Roughly two months prior, attorney John P. Coale — one of multiple legal representatives who serve Donald Trump in a strictly personal capacity — participated in a gathering held at Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida. The meeting brought together an eclectic assembly of Alphabet executives, professional mediators, and corporate attorneys, as well as Trump himself. Rather than convening under the shadow of pending litigation, the group devoted itself to more genial pursuits: they enjoyed the luxurious surroundings of the estate, shared a catered lunch provided by Trump, and deliberately steered their discussions away from the looming subject of federal antitrust lawsuits targeting Google. Coale later explained in an interview with *The Verge* that he was careful not to touch upon any legal issues during the event, remarking that to blur such boundaries could prove “dicey.” Whenever the subject drew close to matters of antitrust — never, according to him, raised expressly by either Google representatives or himself — both his side and the Google executives would immediately interject to stress their mutual rule: “That has nothing to do with this. We’re not going anywhere near that.”
By late September, however, the tangible outcome of that seemingly innocuous luncheon emerged into public view. YouTube, a subsidiary business owned by Alphabet, had agreed to a $24.5 million settlement with Trump and several of his associates. Importantly, this settlement was not tied to antitrust proceedings but instead to a lawsuit filed in 2021. That separate case alleged that YouTube had infringed upon Trump’s free speech rights by suspending his channel shortly after the January 6th Capitol riot. While the settlement included no admission of wrongdoing on YouTube’s part, it nonetheless ensured that Trump and his allies received substantial monetary compensation. Coale himself had acted as Trump’s legal counsel in this particular lawsuit.
Meanwhile, Alphabet remains entangled in two separate federal government antitrust cases that, at least theoretically, could force its breakup. The plausibility of such an outcome, however, has waned considerably; a recent ruling in Google’s search monopoly case produced only modest remedies, signaling diminished appetite for sweeping structural reforms. One of these cases was originally launched during Trump’s first presidency but advanced to trial under the Biden administration. The other was initiated entirely under Biden’s Department of Justice. When Trump returned to office, despite populating his administration with officials long hostile toward large technology companies, his government did not abandon either case.
The YouTube litigation nevertheless followed a divergent trajectory. It was a class-action lawsuit undertaken on behalf of Trump and several other right-wing media outlets and creators, who argued as private citizens that YouTube had engaged in unlawful censorship. Their claim centered on the assertion that suspensions following the Capitol unrest constituted violations of their First Amendment freedoms. Yet legal scholars viewed the case as tenuous. Mark Lemley, a Stanford University law professor known for his expertise in technology law, told *The Verge* that YouTube could easily have dismissed the matter. “There was no legal basis,” he insisted. YouTube, as a privately owned platform, was under no constitutional obligation to provide open access to political speech and remained free to terminate accounts without cause, especially those deemed in violation of terms of service. To Lemley, the settlement amounted to nothing more nor less than a “political payoff.” Alphabet’s money, funneled through its video platform, effectively became a significant contribution to one of Trump’s vanity projects adorning the White House grounds.
Court documents clarified how Trump intended to allocate his personal portion of the payout: approximately $22 million would be redirected toward a nonprofit organization, the Trust for the National Mall, with instructions that it fund construction of an opulent White House state ballroom. Earlier announcements from Trump proclaimed his intention to demolish the Rose Garden — redesigned during Jackie Kennedy’s tenure — and replace it with a palatial 900-seat ballroom modeled on one at his Turnberry golf course. The price tag for this endeavor reached roughly $200 million, financed through Trump’s personal contributions and donations from select private benefactors, which, according to reporting, even included multimillion-dollar pledges from major technology companies. CBS News suggested that Google itself was among those companies pledging $5 million or more, heightening speculation that Alphabet’s indirect financial footprint on the ballroom project exceeds $27 million, representing over thirteen percent of the planned budget.
This financial relationship is particularly striking given the longstanding animosity between the broader MAGA movement and Alphabet. Conservative circles have accused Google repeatedly of partisan bias, emphasizing its leaders’ publicly documented ties to Democratic politicians. Co-founders Sergey Brin and Larry Page enjoyed familiarity with President Obama, and ex-Obama administration officials later found employment at Google. Eric Schmidt, once Google’s executive chairman, supported Hillary Clinton’s presidential run and drew ire from Trump supporters for appearing in leaked campaign emails. As such, Alphabet has been a recurrent target of Republican-led hearings investigating perceived censorship of conservative voices. Trump himself carried a personal resentment; in 2018, he claimed that Google Search results privileged content from progressive news outlets while suppressing favorable mention of his administration. Although the company insisted its search algorithm was politically neutral and resistant to manipulation, Trump’s mistrust lingered.
Within this context, YouTube appeared an easier target for Trump’s legal strategizing than Google Search. Whereas search algorithms reflect complex technical systems largely devoid of individually accountable actors, YouTube moderation involves tangible editorial decisions about videos and creators. Conservative figures who built their followings on the platform — many of whom lost visibility after YouTube cracked down on election-denial or Covid misinformation — comprised a critical faction of the MAGA base. Between 2020 and 2023, YouTube actively removed videos promoting vaccine misinformation, false claims about the 2020 election, and other dangerous conspiracy content. The suspensions encompassed a wide variety of prominent right-wing accounts, including those belonging to Dan Bongino, the American Conservative Union, and author Naomi Wolf. Not least among them was Trump himself, who lost his ability to post videos in January 2021 following the Capitol riots. While YouTube softened its policies by 2023 and reinstated Trump’s channel in time for the 2024 campaign season, the lawsuit had already gained traction. Trump’s congressional allies, including Rep. Jim Jordan, summoned YouTube records of correspondence with the Biden White House, insisting that federal officials shaped moderation decisions improperly.
Coale asserted that his team’s discussions with YouTube often circled around the theme of undue government collusion. They refrained from presenting such points as ultimatums but expressed constant suspicion that Biden administration officials and federal agencies like the FBI improperly pressured the company. To defend his theory, Coale referenced Supreme Court jurisprudence but provided vague citations. He argued that if a so-called private actor coordinated closely with government officials who requested certain enforcement actions, then that entity would legally assume the role of the government itself and fall under constitutional restrictions surrounding free speech. However, when pressed, he could not identify a specific case. Professor Lemley countered Coale’s interpretation, noting that existing law only acknowledged narrower circumstances related to government “jawboning,” such as the high-profile case *Murthy v. Missouri*. And in that litigation, the Supreme Court ultimately rejected conservative claims, underscoring that the First Amendment constraints remain inapplicable to private corporate choices.
Once Trump returned to office, Coale contended, YouTube’s tone in negotiations shifted, suggesting a changing balance of power behind the settlement rather than a clear legal mandate. Broader threats facing Alphabet contextualize these developments. Google had already avoided a forced corporate breakup in Judge Amit Mehta’s ruling, which identified evidence of monopoly but declined to impose divestiture of its Chrome or Android divisions. Nevertheless, another case involving Google’s advertising technology remains active, with Judge Leonie Brinkema ruling that Google maintained an anticompetitive monopoly in two digital advertising markets. The Department of Justice has since demanded divestiture of its AdX platform, leaving Alphabet exposed to continued risks of restructuring. Prominent policymakers such as Sen. Elizabeth Warren continue to urge vigorous enforcement, amplifying concerns that further appeals may escalate pressure on Google.
For corporate executives calculating how best to placate Trump’s administration, the symbolism of large donations to his ballroom project may serve as a subtle yet strategic gesture. A Republican lobbyist comparing the situation described the government’s arsenal of antitrust challenges as “a gun on the table”: even when dormant, the threat always looms. Thus, while financial contributions cannot guarantee Alphabet immunity from regulatory action, they represent a highly effective means of flattering the president. Trump’s governing style has long been characterized by impulsivity and receptiveness to personal adulation. Even within an administration dominated by conservative radicals intent on curbing technology platforms, Trump has consistently overridden ideological consistency in exchange for loyalty or grand gestures of support. And few gestures flatter him more profoundly than millions of dollars directed toward a personal architectural legacy project.
In summary, the narrative illustrates a complex blend of law, politics, and spectacle. What began as a seemingly casual lunch at a glamorous resort culminated in one of the most expensive settlements in YouTube’s history, which in turn funded Trump’s extravagant ballroom project. For Trump and his supporters, the outcome represented vindication, financial victory, and architectural glory; for Alphabet, it may represent both risk management and political appeasement. As Coale himself succinctly put it: in the end, the settlement left everyone — from the president to the other plaintiffs — satisfied.
Sourse: https://www.theverge.com/policy/791355/trump-youtube-google-antitrust-ballroom
