Me and JP2

Twenty years ago, one of the most controversial regulatory proceedings in the history of the Federal Communications Commission focused on whether to authorize so-called "separate satellites" to compete internationally. Several new applicants, and many bureaucrats in at least two agencies, wanted to inject competition into what was, at that time, a near-monopoly legally reserved for the former treaty-based satellite organization called INTELSAT. Other government agencies preferred the status quo.

International satellite policy was and is my principal specialty. When the issue first arose, I was a low-level bureaucrat with one of agencies favoring competition. However, before the FCC process was completed, I'd switched to the private sector--the low man of the totem pole counseling INTELSAT. No longer pushing competition, I was now paid to stop or stall it.

"Stopping" proved impossible, and "stalling" wore thin, even after publishing a couple of cautionary law review articles. In late 1994, President Reagan officially endorsed competition in the international satellites arena; in mid-1995, the FCC authorized limited competition, holding that, "the establishment of separate satellite systems will result in substantial benefits to users of international satellite communications services." My initial client (the government) had won; my current client lost.

But, until now, I never knew INTELSAT’s position was supported by God, appearing in human form as Pope John Paul II. Washington attorney Ken Robinson, who worked for the Commerce Department during this period, described the intervention from above in the April 10th Telecom Policy Report (on dead tree only):

[O]ne afternoon a fellow in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie appeared at the offices of NTIA Administrator Markey, and delivered a large, standard brown envelope to the receptionist. Up in the corner of the brown envelope were just two crossed keys and, beneath them, "Apostolic Nunciature." Inside that brown envelope, then, was another. It was a sort-of square, roughly seven-by-nine inch envelope. The envelope paper was creamy, expensive, high rag-content bond -- which is unusual. Stationers usually use lower grade paper for envelopes, because they're intended to be torn and thrown away.

The address on this cream-colored envelope was hand-written in semi-calligraphy fashion. In the upper left-hand corner of the envelope in deep crimson ink were small letters reading "Vatican City State." . . The letter [inside] explained that the Vatican, an Intelsat Signatory, was concerned that competition could erode the system's ability to provide service to developing countries. The letter urged special consideration be given to any such negative impact.

The letter was signed fairly neatly with a large "Casaroli." There was no title or other "signature block" information provided. This provoked some irritation on the part of the [government] secretary responsible to date-stamp and log these communications in. "Don't these people know how to send letters?" the secretary muttered. "They've been at it this way for about 2,000 years," was the response she got from another NTIA staffer.

The signatory here was Agostino Cardinal Casaroli, longtime Secretary of State for the Vatican City State -- and, essentially the number two official in the hierarchy of the Holy See (after the Pope). The Vatican was an Intelsat member, holding the minimum share. The letter made a perfectly legitimate point -- that there were important social policy implications to the decision.

I'm enormously cheered by the news. True, we lost that case. But if Pope John Paul II couldn't make it happen, no one could. A week after his death, the Holy Father granted me -- not even a Catholic -- absolution.