APRA Chapter 1: A Call for Equitable Reform

As Lawrence Lessig highlights:

"When creativity is on the edge, the real innovation comes from the places where there is less control."

The current model of the Australasian Performing Right Association (APRA) runs counter to this principle, operating under the guise of a non-profit organization while effectively functioning like a corporation, centralizing control and limiting opportunities for smaller creators.

APRA's primary objective is to maximize royalties for its largest stakeholders—primarily large publishers and major artists. This drive for maximizing returns mirrors the operations of insurance companies, where venues and businesses pay royalties like premiums to legally provide music to the public. However, most of these royalties flow disproportionately to major corporate entities rather than smaller, independent artists. Given that APRA's revenue per capita is only AUD $19.23, its status as a non-profit organization is misleading, as it functions primarily to serve corporate interests, rather than fostering a fair, decentralized creative marketplace [source].

The Corporate Reality and the NRMA Example

Given APRA's corporate drive, there is a strong argument that it should be restructured as a for-profit corporation, in a similar manner to how the NRMA transitioned from a non-profit to a privatized entity. The NRMA issued shares to its members as it transformed, allowing participants to own a portion of the organization based on their contributions. A similar model would allow APRA members—artists and smaller creators—to own stakes in the organization and profit equitably from its revenue generation. This restructuring would align with APRA’s true operational behavior and ensure fairer distribution of royalties.

If APRA does not reform, it will block the formation of new unions or rights organizations, based on ethical principles and self-publishing, which are becoming increasingly important in the modern, decentralized creative economy.

As Lawrence Lessig further points out, publishers have largely abandoned the search for new artists:

"The publishers aren’t seeking out talent in the way they once did; they are simply benefiting from the existing catalogues, relying on historical content rather than investing in new voices."

This shift means that organizations like APRA are failing to serve smaller artists, and as a result, fewer opportunities exist for independent creators to break through. The current model, which centralizes control, limits the potential for smaller artists to innovate and compete globally [source].

A Call for Ethical Restructuring

Ultimately, if APRA is to continue as a non-profit, it must introduce government oversight to ensure it aligns with the public interest and the broader Australian music ecosystem. Without reform, APRA’s corporate model will perpetuate a cycle that favors large publishers over the emerging creators it purports to support. Privatization, or at least introducing market-based solutions, is essential to creating a more decentralized and fair music industry in Australia, where independent artists can thrive without being stifled by corporate control [source].

APRA: The Gatekeeper and the Burden of Red Tape

In Australia, APRA stands as the sole gatekeeper between creators and the public, mandating payments wherever music is played—effectively making music as essential, and costly, as hot water. Through its exclusive control, APRA organizes a complex web of red tape that prioritizes large publishers and major artists, sidelining smaller, independent creators. This system lacks both government oversight and competitive fairness, functioning outside the bounds of a truly open marketplace.

With no regulatory counterbalance, APRA’s practices operate in a closed loop that benefits established industry giants while restricting opportunities for emerging talents. Small venues, local businesses, and independent creators all bear the brunt of this system, forced to navigate APRA's bureaucratic barriers, which increase costs and stifle creative diversity. Despite its non-profit status, APRA’s operational model skews towards maximizing returns for its largest stakeholders rather than fostering a thriving, diverse music ecosystem.

Centralization, Pay-for-Play, and the Erosion of Creative Freedom

In the golden age of publishing, laws prohibited pay-for-play schemes, ensuring that radio airwaves remained a fair and accessible platform for genuine talent. Today, however, streaming services like Spotify frequently insert content from unfamiliar artists into personalized playlists, overriding listeners' choices in favor of promoting brands—often based on paid placements. This modern pay-for-play practice is less about showcasing artistic merit and more about amplifying those with the largest budgets, pushing creativity to the sidelines. Former platforms like Last.fm operated on more democratic principles but faded as hyper-commercialized models took over. Now, artists are often forced to "spam" the public just to be heard, reducing art to a numbers game rather than a celebration of originality.

This shift towards hyper-capitalism extends beyond music. In film, placement deals dictate casting decisions and narratives. During the pandemic, I joined a Clubhouse conversation where filmmakers shared that securing funding often required casting specific individuals with industry connections or influence. Creativity took a backseat as films became vehicles for strategic placements—yet another example of how monetary influence shapes what the public consumes, rather than artistic vision.

Platforms like Netflix and YouTube further entrench this centralized, profit-driven model. YouTube, for instance, claims to offer diverse content but primarily operates through algorithms that amplify U.S.-based voices and trends. Users searching for alternative viewpoints or local perspectives are often met with content filtered through a centralized, U.S.-centric lens. For instance, recent U.S. elections dominated YouTube feeds globally, overshadowing local issues that directly impact communities outside the U.S. The result is a disconnect: global audiences are drawn into narratives and events they have little influence over, while local perspectives struggle to gain traction.

These centralized systems—from Spotify and Netflix to YouTube—have co-opted the creative marketplace, creating a union for corporations where visibility is dictated by monetary influence rather than artistic or local relevance. To reclaim a fair, democratic creative ecosystem, there must be a shift towards decentralized platforms that honor the diversity of voices and the integrity of creative expression. Without such change, Australia and other regions will remain satellites of global corporations, dependent on external digital giants that prioritize profits over the true potential of art.