as users are more likely to stick with the pre-installed option rather than explore alternatives. While restricting such exclusivity agreements could potentially hinder innovation by limiting direct channels for major players’ products, it could also lead to an AI market dominated by a few giants, potentially sidelining smaller competitors.

Again, these concerns are particularly exacerbated given the highly competitive nature of the biotechnology sector, which only a few major pharmaceutical companies dominate. Large pharmaceutical firms, even before the advent of AI, have often collaborated with other industry leaders to bundle their products together, leveraging their extensive resources and diverse offerings. With the growing importance of data and AI, these firms may secure exclusive data licenses and access to critical data from hospitals and other health providers, which could disadvantage smaller startups that lack the same level of access. AI models in the biotechnology sector could be crucial for identifying drug candidates, personalizing treatments, and predicting clinical outcomes. Exclusive AI licensing could restrict access to these advancements, limiting competition and creating significant barriers for emerging biotechnology startups.

As AI continues to influence the biotechnology sector,  its implications could be far-reaching. big data and AI raise legitimate antitrust concerns, particularly in an environment where major pharmaceutical companies have significant advantages over smaller startups in terms of resources and products. These larger companies could leverage their position to maintain market power. While innovation continues to progress, antitrust authorities must closely monitor the industry and intervene when barriers to competition arise, given the sector’s crucial impact on public health and well-being. As these concerns increase, the U.S. enacted the 21st Century Cures Act to limit information blocking in healthcare. Though it does not mandate proactive data sharing, its role may grow as antitrust enforcement evolves.

Established companies have been involved in politics and regulatory matters since the 1800s. For example, energy companies lobby for energy policies, while car manufacturers resist higher fuel efficiency standards. These companies’ involvement in politics has been mostly reactive, meaning they have been lobbying to protect themselves from competition. However, since the mid-2000s, a new type of political activity has emerged, mainly among technology startups, termed regulatory entrepreneurship, which refers to when a business seeks to change or create laws as part of its business plan.

Tech startups “often pursue a line of business that has a legal issue at its core—a significant uncertainty regarding how the law will apply to a main part of the business operations, a need for new regulations in order for products to be feasible or profitable, or a legal restriction that prevents the long-term operation of the business.” Essentially, to survive or thrive, these companies need to make changes in current regulations. Regulatory entrepreneurs use different techniques, such as traditional lobbying, like putting political operatives on the board of directors or hiring professional lobbyists, but the most innovative yet highly controversial is the maxim that it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission. “This means that it is better to enter markets and start providing services to the public— legally or otherwise—than to seek approval from regulators.” In other words, tech companies take advantage of legal gray areas, real or imagined, and ask for forgiveness when their base grows too big to ban and mobilize users as political powers.

The most prominent example and, in fact, the pioneer of this maxim is Uber. Uber was reported to have received and ignored a cease-and-desist demand from transit regulators in San Francisco and many other cities around the globe. Despite police crackdowns, Uber repeatedly paid drivers’ fines and continued to advertise on radio stations until it got big enough quickly enough that the political price became too high for any elected official who tried to pull Uber to the curb. Other examples of such strategies are DraftKings and the Ultimate Fighting Championship (“UFC”), which provides a good illustration for non-tech companies.

Just as tech entrepreneurs have brought benefits to society, regulatory entrepreneurs have also set their marks. The benefits of regulatory entrepreneurship include the potential to combat existing but broken laws and disrupt the status quo. Regulatory entrepreneurs can also lower the cost of the applicable services, such as Uber and Airbnb, but also reduce the cost of civic engagement for their users by creating an environment where they are more involved in pushing for change. However, as the notion that tech can do no bad is fading away, some scholars argue that in a democracy, regulatory entrepreneurship is a presumptively unethical business strategy because any such regulatory changes should be made through the democratic political process. Entrepreneurs have a moral duty to obey all laws that apply to them, even those that business leaders think are unfair or inefficient.

Therefore, regulatory entrepreneurs must adhere to basic moral and ethical notions of democracy: transparency, accountability, and social responsibility. Ethical regulatory entrepreneurship demands transparency in dealing with regulatory bodies, customers, and other stakeholders, and regulatory entrepreneurs must also consider the more significant social implications of their actions. This includes actively contributing to society’s betterment through innovational endeavors and considering more than just profit-seeking. One example of ethical regulatory entrepreneurship where economic and societal benefits intersect is seen in the micro-mobility industry, like scooters and e-bikes by Uber and Lyft. Smaller startups have emerged that specialize in the maintenance of such micro-mobility data. These startups benefit economically from the public availability of such data.

These smaller startups, along with cities such as Los Angeles and San Francisco, argue that companies like Uber that collect data must publicly share the data they gather as they contain information relating to public safety and public health. Cities and some smaller startups have combined their regulatory entrepreneurship powers and formed a non-profit organization called the Open Mobility Foundation (OMF). The OMF advocates for the development of open-source standards and tools where all stockholders can share data to improve public safety on the roads. The OMF has a platform where it publishes its mission and all of the steps it has taken so far; therefore, it is transparent and brings accountability to its regulatory efforts. A concern with the public availability of such data is users’ privacy, for which OMF also provides privacy solutions along with its recommendations for change.

Entrepreneurs are innovators and benefit society by creating new services that often improve everyday life; nonetheless, such innovations are not always without risk. This is the same when entrepreneurs are involved in regulatory entrepreneurship. They must act with transparency, accountability, and social responsibility. By doing so, they can not only mitigate potential risks to the democratic framework but also earn the trust and support of their customers and stakeholders, which is crucial for the long-term success of their ventures.

California’s 2024 ballot not only elected our nation’s next president, 53 members of Congress, 100 state legislators and thousands of local officials–it also featured a statewide test of the state’s latest salvo in its battle against corporate-backed ballot measures: changing the ballot itself.

California lawmakers have pursued several reforms in response to a number of corporate-backed ballot measures that have undermined, stalled and even blocked progressive legislation. Their latest effort is changing the design of ballots to include more information about who is supporting and opposing ballot measures. Early results of the Legislature’s reforms appear to be mixed.

This modification continues California’s long and storied history of direct democracy. California voters amended the state constitution in 1911 to create the referendum and initiative in the state, processes that allow voters to overturn laws and directly place proposed legislation on the ballot respectively. Since then, Californians have collected signatures for over 1,600 statewide ballot measures and qualified over 300 initiatives.

The California ballot referendum and initiative processes were originally envisioned as a way for everyday Californians to check an unresponsive legislature potentially beholden to the railroad and corporate interests that dominated state politics at the time. Corporations, however, have increasingly leveraged these processes to stall or even block bills aimed at regulating industry. Corporations have paid firms to gather signatures to qualify ballot measures, made significant contributions to ballot measures’ campaign committees and even paid for campaign advertisements and mailers in support of ballot measures. The Network previously discussed Proposition 22, one of the most expensive ballot measures in California history that exempted app-based gig companies like Uber and Lyft from AB 5 and allowed them to continue classifying their drivers as independent contractors.

Even corporate-backed ballot measures that are ultimately unsuccessful can impact companies’ bottom line. In 2021 and 2022, for example, tobacco companies sponsored–and ultimately qualified–Proposition 31, a referendum seeking to overturn SB 793, a 2020 state law banning certain flavored tobacco products. California voters, however, decisively affirmed the state law when the referendum appeared before voters in the 2022 General Election. Nevertheless, the companies’ $20 million investment to qualify Proposition 31 successfully delayed the implementation of SB 793 until after the general election, allowing their flavored tobacco products to remain on store shelves for an additional two years. Similarly, California oil companies successfully delayed the implementation of a 2022 state law banning new oil wells near residential areas for two years by qualifying a referendum. The companies later withdrew the measure just before the Secretary of State finalized the 2024 General Election ballot, and the law has since taken effect as the companies challenge it in court.

California legislators have increasingly taken aim at corporate-backed ballot measures, targeting multiple stages of the initiative process. The most visible change to California voters is on their ballots.

AB 1416 adjusted the layout on the ballot for each statewide proposition to include 15-word lists of businesses, non-profits and individuals supporting and opposing each measure. AB 1416 proponents believe printing a list of supporters and opponents on the ballot will increase transparency about who is supporting ballot measures, and provide voters with that information “right on the ballot itself.” Proponents argue the information will help voters make informed choices about whether to support a measure, similar to how listing candidates’ party affiliation and occupation designations on the ballot help voters decide which candidates to support.

AB 1416 also extends the requirement for printing lists of supporters and opponents on the ballot to local ballot measures but permits counties, which administer local elections, to opt out. Some Bay Area counties, including Marin, Sonoma, Napa and Contra Costa, have opted out of AB 1416’s local ballot measure requirements for at least the 2024 election cycle.

It remains to be seen, however, if political actors will try to leverage this new, state-mandated space on the ballot to influence voters. Journalists have documented how candidates have long used their occupation-designation space on the ballot to try to influence voters. The California Senate Election and Constitutional Amendments Committee’s analysis of AB 1416 identified the “potential for chicanery,” noting that while there are protections against listing sham organizations on the ballot, political actors could still “game” AB 1416’s rules to confuse voters.

AB 1416 represents only part of the Legislature’s efforts to crack down on corporate-backed ballot measures. SB 1360 took aim at paid-signature gathering practices commonly used by corporations to qualify ballot measures, requiring that a ballot measure committee’s top three funders be listed on each page of petitions used to gather signatures to qualify the measure and modifying the campaign finance disclosure requirements for campaign ads. AB 421, which took effect last year, attempted to build on AB 1416 by further clarifying language on the ballot for referenda to ask voters to “overturn” or “keep” state law; earlier versions of the bill also targeted the signature gathering process by requiring ballot measure signature-gatherers to disclose if they are being paid for gathering signatures and strengthen penalties for signature-gatherers who violate state disclosure requirements.

It’s unclear whether California’s latest reforms have increased voter information or changed how voters respond to potentially misleading corporate-backed ballot measures as the legislature intended. In last year’s election, California voters narrowly approved Proposition 34, a measure heavily funded by the California Apartment Association and other real estate interest groups. The measure enacted new restrictions opponents claim are aimed effectively at a single healthcare provider, the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, requiring them to spend 98 percent of revenue from a federal drug discount program on direct patient care. The AIDS Healthcare Foundation, which derives most of its revenue from the federal drug discount program, has spent over $150 million to sponsor multiple statewide ballot measures to allow local governments to expand rent control. Despite the state’s new reforms, the real-estate industry-backed Proposition 34 received voter approval to prohibit the state’s leading rent control advocate from using its primary source of revenue for political activity.

The California legislature has reconvened for its 2025-2026 legislative session. Time will tell what additional reforms to the state’s ballot measure process, if any, will emerge from this session and affect the way businesses engage with direct democracy in California.

The American Bar Association (ABA) recently highlighted the many ways that artificial intelligence (AI) can benefit law firms. From streamlining processes to automating tasks, AI is transforming the legal industry at a rapid pace. Currently, there are estimates suggesting that AI could automate up to 44% of legal work, which is helping drive this change. However, this increased reliance on AI comes with significant risks, including a sharp rise in cyberattacks targeting law firms—particularly Big Law firms, increasingly costing them millions in class action suits. While AI is often talked about, firms’ use of third-party technology providers also plays a significant role in these cyberattacks.

In the first five months of 2024, 21 law firms have already filed data breach reports with the attorney general’s office. In comparison, only 28 such reports were filed throughout all of 2023. As AI becomes more integrated into Big Law firms—slowly but steadily—its dual use is emerging. While AI tools are improving efficiency and reducing costs, they are also being leveraged by cybercriminals to carry out more sophisticated attacks. This trend will likely accelerate in the coming years, with both the number and scope of cyberattacks on law firms expected to rise.

Big Law firms are especially vulnerable to cyber threats due to the sensitive nature of the data they handle. These firms often possess highly confidential information, including patents, intellectual property, and personal or corporate secrets related to major companies and high-profile deals. Even industry giants like Kirkland & Ellis, Proskauer Rose, and Allen & Overy have been targeted by data breaches and ransomware attacks, highlighting that no firm is immune from these attacks. Surveys on cybersecurity breaches show that around 50 percent of firms surveyed either experience security breaches or not knowing whether they have. There is a clear correlation between firm size and “not knowing” of breaches with smaller firms with 2–9 employees reporting rates of around 5%, while larger firms with 500 or more employees experience breach rates of up to 60%. The survey also indicated a significant increase in client requests for security requirements and guidelines of larger firms.

The rise of remote work has further exacerbated cybersecurity risks for law firms. With many legal professionals now working from home, often on unsecured networks, the potential for cyber incidents has significantly increased. Public Wi-Fi networks, which are frequently used by remote workers, are particularly vulnerable to hacking and pose a serious concern for law firms trying to protect client data. Remote work also makes it more difficult to enforce cybersecurity policies and monitor compliance. Without a controlled office environment, employees may not follow best practices for securing their devices or data, making firms more susceptible to attacks. Two of the most common attacks on firms consist of: (1) phishing (malicious emails or messages designed to trick employees into providing sensitive information or granting access to secure systems) and (2) ransomware (a type of malware that encrypts a firm’s data, with cybercriminals demanding a ransom for its release). There are also other forms of attacks, which include exploitation of vulnerabilities in third-party software used by firms.

Given the increasing reliance on AI and the growing risks posed by remote work, it is crucial for law firm leaders to prioritize cybersecurity. Implementing comprehensive security protocols, training employees to recognize phishing attempts, and investing in AI-driven cybersecurity solutions will be essential to mitigating these risks. Firms must also ensure that remote work policies account for secure network usage and compliance with cybersecurity standards.

As AI continues to reshape the legal industry, the threat landscape will only become more complex. Law firms—especially Big Law—must act now to protect their sensitive data, maintain client trust, and prevent the major class actions lawsuits that have been increasing due to these attacks.

In recent years, technology giants like Apple, Google, and Amazon have heavily relied on foreign talent to fill crucial roles in their companies. This dependence is largely facilitated by employment visas for foreign workers, such as the H-1B and L-1 visas. As of 2019, immigrants made up almost one-fourth, or 23.1 percent, of all STEM workers in the entire country.  Amazon hired the most new H-1B workers out of any employer in 2021 and 6,400 new H-1B workers in 2022 and hired the most new H-1B workers out of any employer in 2021. Google and Meta (formerly Facebook) have contributed to this demand, collectively hiring over 3,100 new H-1B workers in 2022. Meta has even declared itself an “H-1B dependent” firm in government filings because more than 15% of Meta’s total U.S. workforce consists of H-1B workers. This reliance on international talent demonstrates the necessity of immigration for innovation and competitiveness, but also introduces significant legal and ethical challenges that companies must navigate carefully.

A flurry of high-profile lawsuits in recent years illustrate the delicate balance Big Tech companies must strike between leveraging international expertise and adhering to stringent immigration laws. One notable case is Apple’s settlement with the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) over discriminatory recruitment practices related to PERM (Permanent Labor Certification) positions. The PERM process requires employers to demonstrate that no qualified U.S. workers are available for a job before sponsoring a foreign worker for permanent residency. This involves conducting a labor market test, obtaining a prevailing wage determination, and documenting genuine recruitment efforts. Recent enforcement actions serve as evidence of how Big Tech companies have struggled or failed to comply with these requirements. For instance, in 2023, Apple settled with the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) for $25 million over allegations that its PERM recruitment practices disadvantaged U.S. citizens by not posting jobs on its external website, requiring paper applications, and disregarding electronic applications.

Similarly, in 2021, Facebook (now Meta) settled with the DOJ for $14.25 million over allegations that it unfairly favored temporary visa workers for PERM positions over U.S. workers. These cases highlight how Big Tech’s corporate immigration practices can run afoul of U.S. labor laws, particularly those designed to protect domestic workers from unfair competition. Furthermore, these practices led to fewer applications from U.S. workers, violating 8 U.S.C. § 1324b, which prohibits discrimination based on citizenship or national origin.

To fully grasp the legal challenges surrounding Big Tech’s corporate immigration practices, it’s essential to understand key statutes like 8 U.S.C. § 1324b, which address unfair immigration-related employment practices. This statute prohibits employers from discriminating against individuals based on their national origin or citizenship status during hiring or recruitment processes. Additionally, 8 U.S.C. § 1153 outlines the allocation of immigrant visas through employment-based preferences. The PERM process falls under this statute’s framework, requiring employers to test the labor market before sponsoring foreign workers for green cards. Failure to comply with these legal requirements can result in significant penalties, as seen in both the Apple and Facebook cases.

During 2022 and early 2023, major tech firms hired over 34,000 new H-1B workers while laying off at least 85,000 employees. For instance, together, Google and Meta laid off 33,000 employees, almost 11 times the number of new H-1B workers they hired in 2022. This discrepancy raises questions about whether these visas are genuinely being used to fill gaps in skilled labor, or if companies are using them as a cost-cutting measure by hiring cheaper foreign labor instead of domestic workers.

In addition to laying off foreign workers, some tech companies have slowed down or frozen their PERM processes due to fears of lawsuits like those faced by Apple and Facebook.  After Apple’s legal troubles with PERM-related discrimination claims, many companies have become wary of continuing with this process, since they are unable to meet the labor certification requirements. These requirements mandate employers to demonstrate that they cannot find qualified U.S. workers for the position and that hiring a foreign worker will not adversely affect wages or working conditions of similarly employed U.S. workers. Employers must conduct a labor market test, obtain a prevailing wage determination, and provide detailed documentation proving they have made genuine efforts to recruit American workers before sponsoring a foreign employee for permanent residency.

Instead, some companies have turned to alternative immigration pathways like the National Interest Waiver (NIW), which allows companies to avoid direct involvement in potentially risky sponsorship processes and bypass the labor certification requirements, while still accessing global talent. This shift towards NIW is evidenced by the dramatic increase in STEM-related NIW receipts, which surged from 6,500 cases in 2018 to 20,950 cases in 2023, representing a 222.3% increase.

Critics argue that part of the reason Big Tech relies so heavily on foreign workers is due to shortcomings in the U.S. educational system. There is a shortage of STEM graduates from American universities who can meet the demands of these high-tech roles. In contrast, countries like China produce large numbers of highly educated professionals who are disciplined and hardworking, qualities that tech giants value highly. Without access to global talent through programs like H-1B and L-1 visas, many fear that American tech companies would struggle to maintain their competitive edge in research and development. However, public skepticism about immigration have been out in full force, using this as a talking point for deeply misguided commentary and analysis that roughly translates to “immigrants are taking all our jobs.” However, EPI has mentioned several reasons for why this misguided commentary is false. One reason  is that the unemployment rate for U.S.-born workers averaged 3.6% in 2023, the lowest rate on record. Suggesting that foreign talent complements rather than competes with domestic workers by filling roles in high-demand fields like STEM.

As we look toward future changes in immigration policy under Donald Trump’s administration, it’s important to consider how past policies might inform what’s ahead. Trump has historically favored stricter immigration controls, which could further complicate visa processes for both employers and employees in tech. If immigration policies become more restrictive again, it could exacerbate existing challenges for foreign workers trying to navigate layoffs while on temporary visas.

In conclusion, while international talent is indispensable for innovation and competitiveness in Big Tech, current corporate immigration practices present significant legal and ethical challenges, both for companies and their employees. Therefore, companies must find a balanced approach that protects the interests of international talent while adhering to U.S. labor laws designed to safeguard domestic employment opportunities.

After years of inertia, the Department of Justice (DOJ) is taking an aggressive stance towards Big Tech, signaling a resurgence of antitrust enforcement with the potential to reshape the world as we know it. Regulators in the United States and the European Union are addressing Big Tech’s dominance, long perceived as a well-kept secret. This article focuses on the antitrust lawsuit against Google’s ad-tech practices, highlighting the debate between structure and conduct in antitrust.

The DOJ’s efforts began with a landmark ruling in August 2024, finding Google guilty of maintaining an illegal monopoly in the web search market, by, among others, paying to be the default search engine on major devices. The DOJ’s action marked a shift from years of permissive policies toward vertical mergers (conduct-based approach), signaling a focus on addressing anti-competitive effects proactively rather than reacting to them after they occur (structure-based view). As a result, Google’s breakup is now looming over the company and the tech industry in general, more likely as a matter of how, than when. Moreover, the EU is pursuing its own case on Google’s ad-tech monopoly, with growing calls for a “once-in-a-generation” opportunity to order Google’s break-up.

On September 9, the DOJ targeted Google’s monopolization of the ad-tech market contrary to Sections 1 and 2 of the Sherman Act. At the heart of this case is the critical role of ads in online ecosystems: publishers sell ad space to generate revenue, while advertisers buy it to reach consumers. Transactions between advertisers and publishers rely on ad exchange mechanisms (i.e. an auctioneer), which match publishers and advertisers through automated, high-speed auctions. The advertiser with the highest bid usually wins, and their winning ad is displayed on the publisher’s website.

Why is this a problem? The DOJ alleges that Google has monopolized the ad-tech market by controlling advertisers, publishers and the ad exchange itself – the central node where these transactions occur. This control has effectively “locked-in” both advertisers and publishers, stifling competition.

Publishers elect to engage in direct sales (one-on-one negotiations) or indirect sales (through a publisher ad server) with advertisers. For indirect sales, publishers can choose only one publisher ad server, as switching between many is extremely costly. On the other side of the transaction, most small advertisers are represented by Google through Google Ads (an ad network), which possesses a large set of unique data. Publishers and advertisers can only be matched through an ad exchange, which earns a revenue share only on winning bids. Even though advertisers pay publishers, the ad tech (the ad network and the ad exchange) retains a portion of the sum. Large publishers with the resources to multi-home (i.e. use multiple ad exchanges to secure favorable transactions) drive competition by forcing ad exchanges to compete both for selection by publishers and against one another to provide the most favorable transactions and best matches.

Google’s market dominance stems largely from its 2006 acquisition of DoubleClick, which gave it control of both the dominant publisher ad server (DFP) and ad exchange (AdX). Essentially, by assuming all the roles – buyer (Google Ads), seller (DFP) and auctioneer (AdX) – the control remains in Google’s own hands. In 2011, Google also acquired AdMeld, a yield management firm enabling publishers to multi-home across ad exchanges, and used it to enforce exclusivity with DFP and eliminate competition.

Practically, publishers are now compelled to single-home with one publisher ad server. DFP is the only viable means to have access to Google Ad’s demand, which is almost exclusively on Google’s ad exchange. Therefore, a potential competitor to Google’s publisher ad server (DFP) would need to enter both the publisher ad server and the ad exchange market at scale to compete. Finally, the practice of dynamic allocation enables publishers to multi-home. However, Google’s actions, including the implementation of Unified Pricing Rules, interfere with dynamic allocation by preventing publishers from freely distributing their inventory to multiple exchanges. Specifically, Unified Pricing Rules force publishers to offer the same pricing terms across all ad exchanges, making it difficult for them to benefit from using multiple ad exchanges.

These vertical acquisitions (among others), have allowed Google to implement anti-competitive measures, including restricting demand to AdX, offering AdX advantages, and manipulating bids to favor its platform. The DOJ claims that these actions have led to a series of anti-competitive effects, including (1) higher prices and margins for Google by channeling transactions through its ad-tech; (2) reduced competition due to scale and diminished multi-homing; (3) limited choice and control for publishers and advertisers; (4) information asymmetry; and (5) stifled innovation.

The pending judgment reflects a broader policy shift under the Biden administration towards neo-Brandeisian antitrust, prioritizing prevention of monopolies over post-hoc regulation. In particular, Google has been engaging in post-merger anti-competitive behavior, which was facilitated through its pre-merger actions. This raises critical questions: why were the mergers that led Google to dominate the ad-tech market allowed in the first place? And what different standards would disallow them today?

This can be explained by understanding the underlying context. The mergers and acquisitions that Google engaged in occurred during a time when the neo-liberal view prevailed in antitrust policy, which favored ex-post intervention (conduct-based approach) over ex-ante regulation (structure-based approach). This led to a lenient stance, permitting horizontal acquisitions and more limited vertical ones. Conduct-based approaches generally focus on what companies do rather than their size or market share, being concerned about the breaking up of companies because of alleged harms on innovation and efficiency. Structure-based advocates argue that conduct remedies are reactive and insufficient to address entrenched dominance. They believe that structural issues (such as market concentration, barriers to entry, mergers & acquisitions) inherently lead to anti-competitive practices and harm long-term competition.

The main question therefore turns to whether we should intervene before potential monopolies form or catch them later. Are we more concerned with under or over-enforcement of antitrust rules? False negatives or false positives? In that regard, ex-post remedies are much more painful, given that a break-up of Google is going to affect all market actors in a much more significant way, including users. Taking action upfront while taking into account the constant need for innovation – despite the risk of being overly inclusive – could alleviate the need for continuous and usually failed monitoring of Google’s conduct and prevent its current alleged monopoly position. The DOJ should be getting at promoting competition before monopolistic power takes root.

I’d like to thank Professor Talha Syed for the last point in the legal analysis of this article, as well as his overall help and support. I’d also like to thank Zara Tayebjee for her enthusiasm, support, and help.