The Day the Music Died: Streaming’s Legal and Financial Implications on the Music Industry

By: Max Minniti

INTRODUCTION

For almost a century, record companies shaped the music industry. Label executives and armies of attorneys working for record companies engineered a system to capitalize on artists’ work, giving artists various benefits in return. Critics of this model described this system as a machine designed to extort emerging talent by forcing them to choose between signing their rights away with unfavorable contracts or facing the alternative: permanent obscurity. There is no disputing that this model allowed record companies to harvest a significant portion of income from sales of signed artists’ vinyl, CDs, and MP3 files. 

Then, in July 2011, Spotify, a subscription-based music streaming service, launched for consumers in the United States. Rather than paying $1.99 for each MP3 file or almost $15 for the average CD, consumers had the option to pay a flat monthly rate of $11 for unlimited streams of any song they wanted on the website or accompanying application. Consumers had never before seen this kind of flexibility and value, and Spotify spread like wildfire in the market with listeners and industry professionals alike. Artists could now directly upload their music to the platform, reaching a global audience without the need for a traditional record deal. The introduction of this affordable, dark-horse technology seemingly disrupted the music industry forever—artists would never again have to rely on the muscle of a record label to put food on the table. Suddenly, it seemed everything had changed. But did it really? 

While Spotify changed how people consume music and pushed non-streaming competitors, such as Apple and Amazon, to launch similar services, this note contends that the proliferation of streaming services ultimately failed to shift the tide in favor of artists’ independence from labels. To better understand this failure and how record deals have become more challenging for artists since streaming, the symbiotic (some say parasitic, although there are unmistakable benefits for both parties involved) relationship between the artist and the record company must first be examined.

OH BY THE WAY, WHICH ONE’S PINK? WHY ARTISTS SIGN RECORD DEALS

It’s no secret that life as an independent artist is difficult. Unsigned artists make tremendous sacrifices to get signed, such as moving to expensive coastal cities to be closer to “the scene,” with many just barely supporting themselves through other avenues of low-paying work to continue their calling. Many are inspired by the countless success stories of artists getting discovered by label A&R just because they happen to be in the right place at the right time. For example, on August 5, 1972, Aerosmith had already been playing relentlessly in the northeast for two years when their manager caught wind that Clive Davis, then president of Columbia Records, would be at Max’s Kansas City, a star-studded Gramercy nightclub, that evening. The problem? Davis was there for another act, and Aerosmith wasn’t even scheduled to perform. The band pooled money together out of their own pockets to pay to be the opening act, and as they say, the rest is history. But for every success story, there are countless stories of destitute artists crashing on acquaintances’ couches, settling for dead-end jobs, or finally giving up on their dreams after failing to be discovered.

Musicians struggle to expose themselves to record companies because when they sign contracts with labels, they receive various benefits such as financial support, promotion, professional guidance, production assistance, touring support, and widespread distribution. Specifically, labels provide financial support to signed artists in the form of royalty advances, which help them cover the costs of recording, marketing, and other expenses associated with creating and promoting music. Labels also typically have experienced consultants who can provide guidance in various aspects of the music industry, including assistance with song selection, production, marketing strategies, and overall career development. Moreover, record companies have established relationships with key players in the music industry, including experienced producers, distributors, promoters, and potential collaborators—DJ Khaled, for example, made a career of connecting artists. Record labels can secure radio airplay and organize performance opportunities for artists. Labels also have established distribution channels that enable artists to reach a wider audience, including physical distribution to stores as well as digital distribution on streaming platforms, ensuring that the music is accessible to a broad audience. All of these factors can synergize with each other to give artists a global presence by reaching an international market and a global fanbase.

In exchange for providing the aforementioned benefits, record labels take nearly everything from the artist. To recoup the advance given to the artist, the label takes most of the artist’s earnings from physical sales, royalties, licensing deals, live performances, and more. Artists only receive more money from the label once it recovers its advancement, but over 90% of artists will never be able to recoup the advancement paid to them. Moreover, when an artist is successful enough to recoup the entire advancement, the label will typically issue another advancement on royalties to keep an artist “in the hole.” Most importantly in the case of this note, labels often opt to own the “Master” recordings of the artist's songs. These are the original recordings from which copies are made for distribution on physical formats like CDs or vinyl records, or digital formats like streaming platforms. While the industry professionals colloquially describe this process as “exploiting” the artist, there is no denying that record companies devote a significant amount of time, money, and resources to signed artists in the hope of making them successful (at least by metric of cash flow). Additionally, this model, while far from perfect, gives record companies a vested interest in the talent’s career by incentivizing signed artists’ long-term financial success where most will lose money for the label.

Before the rise of streaming, the physical sales of artists’ vinyl, 8-track, and CDs were extremely lucrative. Consequently, despite the high costs associated with backing talent for record companies, and the gratuitous cut artists sacrificed in return, both parties—when successful—brought in cash, hand over fist during the physical sales era. That was until the end of the 20th century when the internet would threaten this model, forever changing the income structure for labels and artists alike.

HE LOVED TO DRIVE IN HIS JAGUAR: THE FIRST EXISTENTIAL THREAT TO RECORD LABELS AND A&M RECORDS, INC. VS. NAPSTER, INC. (2001)

Spotify is not solely responsible for its failure to democratize the music industry. Its technology did not appear without warning. In fact, streaming—and changing revenue models in the music industry—can trace their origins back to the first existential threat to record companies’ obstinate model: the internet and the key players that arose in its wake. 

By 1990, many labels were almost 100 years old. While the industry became increasingly cutthroat, and the number of labels began to shrink, record companies’ business model remained largely unchanged. Income during this period still primarily came from selling physical copies of their signed artists’ vinyl, 8-track, and CDs. 

While the music industry stagnated, the internet proliferated from something used almost exclusively by the Department of Defense and elite research institutions to a household tool in widespread use with ordinary citizens in nearly every household. Simultaneously, the MP3 file, a technology that allowed users to conveniently store a high fidelity three to four minute song on a 3-megabyte file, gained traction as a digital means of listening to music. The concurrent emergence of both technologies created the perfect storm for internet users to share song files via the MP3 format through peer-to-peer (P2P) sharing websites such as Napster, where strangers from across the globe shared the music they loved for free without any personal contact or sale. 

Record labels went into crisis mode, and in 2001, A&M Records, representing eighteen other members of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), filed suit against Napster. The case centered on copyright infringement allegations, as Napster facilitated the sharing of copyrighted music without proper authorization. Technically, Napster was only the middleman, connecting thousands of users who committed infringement. The court ruled in favor of the labels, holding Napster liable for contributory and vicarious copyright infringement. On appeal, the 9th Circuit upheld the lower court’s ruling, and on July 11, 2001, Napster shut down its network to comply with the court-ordered injunction from the suit. 

A&M Records, Inc. v. Napster, Inc., along with many individual lawsuits brought by artists such as Dr. Dre and Metallica, would prove to be the death of not only Napster, but also a fleeting moment in time occupied by pioneers of a largely unregulated internet and idealists who described this era as a time where music was briefly once again a public good. Unfortunately for the labels, the cat was already out of the bag, and while Napster used up its nine lives, there were way too many kittens to sue out of existence; suing every individual Napster user was impracticable. Internet and MP3 technology were not going anywhere, and there was no going back to the previous dominance of physical sales. Moreover, the demise of Napster left a gaping hole in the market which would provide one of the biggest business opportunities in the history of capitalism, securing the momentum necessary to complete one corporation’s journey to global dominance.

WELCOME TO THE MACHINE: ITUNES, THE LABELS’ BIGGEST LOSS, AND THE EMERGENCE OF CATALOG (2001-2010)

January of 2001 proved to be a fateful month for the music industry. While the record labels were fighting for their lives in court, Apple, Inc. (then Apple Computer, Inc., headed by CEO Steve Jobs) released a for-profit digital MP3 marketplace named iTunes (this “i” naming convention was still relatively new at the time, and iTunes shared it with the iMac, iBook, and a few other inaugural programs created for these devices). Later that year, on November 10, 2001, Apple released their own portable MP3 player, the iPod. The success of the iPod as a portable music player, coupled with the ease of syncing MP3 files purchased from the iTunes store, created a seamless user experience. 

The iPod's popularity helped iTunes become a dominant player in the digital music market, giving Apple significant negotiating power at a crucial time when physical musical sales were especially threatened. Record companies, initially resistant to digital distribution and single-track sales, had to adapt to the changing landscape to remain relevant. With their backs against the wall, labels entered unfavorable licensing deals with Apple to put signed artists’ music on iTunes. The revenue per song decreased significantly after factoring in Apple’s cut.

iTunes’s business model had a further ripple effect on consumer habits; people increasingly gravitated towards individual track purchases, opting to forego the purchase of entire albums. Singles became as relevant as ever, foreshadowing consumer habits that would only become more pronounced with the proliferation of streaming. iTunes’s dominance was a low point for many labels, and during this period, many record companies, forced by Steve Jobs’s hand, consolidated as subsidiaries under the umbrella of Universal Music Group, Sony Music, and Warner Music Group. These dominant forces, known as the “Big Three,” had already been growing in prominence during the ‘80s and ‘90s. Often acquisitions of other smaller labels converted into acquisition of music rights for artists signed under them. It is important to note that while the acquisition of catalogs was a great incentive for the Big Three to acquire other labels, it was peripheral to eliminating competition, and not necessarily the driving force in the market yet. With that said, iTunes sparked a desire in the consumer for single songs on demand, further driving the consolidation of the Big Three, and consequently acquisition of catalogs. With streaming on the horizon, the “Big Three would come back with a vengeance from their defeat by iTunes, their newly acquired catalog rights a secret weapon to stay on top.

BASK IN THE SHADOW OF YESTERDAY’S TRIUMPH: CATALOG ON EVERY CORNER (2011-PRESENT)

Record companies did not forget the loss they took with iTunes, and when Spotify was released in the United States in 2011, once again labels’ lives flashed before their eyes. This time, labels took their time and did not immediately know how to react. Many higher-ups at labels viewed streaming and its longevity with skepticism, and not without good reason; plenty of startups’ days in the sun had proven to be fleeting. Moreover, this newfound streaming technology was sold with the ambitious premise that it would democratize the music business, and in some ways it did. Independent artists could, and still do, directly upload their music to streaming platforms, giving them the potential to reach a global audience without a traditional record deal. However, while the ability to reach a worldwide audience is a necessary element to success, it is not alone sufficient to cultivate a global fanbase. 

Rather than becoming the great equalizer for independent artists in the power struggle with labels, streaming’s more significant legacy would be the financialization of the music industry by shifting the paradigm for users towards music access over ownership. Streaming’s business model differs significantly from the model of physical sales because these platforms allow end users to stream a vast catalog of songs unlimitedly under a subscription-based or ad-supported revenue model. Consequently, streaming revenue is on average lower per play when compared to traditional album sales, effectively reducing the amount of money in play for artists and labels alike. Record companies, however—particularly the Big Three—came to realize several benefits from this shift and saw an opportunity to leverage their prior acquisitions of both other labels and the catalog rights tied to such purchases.

The unlimited play model opened the opportunity to benefit from the steady stream of income through licensing deals with streaming services. Streaming platforms offer a consistent and predictable revenue stream, especially compared to the more variable income associated with physical sales or digital downloads. Owning the rights to a catalog allows record companies to benefit from ongoing streaming royalties, making the music business more stable and less reliant on individual album releases. Therefore, it benefitted labels to buy the rights to as much music in existence as possible to facilitate creating these deals and the resulting income. The above factors have translated into a growing recognition of the long-term value of intellectual property in the music industry, and this recognition has influenced investors and record labels to view music catalogs, with their potential for continued revenue through streaming, licensing, and sync deals as valuable investments. 

An unlimited play model also eliminated many downsides to buying large swaths of top artists’ music because it created new opportunities for non-singles to be profitable that didn’t exist before due to restraints within the physical, radio, and TV model. For example, while almost everyone knows of The Beatles 1969 hit, “Here Comes the Sun” off of their 12 times platinum album Abbey Road, not everyone is familiar with other songs on the album, such as “You Never Give Me Your Money” or “Golden Slumbers.” Before unlimited streaming, it would certainly be a sound business decision to acquire “Here Comes the Sun” because it could be played in a blockbuster movie, on prime-time television, or on any radio station across the United States with mass recognition. However, under the prior model, acquiring the rights and devoting precious (and expensive) air time to less recognizable B-Sides from Abbey Road made less relative sense, as it would risk wasting finite air time on less recognizable Beatles tracks. 

Unlike the expensive resource of TV or radio air time, there is little to no cost associated with maintaining an unlimited catalog of music on streaming services after the initial rights purchase. Fans can play B-Sides unlimitedly on streaming services whereas before they would have needed to purchase a physical album copy. With no air time to purchase, or decision to print one record over another due to both physical and cost restraints, it is now cheaper than ever for labels to make money from the licensing of non-singles. Moreover, many B-Sides and deep cuts might not have been played or printed at all under a predominantly physical sales and radio model, and hence not provided any income. Streaming transmogrified every song into a potential revenue stream, further incentivizing labels to acquire volumes of artists’ catalogs, where before, they were only interested in flagship hits and albums with unparalleled recognition. 

The newfound recognition of established artists’ non-singles as valuable IP due to streaming’s unlimited play model contrasts with new patterns in the emerging artist space due to streaming’s algorithm-driven features. Streaming’s smart shuffle and personalized playlist features disincentivize the creation of new album projects by emphasizing single-track streaming when recommending new music for users to aid in their music discovery. This change can be challenging for new artists, as record companies might prioritize hits and individual tracks over cohesive album projects, unlike established artists who have already gained recognition from existing projects under traditional income regimes. This streaming-driven change can be challenging for new artists who, unlike established legacy artists, do not have widespread recognition from an existing catalog of projects that were created under traditional income regimes. Record companies might prioritize emerging artists’ hits and individual tracks over the creation of cohesive album projects. Consequently, there is a heavy incentive for independent and newly signed artists to compromise the artistic process in favor of appeasing streaming platforms’ algorithms to break out as emerging artists. Artistry, once a hallmark of working professionals, is less valued than ever and is being squeezed out at every corner.

MONEY, IT’S A CRIME: THE MODERN CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE ARTIST

Throughout the entire history of the music industry, promoting emerging artists has been an art just as much as it has been a science. Upon deciding to back promising talent, record labels carefully balanced choices such as where to play artists’ music, which venues to purchase, and how many record copies to print. Labels want to give the artist the biggest boost possible while ensuring that the artist’s rise to fame seems organic. Otherwise, they risk the artist being described as an “industry plant,” homegrown in a lab by the label to become the “next big thing.” There are countless stories of heavily backed artists making it in the industry, but there are just as many losers as winners. Streaming in some ways has taken a lot of the guesswork out of the arcane practice of artist promotion that before heavily relied on luck no matter how much leverage labels placed on the scales.  

Streaming platforms use algorithms to recommend music to users, shaping listening habits.  Streaming services working hand-in-hand with record labels can put their hand on the scale in favor of the emerging artists of their choice. As a partnership, they can recommend music to listeners, place select music in auto-generated playlists, or even create “smart shuffle” features that autoplay music the service thinks the listener will like based on the listener’s existing preferences. Additionally, collaborating directly with streaming services grants record companies more information to aid in strategic decision making when promoting an artist. 

Where before there was much more trial and error involved with cultivating an industry plant, the use of streaming provides real-time data on which of an artist’s tracks are gaining traction with listeners in one place. Before, determining the number of people who listened to a song on national television or radio was a mercurial process that said little about whether people were coming back for that specific song. Thanks to streaming providing an à la carte menu of all songs from every artist on a platform, record companies now have data points of end-user listening habits by age, gender, location, and more. Moreover, the record companies can leverage this consumer data, along with data about existing artists’ (which of an artist’s songs are most popular, if certain songs are being placed in playlists, and where the artist is gaining traction geographically) to make informed decisions on signing new artists and marketing strategies for existing artists. 

Independent artists find themselves at a greater disadvantage than ever in negotiating record deals because only a few record labels—Universal Music Group, Sony Music Entertainment, and Warner Music Group—and streaming services—Spotify, Apple Music, and Amazon Music—dominate the market. This concentration of power gives these companies significant influence in negotiating deals with record labels and determining how revenue is distributed. Moreover, streaming services are incentivized to work with record labels because they count on good working relationships with these companies to ensure favorable licensing deals to further their main objective: providing as much content as possible to listeners to ensure a high subscriber count. 

MONEY, IT’S A HIT: CATALOG OWNERSHIP PROMOTES THE BOTTOM LINE

Music has become heavily financialized because of the increasing recognition of the long-term value of music catalogs that came with the rise of streaming services and the related changes in revenue models. New players, such as investment funds and financial institutions, are now entering the space, determined to acquire music assets that they view as potential revenue streams. Owning the rights to a catalog allows these players to generate cash not only through traditional sales, but also through streaming, licensing, synchronization in TV, films, commercials, and other avenues. Rather than art, these entities view music catalogs as long-term financial assets with potentially massive returns, leading to an increase in catalog purchases for investment purposes. Record companies, along with alternative asset management firms such as private equity giant KKR, are now actively seeking to acquire these catalogs, often through outright purchases or complex deals with artists, songwriters, or their estates. This streaming-driven corporatization is further marginalizing artists’ power in the landscape because the introduction of financial institutions into the industry is yet another factor separating the art from the artist in a landscape already plagued by massive power imbalance.

A WALK ON PART IN THE WAR FOR A LEADING ROLE IN A CAGE: THE SHIFT IN OWNERSHIP DYNAMICS

Before streaming, artists and their estates maintained more control over their catalogs because labels and financial institutions involved in the industry were not yet actively acquiring catalogs at a breakneck rate. In cases where artists or songwriters passed away, the ownership of their catalogs more often passed to their estates, which could make decisions regarding the use and licensing of the music, as well as negotiate deals for the sale of rights. If necessary, artists or their estates more often had the option to sell the rights to their catalogs for financial reasons or as part of estate planning. Many successful artists, such as Stevie Nicks, Bob Dylan, and Shakira even purchased back the rights to their master recordings from labels, despite record companies retaining these rights in original contracts . Notably, before 2021, Bruce Springsteen owned his own catalog and could say yes or no to licensing deals. Severing the ownership of intellectual property from its creator tends to remove any interest in gatekeeping the work’s artistic value in favor of promoting the bottom line from its exploitation to financially justify the investor’s purchase. For example, in the 1980s, Bette Midler—interested in protecting her work’s artistic value—refused to sell the rights to, or re-record her song, “Do You Wanna Dance?” for a Ford commercial. While the specific terms regarding ownership of the master recordings can still vary widely depending on the negotiations between the artist and the record label, many artists may not be able to prevent the use of their recordings in commercials, movies, and other formats, even if they find the context disagreeable. 

With the increasing recognition of the long-term value of music catalogs as a strategic asset, record companies and investors are less willing to strike favorable deals with artists to relinquish the rights to artists’ catalogs. While many artists own the rights to their masters and are willing to sell them for significant profits, others—who want to protect the creative value of their work—are struggling under the streaming model with unfavorable contracts. For example, world superstar, Taylor Swift, was originally signed with Big Machine Label Group, which sold the rights to her masters to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings. Even though Swift entered a new contract with Universal Music Group, her original contract retroactively prevented her from controlling the rights of her masters. After considerable publicity about the disagreement between Swift and Braun (many speculate that Braun, recognizing the value of her catalog, refused to sell her back her masters rights), Swift meticulously re-recorded many of her biggest hits in an effort to control the masters of her music, releasing them as “Taylor’s Versions.” This campaign has been somewhat successful, as Taylor’s Versions are widely streamed by an intensely loyal fan base. As of March 2024, Swift’s 2023 version of her 2014 hit, “Is It Over Now?” is her second most popular song on Spotify (Spotify gauges popularity by recent streaming activity rather than total streams), with almost 272 million streams. With that said, few artists likely have a fan base that is as widespread and devoted as Swift’s, and fewer artists have the time or immense resources required to re-record new masters of their own songs. Moreover, record labels and music publishers are increasingly restricting artists’ rights to re-record music, thereby reducing the viability of this strategy.

I’M ALRIGHT JACK, KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY STACK: GRIFFIN V. SHEERAN, GAYE V. ROBIN THICKE, AND THE FUTURE OF LAWSUITS

For years, the music industry has proven extremely litigious, and the beneficiaries of many artists’ estates filed copyright infringement claims of varying legitimacy in an effort to be awarded damages. For example, in Williams v. Gaye, after settlement negotiations failed, artists Pharrell Williams, Robin Thicke, and T.I. requested a declaratory judgment that their 2013 hit, “Blurred Lines,” did not copy Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give it Up.” Gaye’s estate successfully countersued for copyright infringement. The appellate court affirmed the opinion, holding that copyright infringement suits can rest alone on access to the work via its widespread dissemination and subconscious copying, effectively removing the crime’s scienter element. The dissent criticized the decision as allowing Gaye to copyright a “style” of music and suggested that similar elements in the songs should not be protectable. This outcome contrasts with another suit arising over Gaye’s music, Griffin v. Sheeran, in which the successors in interest of Ed Townsend, the co-writer of Marvin Gaye’s 1973 hit, “Let’s Get it On,” unsuccessfully sued Ed Sheeran for copyright infringement over his 2014 song, “Thinking Out Loud.” The court ultimately sided with Sheeran, holding that melodic chord progressions do not arise to the level of protectability. The streaming-driven acquisition of catalogs by labels likely promotes additional copyright litigation because unlike in these cases, in which artists’ limited private estates filed suit, record companies—with their newfound status as stakeholders from their acquisitions—will be encouraged to file future suits by their comparatively unlimited resources for plaintiff’s counsel and the increasing need to justify the bottom line of their catalog investment, This forecast is all the more ominous when paired with the near strict liability nature of copyright infringement violations as seen in the Gaye cases and the unpredictability of copyright suits’ outcomes.

In the case of copyright infringement lawsuits, even the industry attorneys who bring them often cannot predict which way an infringement case will go.* This unpredictability is likely due to various factors including judges’ lack of musical sophistication and the difficulty in applying legal concepts to music theory. In 2020, the estate of Randy Wolfe, guitarist for the rock band Spirit, sued Led Zeppelin for infringement, alleging that Zeppelin’s hit “Stairway to Heaven” copied Spirit’s “Taurus.” Unlike the Gaye suits above, the two songs in question are eerily similar, sharing an almost identical acoustic guitar intro melody. Additionally, Zeppelin had undeniable exposure to Taurus; Spirit often opened for Led Zeppelin. Shockingly, the court found no infringement occurred. The unpredictability of copyright infringement suits and the low level of intent required to prevail in them are worrisome when combined with labels’ newfound standing in these suits resulting from streaming-driven catalog acquisition because labels now have more opportunities than ever before to claim infringement. These details are even more disturbing when one considers labels’ deep budgets for trial lawyers and the increasing need to justify music assets as profitable financial investments. This perfect storm, fueled by streaming, is foreboding when one considers record levels of copyright infringement suits in the last two decades and the evolving landscape of media consumption ahead.

SHINE ON, YOU CRAZY DIAMOND: THE FUTURE LANDSCAPE FOR ARTISTS

The widespread licensing of catalogs does not just promote litigation between various copyright holders, but also between copyright holders and the social media services they license music to. This past January for example, Universal Music Group (“UMG”) announced it would not be renewing its license with TikTok for its music catalog available to users for video content creation. UMG stated that TikTok’s efforts to address AI deep fakes featuring its represented artists were insufficient, along with its broader measures to combat copyright infringement on the platform. Additionally, UMG criticized the adequacy of the royalties paid to artists for their music by TikTok. These are common complaints from copyright holders to online platforms, and independent platforms like TikTok force artists, left with no alternative for enforcing their royalty rights, to align their interests with record labels in these legal battles. Moreover, artificial intelligence is a wildcard in this landscape when it comes to copyright infringement. AI is not just a conversational language model but is capable of creating visual art and music. Beyond deepfakes, AI-generated music presents new problem sets the industry will have to overcome. Can it be guilty of copyright infringement? If it is adjudicated as guilty, who will stand trial and pay the penalties involved? With millions of AI users worldwide, how do we prevent recidivism within these programs? 

CONCLUSION

Rather than offering artists the disruptive reprieve once promised in their struggle for independence from labels, streaming inadvertently created a more hostile environment than ever for them by driving labels to acquire catalogs and introducing Wall Street to the industry. Despite an increase in the number of platforms giving artists the opportunity to directly reach an audience, labels are increasingly throwing their weight around with these platforms and artists alike, creating friction from the threat of litigation. Copyright lawsuits are at record levels, and the music industry, now dominated only by a few catalog-obsessed behemoths, seems to be gearing up for a copyright infringement world war—and if this happens, artists will be forced to either take a side, or get caught in the crossfire without a dog in the fight directly advocating for their interests.