You Can Change the Game
- Dwight Cenac
- 4 hours ago
- 22 min read
When I first hit “publish” on my last blog post, I thought maybe a hundred people would read it. I had fewer than 200 email subscribers at the time. I certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up to 27,000 views, industry-wide debates, and my article being referenced — though not by name — in Jamey Stegmaier’s blog about his lawsuit.
I didn’t write that post to start a fire. But it spread like one anyway.
And I think I understand why.
I didn’t name names to be spiteful, and I didn’t call out anyone for the sake of drama. I wrote about a problem — one that’s bigger than any single publisher or tariff. It’s about how this industry is run. Or more accurately, how it isn’t.
The blog may have gone viral because it mentioned certain companies — but it resonated because it struck a nerve. Not just with readers, but within the business itself. This wasn’t about tariffs. It wasn’t about Final Frontier. It wasn’t even about board games.
It was about accountability.
About what it really means to run a business — with maturity, foresight, and integrity — especially when the pressure’s on.
Because if there’s one truth I’ll keep repeating, it’s this:
Your customers aren’t your backup plan. You are.
That said — I owe a correction, and an apology.
When I wrote that blog, I was 30 hours deep, unslept, running on fumes and frustration. I hit publish without double-checking a few key facts, and in the process, I misattributed a few game titles to Final Frontier that weren’t theirs. The moment I realized that, I issued a retraction and corrected the post. But that kind of mistake — no matter how small or accidental — is on me. If I’m going to demand accuracy and responsibility from others, I need to hold myself to the same standard.
So to my readers — and especially to those affected by the misinformation — I’m sorry. I’ve built my name on standing for truth, and I plan to keep it that way. This wasn’t about pointing fingers. It was about shining a light.
And now, with even more light on this issue, I want to dig deeper — not into the drama, but into the civic structure behind it all. Because this isn’t just about tariffs. It’s about how we apply the law. How we interpret risk. How we run companies like grown-ups, not victims.
THE HEART OF THE MATTER
The original blog wasn’t written out of anger. It was written out of urgency. What I planned to write about then — and what I’ll address more fully now — is the deeper, more damaging reality of our industry:
This isn’t a business. It’s a hobby club pretending to be one.
I’ve said this in my book Game Changer, and I’ll say it again here — the tabletop industry suffers from a terminal case of hobbyism. And no amount of money, backers, or influencer clout can change the fact that if your business model isn’t built like a business, then it’s just a ticking time bomb with a press release waiting to happen.
Since publishing the blog, I’ve received an avalanche of feedback. A lot of it has been positive — people reaching out to say “finally, someone’s saying what we’ve all been thinking.” And I appreciate that. But the overwhelming majority of feedback has come from people inside this industry who, frankly, have no idea what they’re talking about.
I’ve been challenged on receipts that are public record. I’ve been "corrected" on statutes that are verbatim U.S. law. I’ve been accused of misreading legal codes by people who’ve never even opened the 4000+page copy of the Harmonized Tariff Schedule — all because they feel confident that their intuition trumps documentation.
And that’s the danger.
When you’re a businessperson, you verify before you speak.
When you’re a hobbyist, you speak before you verify — and then double down because you're "passionate."
Case in point: I was recently approached by a so-called industry expert — a featured speaker at major conventions, an educator at NYU — who tried to solicit me into a string of felony offenses. I’m talking federal crimes, including misrepresentation before CBP and acting as an unlicensed broker, which carry over a million dollars in potential fines and over a decade in prison.
I cited him the law — line by line. He didn’t care.
He was so certain he was right that he ignored everything in writing, simply because he was the “expert.”
That’s not an expert. That’s a liability.
Why'd he even come at me? Because I created and posted this infographic to help publishers - like me - who are struggling with the fears and uncertainty of this current climate and paralyzed with what to do next:
And unfortunately, he’s not a unicorn. He’s a symptom.
This kind of arrogance — wrapped in reputation, untethered from reality — is rampant in the industry. And it’s exactly why this blog had to exist in the first place.
Because when you dare to treat your game company like a company — with SOPs, legal compliance, contracts, customer service standards, accountability metrics — you become a threat to the hobbyist majority.
Not because you’re wrong. But because you’re exposing how unserious the system really is.
And the public? They trust the big names. Not the guy with the receipts.
But here’s what no one wants to say out loud:
Not one of my critics has shown evidence. Not one has backed up their claims with documentation. Not even the lawsuits.
Their “receipts” are nothing more than “trust me, bro” anecdotes.“
My friend said it.” “I heard from someone.” “I saw someone post that…”
But follow those breadcrumbs, and you’ll find nothing.
No filings. No rulings. No screenshots. No sources. Just vibes.
And this isn’t just a publishing problem. This affects retailers, distributors, influencers, and even consumers.
Because when the people at the top are operating on vibes and ego instead of legal precedent and business discipline, the fallout hits everyone — especially the people who trusted them to deliver.
The Industry’s Disconnect
“If you think this is about tariffs, you’ve already missed the point.”
A lot of people have accused me of writing my blog about tariffs to promote my book.
I get it. That’s the surface-level take — the spicy one.
But here’s what’s funny about that:
My book doesn’t talk about tariffs. At all.
Why?
Because tariffs didn’t break your company. They just exposed that it was already cracked.
What Game Changer actually talks about — what it’s really about — is this growing disconnect between how people think they’re running a business… and how a business actually needs to be run if it’s going to survive.
The blog may have been sparked by a trade war, but the book?
The book is about the war within this industry — the silent collapse of companies that were never built to last.
Passion is Not Enough
Look — I know you love games. I do too. That’s probably why you got into this in the first place.
But passion is not a business model. It never has been.
This industry is full of creators, dreamers, and designers who fell in love with their idea and just assumed everything else would work itself out. And it did — for a while. As long as the Kickstarter funding kept rolling in, and fulfillment costs were low, and fans were patient… it was easy to believe you were building something solid.
But stress tests don’t lie.
When the economy shifted — when COVID hit, or freight tripled, or tariffs landed — what was built on excitement crumbled under pressure.
Tariffs didn’t cause your collapse. They revealed it.
You Built a Hobby, Not a Company
The real issue isn’t about China or trade or logistics. It’s about this:
Most board game companies aren’t companies at all. They’re hobbies that happened to go viral.
What does a company do when costs go up?
It checks its forecasts. It pivots supply chains. It leans on SOPs, reserve capital, and experienced teams. It adapts because it planned to adapt.
What did most publishers do?
They panicked. They went silent. They posted vague updates, made emotional appeals, and blamed external forces.
And I’m not talking about the indie devs with a garage and a dream.
I’m talking about the big names.
The loudest mouths in the room.
The publishers with tens of millions in capital.
The ones who proudly flex their print runs and convention booths like trophies.
They’re the ones who should have been ready.
And yet when it all hit the fan, they were just as lost — or worse.
We asked in the last blog where all that money went.
Nobody answered.
And that tells me everything I need to know.
If a 20% duty crushes your business — even 145% — you didn’t build a business. You built a gamble.
I get it — some of you are reading this and already scoffing.
You’re reaching for the X.
Dismissing this like it’s clickbait, conspiracy, or “fake news.”
But here’s the thing:
We just worked with a publisher who actually plans to pay the 145% tariff.
He didn’t whine. He didn’t go dark. He didn’t delay or hide behind “supply chain issues.”
He just delivered.
Not because he had to.
Because he said he would — and he built his business on principle.
He planned for the worst.
He baked his margins around that possibility.
He treated his word like a contract — and his customers like people.
And that’s the difference.
So don’t tell me it’s impossible.
It’s not.
You can survive a tariff.
You can protect your customers.
You can run your company with integrity and clarity.
But only if you stop pretending your hobby is a business —and start actually building one.
Why the Industry Is Struggling
This isn’t an attack. It’s a diagnosis.
There is a foundational misunderstanding in this industry between having a good idea and running a good business — and no amount of prestige, charm, backer updates, shiny stretch goals or "selling more games than [you] ever will in [your] entire life" can cover up that gap forever.
Let’s just look at the patterns:
Kickstarter dependence without discipline.
Multi-million-dollar campaigns still collapse under their own weight. Not because the money wasn’t there — but because the systems weren’t. No operating procedures. No profit modeling. No realistic logistics strategy. Just passion... and panic when it wasn't enough.
Leadership by personality, not principle.
Companies making six- and seven-figures get steered by influencers or founders who were never trained to lead. They make gut decisions. They ignore warning signs. They spend their way into disaster — and when the floor caves in, they either vanish or blame the world.
Trade associations built for prestige, not performance.
We have one major board game trade organization in America, and it has proven again and again that it is neither structured nor motivated to serve as a real advocate for its members. It acts more like a networking club than an industry backbone.
What all these symptoms point to is the same underlying sickness:
This is an industry full of people who never wanted to be CEOs — but became one by accident.
And now they don’t know what to do with that power.
The Truth You Don’t Want to Hear (But Need To)
You can’t build a company on vibes.
You can’t lead a team on vibes.
You can’t survive a changing global economy on vibes.
Because you’re not entitled to survive.
No business is.
That’s the whole point of risk.
If you want to keep doing this — publishing games, making promises, taking people’s money — you have a responsibility to level up. To learn the law. To build a buffer. To manage your ops.
Tariffs didn’t kill your company.
They tested it.
And if it couldn’t pass that test, that’s on you.
This isn’t about gatekeeping. It’s not about shaming you.
It’s about showing you that the path forward isn’t hope — it’s discipline.
You’re not just making games. You’re building companies.
And the sooner we all start acting like it, the better shot this industry has at surviving what’s coming next.
Why I Wrote Game Changer
If everything I’ve laid out so far feels heavy — good.
That weight you’re feeling? That’s the truth. And it’s supposed to be uncomfortable.
Because if your stomach turns at the thought of a 145% tariff…If your business freezes the moment an invoice comes in over budget…If you're still just hoping your next Kickstarter will save your last mistake…Then what you have isn't a company. It's a countdown.
That’s why I wrote Game Changer.
Not to rant. Not to brag. Not to sell copies.
But to fill the massive void between “I have a great game idea” and “I know how to build a real, resilient company.”
Because right now, that gap is swallowing this industry whole.
The Missing Foundation
Game Changer isn’t a business book for people who already think like CEOs.
It’s for the creators, the visionaries — the people who never got the handbook because they were too busy making something cool. Like me.
It’s a reset button.
It says: Hey. Before you chase your next campaign…Before you announce your next SKU or expansion…Let’s stop.
Let’s build the foundation first.
Let’s answer the questions nobody’s been asking:
What is your company actually here to do?
What values do you enforce when nobody’s watching?
How do you define success in a way that makes sense even when your cash flow doesn’t?
This industry loves to talk about passion, product, and funding.
But it hates talking about structure, accountability, and systems —The things actual businesses live and die by.
The CEO Mindset: Weatherproofing Your Vision
Chapter 3 of the book dives into the mindset shift:
The moment where a hobbyist becomes a CEO.
It’s not about chasing every dollar or scaling like a Silicon Valley startup.
It’s about discipline.
Clarity.
Vision under fire.
Most of the damage I’ve seen — the broken promises, the failed projects, the lawsuits, the customers left holding the bag — didn’t come from malice.
They came from ignorance. From “winging it.” From good intentions with no follow-through.
And those good intentions?
They’re not enough when the tariffs hit.
They’re not enough when a printer botches your run.
They’re not enough when your fulfillment partner ghosts you or a backer campaign falls short.
You need margin.
You need process.
You need a company that isn’t dependent on everything going right.
That’s the core of Game Changer.
Not inspiration. Transformation.
You Don't Need Another Hit. You Need a Plan.
Some people are hoping tariffs will go away.
Others are hoping the U.S. creates the infrastructure to mass-produce board games.
Some are hoping this next game — this one right here — is the one that turns it all around.
Hope is not a business model.
If you're going to survive this next wave — and the wave after that — it’s not about having the best game.
It’s about building the best business to deliver that game.
And that’s why I wrote Game Changer.
So you don’t have to keep hoping.
You can start building.
My Own Wake-Up Call
I didn’t write Game Changer from a pedestal.
I wrote it from the battlefield.
Because I lived this.
High Noon wasn’t always a company.
It started like so many others do — as a passion project. A side hustle. A story I loved and a world I believed in.
I threw everything I had at it — energy, creativity, long hours, borrowed money, relentless optimism.
And for a while, that got me pretty far.
We had a successful Kickstarter. A growing fanbase. Expansion ideas. Momentum.
But the cracks were always there — under the surface.
No SOPs. No hiring standards. No accountability structure. No margins built for failure.
High Noon was built with passion — not infrastructure.
And eventually, that bill came due.
When it did, I had two choices:
Double down on the fantasy…
Or build something real.
So I stepped back.
I restructured everything.
I defined our values.
I established standards that even I could be held to.
I made the hard decisions. Fired people I liked. Rebuilt what I broke. And I separated my identity from the business, so it could finally stand on its own.
That process hurt.
But it’s the reason High Noon is still here.
It’s the reason I’m still here.
And it’s the reason I can now help others do the same.
Game Changer isn’t theory.
It’s what I lived. It’s what saved my business.
So Here’s the Reality Check
I said I wasn't ever going to write about tariffs. I'm not. So this section may reference them, but it's not about them. It's about Civics, a topic covered in a class most people checked out of in high school.
When I first published the original blog post, I never imagined it would go viral. It started making the rounds inside a familiar echo chamber — one that’s propped up by industry insiders who are often more interested in status signaling than substance. That’s when it landed in front of Jamey Stegmaier, who was in the process of writing his own blog about his decision to join a lawsuit… against Donald Trump.
In that blog, he referenced mine (though he didn't link to it like I linked to his) — and made the confident assertion that the tariff rate on board games is 145%.
Spoiler: That’s categorically false.
And we’ll break down exactly why later.
But in his attempt to suppress me, he unwittingly triggered the Streisand Effect and suddenly people started digging into what I had to say. The traffic exploded — and that’s when a fellow publisher found my work and reached out.
He had just shipped his container and had no idea this tariff issue had become such a powder keg. He’d read my blog and, initially, wasn’t convinced. But after a 90-minute phone call walking through my logic, he still wasn't convinced of the outcome, but he got it. He understood why my legal argument — grounded in WTO rules and statutory limitations — had real weight.
That’s when — in a CEO move — he emailed the U.S. International Trade Commission (USITC) himself and received an official — but non-binding — reply.
Here’s the screenshot of the USITC email he received.
Here’s what it said:
(1) The reciprocal tariffs implemented by the EO fall under the IEEPA authority.
(2) Products under the classification 9504.90.6000 imported from China do not appear to be exempt from the reciprocal tariffs.
That’s the email.
It’s not a ruling. It’s not CBP. It’s not enforceable.
But it is a formal government statement — and it’s enough to raise some real questions.
So let’s unpack it.
What That Does Say
The executive order is operating under IEEPA, not Section 301.
9504.90.6000 (board games) is not explicitly exempted.
What That Doesn’t Say
That 9504.90.6000 is listed under the 9903.01.63 classification.
That CBP has applied the 125% tariff to this code — only that it might.
That this is a legal determination — it’s an email, not a Customs ruling or judicial precedent.
So if you’re already sharpening your “gotcha!” knives — sit down.
We haven’t lost the plot. You’ve just missed it entirely.
What Actually Happened With the publisher
When the publisher reached out to me, his shipment had already left China.
He didn’t know who I was.
He hadn’t read my blog.
He hadn’t heard any of this analysis.
He just made the decision — on principle — to ship his games, fully expecting to eat a 145% tariff if he had to. Not because he wanted to, but because he had customers to serve, and he built his business to weather the storm.
That’s not something to criticize.
That’s something to learn from.
What He Could Have Done — And What You Still Can
Had the publisher reached out to CBP before shipping and requested a binding ruling, we’d be having a very different conversation right now. Because binding rulings give legal certainty — they establish the government’s position before money changes hands.
If you’re reading this before your shipment has moved — do this:
File for a binding ruling through CBP.
It’s free. It’s official. It gives you a legal leg to stand on when tariff bills hit.
If you’ve already shipped?
File a CBP Protest (Form 19).
Yes, you can challenge an overreach even after the fact — and we’re building the case you can use to do it.
Why Section 301 Still Matters — Even Under IEEPA
Some folks are saying, “But the Executive Order says IEEPA, not Section 301 — so WTO protections don’t apply.”
Wrong.
IEEPA allows the president to respond to national emergencies.
But even IEEPA doesn’t give limitless power.
Here’s the catch:
The 125% reciprocal tariff is targeting China — but it’s also impacting products with Most-Favored Nation (MFN) status.
Board games (9504.90.6000) fall under MFN classification.
And MFN goods are protected under WTO obligations — unless the U.S. government takes specific procedural steps to override that protection.
That’s where Section 301 comes in.
Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974 is the legal vehicle the U.S. has used to implement retaliatory tariffs while still (theoretically) honoring WTO commitments.
To enforce a tariff on an MFN good under 301, you must:
Publish a list of affected HTS codes
Provide a public comment period
Offer an exclusion process
Apply consistent enforcement
None of that has happened here.
So even if the tariff was slapped under IEEPA, it still affects MFN goods, which means Section 301 principles still apply — whether they admit it or not.
This isn’t just about what power was used.
It’s about how that power is supposed to be wielded.
So when Jamey says “The (unfortunately) correct number is 145%.” Jamey is (fortunately) 145% wrong.
What Happens Next — And What You Can Actually Do
Here’s the hard truth: the vast majority of publishers still haven’t had their containers hit with the 125% reciprocal tariff.
This is all speculative. Always has been.
But the containers are coming. And if no one steps in, Customs and Border Protection (CBP) will likely default to the most cautious interpretation of the executive order — that all Chinese-origin imports, including board games under 9504.90.6000, get flagged with 9903.01.63, even if that isn’t explicitly justified in the law.
Unless they’re told otherwise.
So here’s what we need to do — as an industry:
We need to open dialogue with CBP.
Not scream at them. Not complain about the tariffs. But ask them directly — with clarity and respect — whether this HTS code (9504.90.6000) is subject to 9903.01.63 and, if so, what legal basis exists for its inclusion.
Because if enough publishers ask the same question, backed by the same logic, CBP has incentive to clarify its position — through formal guidance or internal memos — before a wave of costly mistakes flood their entry system.
I’m Giving You the First Draft
To make that easy, I’ve put together a CBP Outreach Template — a clean, professional message you can customize and send to your regional CBP trade representative or port director. It includes:
The correct legal question
Citations to the Executive Order and tariff codes
Respectful but firm language asking for guidance
A request for clarification — not a demand
Download the Template Here 👇
This is not a legal filing. You’re not hiring a lawyer. You’re just showing CBP that people are watching — and they want to get it right.
We’re doing the work here so nobody has to go broke just trying to follow the rules. And this? This is how you run a real business.
CROSS Is Not the Law — Here’s What It Actually Is
As more containers land in U.S. ports and CBP begins making classification and tariff determinations under the reciprocal tariff schedule, importers and industry watchers may start seeing rulings appear in the CROSS (Customs Rulings Online Search System) database that seem relevant to board games or HTS code 9504.90.6000. Some may treat these rulings as confirmation or condemnation of everything we've been talking about.
That would be a mistake — and here’s why:
What CROSS Is:
✅ CROSS is a public-facing archive of CBP’s classification rulings made on a case-by-case basis, usually in response to binding ruling requests or entry-specific disputes.
✅ It shows what CBP decided at a specific point in time, based on the documentation provided by the importer and the facts as presented in that instance.
✅ It is a valuable reference tool to understand how CBP has interpreted certain classifications in the past, including product-specific details.
What CROSS Isn’t:
❌ CROSS is not judicial precedent. A ruling listed in CROSS doesn’t carry the weight of law or binding authority beyond the party it was issued to — unless it is officially published in the Customs Bulletin and left unchallenged for 60 days.
❌ CROSS does not speak to your product unless the details are exactly the same. A board game with cards and minis is not the same as a checkerboard with wooden tokens. Similar classification codes ≠ similar outcomes.
❌ CROSS does not override the law. CBP can and does issue incorrect rulings — and they are frequently overturned through protests or court actions. This is especially true in evolving policy environments like the one we’re in now.
Why You Shouldn’t Panic
If a CROSS ruling shows up applying 9903.01.63 to a game under 9504.90.6000, it does not mean your shipment must be treated the same way — especially if you can show your product was classified incorrectly or subject to improper code stacking.
And if you disagree with how CBP ruled on your goods? That’s exactly what Protest Form 19 exists for.
Understanding Protest Form 19: Your Safety Net, Not a Legal Labyrinth
If your board games are hit with a 125% reciprocal tariff under HTSUS 9903.01.63 — and you believe that was incorrect — you are not powerless.
You have 180 days to challenge the decision using CBP Form 19, the official protest mechanism.
Let’s break it down:
What Is CBP Form 19?
CBP Form 19 is the formal protest document used to challenge a customs decision — including tariff classification, valuation, or duty assessment — after your goods have entered the country.
It’s your right as the importer of record under 19 U.S.C. § 1514.
What You Can Protest:
Misapplied HTS code
Improper tariff stacking (e.g. 9903.01.63 on an MFN-protected code)
Misinterpretation of exemptions
Clerical or procedural errors in duty calculation
What It Costs:
$0.
There is no fee to file Form 19. You don’t need an attorney (though you can hire one), and you can file it yourself as long as you are the importer of record. If you hired a customs broker, they can help you — or you can ask them for a copy of the entry summary (CBP Form 7501), which you'll need for the protest.
What You’ll Need:
Entry Number from your shipment (from Form 7501)
Your reasoned argument, including supporting documentation (e.g. screenshots of published tariff tables, HTS annotations, legal excerpts)
Evidence that 9504.90.6000 should not be subject to 9903.01.63
Any applicable communication from CBP, USITC, or previous rulings (even CROSS references)
Timeline:
Deadline to File: 180 days from the date of liquidation (not arrival)
Typical Processing Time: 30–90 days
If Denied: You may appeal further to the Court of International Trade — but in most cases, especially with strong documentation, protests succeed or result in a partial refund.
Strategic Insight:
If you file a protest and back it with a well-documented case, you may not only get a refund — you can help shape CBP precedent for how these games are classified in the future.
I’ve created a downloadable Word document you can use as a template for filing a protest (Form 19) if your board game shipment was hit with the 9903.01.63 reciprocal tariff.
Download the Template Here 👇
This is not legal advice, and I am not an attorney.
This template is meant to offer a clear, structured framework to help you make your case based on current law and published rulings. You’re free to adapt it as needed — or have an attorney review it before submitting. But if you're feeling overwhelmed or unsure where to start, this should give you a solid launching point.
This Is How We Win
We don’t win this thing with Facebook threads.
We don’t win it with rage posts.
And we definitely don’t win it with lawsuits aimed at the wrong target.
We win with dialogue — open, direct, and consistent — with the agency actually making the decisions: CBP.
Because CBP isn’t our enemy.
They’re bureaucrats doing their job, working from guidance that can — and does — evolve when importers speak up and challenge classifications with facts, frameworks, and yes, Form 19.
If CBP is applying 9903.01.63 improperly to board games under MFN code 9504.90.6000, we don’t run to sue the President — we guide CBP toward correction.
And if CBP does push back… if they choose to ignore WTO obligations and MFN protections without providing legal justification, that’s when we have a case.
But not the one Jamey Stegmaier is pursuing.
Why Jamey’s Lawsuit Will Likely Fail
Jamey’s lawsuit is aiming at the executive order level — trying to overturn a presidential authority invoked under IEEPA.
That’s not where the real battle is.
Why?
Because IEEPA grants broad discretion to the President in matters of national emergency and trade retaliation. Courts rarely overturn this authority — not without extraordinary overreach or procedural failure.
Jamey’s suit might earn headlines. It might earn sympathy.
But it won’t earn a reversal.
The Case That Can Win
Instead, the real fight — the winnable fight — is in the weeds.
It’s about how CBP applies that executive order.
If CBP starts applying 9903.01.63 to MFN code 9504.90.6000 without listing it in the necessary annexes or U.S. Note 2 — and without publishing clear legal justification — they’ve overstepped.
That’s where the functional equivalence doctrine comes into play.
As seen in AAEI v. U.S., while the plaintiffs didn’t win outright, the court acknowledged that an agency can’t create binding legal effects while sidestepping public procedure and accountability.
Specifically, the Federal Court, through Judge Davis includes the following:
"We accentuate, again, that legislation conferring upon the President discretion to regulate foreign commerce invokes, and is reinforced and augmented by, the President’s constitutional power to oversee the political side of foreign affairs. [...] Of course, the President’s regulations must pertain to the general subject of the agreements, or else the President (absent another statutory authorization) has invaded a field granted by the Constitution to Congress."
If it walks like a rule, quacks like a rule, and binds like a rule — it is a rule. And it must be justified and published as such.
So if CBP starts treating board games like they’ve been officially subjected to reciprocal tariffs — without ever formally listing HTS code 9504.90.6000 — then what they’re actually doing is engaging in unlawful rulemaking.
Which is what I've been saying this entire time.
And that’s not just a procedural hiccup — it’s a direct violation of the Administrative Procedure Act (APA) and the statutory requirements surrounding tariff enforcement under Section 301.
To legally impose a reciprocal tariff on a WTO MFN code like 9504, the U.S. government must go through a very specific process. That includes:
Conducting an investigation
Publishing a proposed action for public comment
Providing justification and findings that clearly identify the products being targeted
Formally listing the code in an annex or published schedule
Allowing for review and response by affected stakeholders
Again...None of that has happened here.
So if CBP begins to assess a 125% surcharge on 9504 goods based on vague internal guidance or inferred intent, then they’re effectively creating new trade policy through informal directives — and that’s where they cross the line. The AAEI v. United States case showed that even when the President or an agency acts under broad statutory discretion, those actions must conform to the law when they functionally resemble regulation.
That is a case that can be won.
And if this industry wants a win, that’s the angle to take — not emotional appeals, not political lawsuits, but a focused challenge rooted in procedure, precedent, and due process.
Why We Called Out Jamey’s Lawsuit
Let’s set the record straight: We didn’t quietly pass on joining Jamey Stegmaier’s lawsuit.
We called it out publicly — because it’s political posturing dressed up as legal action.
His open invitation wasn’t about solving the problem. It was about making a statement — a broad, unfocused strike at the President’s authority under IEEPA, with no viable path to victory and no strategic groundwork to actually help the publishers it claims to represent.
We don’t need another symbolic gesture.
We need a real solution.
And if Jamey — or anyone else with real industry sway — wants to pivot and back a case that actually targets the procedural failure at CBP, the lack of guidance on MFN codes, and the improper application of tariffs under Chapter 99?
Then that’s a lawsuit we won’t just support — we’ll go to bat for it.
Publicly. Loudly. Unapologetically.
Because that is how we change the game
Game Changer
In the very first blog I ever published on this site, I laid out the six core values that drive everything we do at High Noon:
Inspiration. Discipline. Accountability. Transparency. Results. Alignment.
And if you’ve made it this far, you’ve seen each of those values in action.
We’ve been inspired by truth — not fear.
We’ve applied discipline — not desperation.
We’ve owned our errors with accountability and made our logic transparent.
We’ve pursued results — not rhetoric.
And we’ve remained aligned to what matters most: building something real, something lasting, something that works.
That’s why I wrote Game Changer. Not to complain about tariffs or fight online wars with publishers. But to offer a blueprint for turning hobbyists into CEOs. For turning passion into something that withstands pressure.
Whether or not you buy the book, I hope you’ll join the movement.
The movement to build smarter, stronger, more principled businesses.
The movement to stop reacting — and start leading.
The movement to Change the Game.