Let me start with a question: What does it say about our system when the people meant to police corporate power are being handed luxury tickets to events they’re supposed to oversee? The recent revelation that FCC Chairman Brendan Carr and Commissioner Olivia Trusty received Kennedy Center Honors tickets from Paramount—worth upwards of $125,000 per seat—feels less like a scandal and more like a grotesque illustration of how easily influence can seep into regulatory oversight. It’s not just about the money; it’s about the optics. When you’re sitting in a private box with the very executives your agency is reviewing, you’re not just accepting a gift—you’re signaling complicity.
The FCC’s role in Paramount’s tangled web of mergers and acquisitions has always been fraught with tension. From approving Skydance’s acquisition of Paramount Global to scrutinizing Middle Eastern ownership stakes, the commission has been both gatekeeper and enabler. But here’s what’s fascinating: The Kennedy Center event wasn’t an isolated incident. It’s part of a long-standing tradition where CBS has gifted FCC commissioners tickets to this prestigious gala. Seven out of ten commissioners over the past decade attended, including Carr’s predecessor. Yet this year, the timing feels different. With Paramount locked in a high-stakes battle over Warner Bros. Discovery and facing lawsuits, those tickets suddenly look like more than just a networking opportunity—they’re a potential liability.
What makes this particularly galling is the sheer audacity of it. The Kennedy Center Honors are a celebration of cultural legacy, but when the people deciding the fate of media conglomerates are seated in the front row, it blurs the line between appreciation and corruption. I’ve written before about how regulatory agencies often operate in a gray zone where ethical boundaries are defined by self-regulation. But when a commissioner’s ethics disclosure fails to mention a $12,000 ticket (or worse, a $125,000 one), it’s not just a paperwork oversight—it’s a systemic failure. This isn’t just about Carr or Trusty; it’s about a culture that normalizes such exchanges as routine.
And let’s not ignore the broader implications. The FCC’s oversight of Paramount isn’t just about media consolidation; it’s about who controls the narrative. When a company that owns CBS, MTV, and Paramount Pictures is fighting for dominance in the streaming wars, the regulatory process becomes a chess game where the rules are written by the players. The Kennedy Center tickets, then, are more than a perk—they’re a subtle reminder of who’s pulling the strings. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about one agency; it’s a pattern. From the SEC to the FTC, regulators often find themselves in positions where their authority is undermined by the very entities they’re meant to constrain.
Here’s what I find especially interesting: The bipartisan attendance at the Kennedy Center Honors suggests that this isn’t a partisan issue—it’s a structural one. Both Democrats and Republicans have participated in this tradition, which raises a deeper question: If this is how the system works, what does it mean for the integrity of our regulatory framework? The fact that Anna Gomez, the lone Democratic commissioner, skipped the 2025 event might be a sign of growing awareness, but it also highlights how difficult it is to break free from these ingrained norms. If you take a step back and think about it, the real problem isn’t just the tickets. It’s the culture that allows such exchanges to occur without scrutiny. This raises a provocative idea: What if the solution isn’t just stricter ethics rules, but a complete rethinking of how regulators are funded and compensated? Because until we address the root of the problem—the cozy relationship between regulators and the industries they’re supposed to police—these scandals will keep happening, no matter how many disclosures are filed.
