Cracks in the Ad Stack: Publishers Want Power, Not Just Promises

Publishers aren’t celebrating the Google antitrust ruling. It just confirmed their reality. From floor pricing frustrations to platform lock-in, they’re done waiting for structural change. They’re ready to reclaim control: one lever, one partner, one practice at a time.

It always starts with a sigh.

That moment in the conversation when someone drops the polite industry speak and says the thing we’re all thinking.

This time, it came from a publisher who’s been in the weeds long enough to know when a trend is just dressed-up déjà vu.

“We’re told to optimize, move fast, be on the forefront,” one publisher said. “But we’re stuck optimizing for systems we don’t control.”

Those systems, of course, are still run and ruled by Google.

A Ruling Isn’t a Reset

The DOJ’s ruling confirming Google’s ad tech monopoly may have made headlines, but in a recent publisher working group that I moderated, it landed with less shock and more shrug. 🤷🏾

It’s not that it wasn’t significant—it was. Every publisher in that Zoom room had already been living that truth for years. The DOJ just started calling the relationship between Google’s ad server and ad exchanger an illegal entanglement.

For Publishers, it was just any other Monday.

Big G owns the pipes, controls the water pressure, and bills you for access to both.

Publishers can’t easily choose an alternative path when everything is bundled, and preferential access to demand resides within a single, tightly sealed box.

“We’re still dealing with the same issues… nothing’s really changed,” said one ad ops pro.

What do publishers want now? They don’t need a legal win. They need a reset.

The Last Lever Left

Behind the industry’s big headlines are the quieter, grittier conversations happening on the ground.

Those are the discussions about floor pricing experiments, yield strategy tweaks, and the daily push-pull of trying to carve out control in a system built to keep it out of reach.

Let’s talk about floor pricing, for instance. Not exactly cocktail party chatter. But, in this Zoom room of ad ops executives, it was the heartbeat of the conversation.

Publishers are in the lab—adjusting floors for specific buyers, testing channel logic, slicing strategies by device and geography.

“With things like dynamic floors, A/B testing, various optimizations—whatever they may be—that is key to revenue,” one publisher said. And key to that work is understanding what is still within their grasp. “A lot of that is tied back to optimizations on what you, as a publisher, can control or not control.”

Control, of course, being the operative word.

“You just have to constantly be testing to understand how much value it continues to provide,” said another. Floors aren’t just math—they’re strategy. But even that lever comes with friction.

When the Floor Becomes a Ceiling

Unified Pricing Rules were mentioned more than once. So were SSPs layering their logic on top of publisher intent. “Some [SSPs] don’t even allow us to opt out,” one ad ops lead said. “And when we pass them a floor, they’re going to pass what they believe should be your floor on top of it to the buyer.”

“You can’t just let your partners be the ones dictating prices... once that happens, the floor isn’t a lever anymore. It’s a lock.”


That’s the tension. “You can’t just let your partners be the ones dictating prices,” someone else added. “Because once that happens, the floor isn’t a lever anymore. It’s a lock.”

And look, publishers aren’t trying to be heroes here. They want agency. The ability to define value, not just report on it after the fact.

They’re being asked to run profitable businesses in an ecosystem that feeds them obfuscation at every layer—and then asks why they aren’t optimizing better.

It’s not just floor pricing. It’s transparency. Or the lack of it. Reporting without real insight. Tools that claim to be data-driven but hand over dashboards so flat that they may as well be PDFs.

The Cookie Delay: Same Game, New Excuse

And then there was the cookie thing.

Of course, it came up. In a group of ad ops and revenue pros, why wouldn’t it?

Google hit the snooze button on third-party cookie deprecation again. Not one publisher in the Zoom Workspace even flinched.

They’ve been preparing for a post-cookie world since before Clubhouse launched—and yet here we are, still optimizing for a future that keeps getting rescheduled. Or, it may never happen.

“A week later, we get the announcement on the cookies… Part of me feels like Google is thrashing around in the waters,” said one ops lead.

Another publisher shrugged it off. “I’ve been working with cookieless technology companies for like, five years, since before COVID,” they said. “The one great thing about the cookie scare, if you want to call it, is that new technology emerged that had already been there, but got time to get some PR moments.”

So no, Chrome’s delay isn’t a reprieve. It’s just another reroute. And it shouldn’t change anyone’s roadmap.

Let’s not forget. Cookies were already dead on Safari. And Firefox. And CTV never ran on them to begin with. Mobile? That’s a whole other privacy play.

Post-Cookie, But Not Post-Work

Publishers are already living in cookieless environments—they’re just not calling it that anymore.

And the smart ones? They’re ditching third-party tools, requiring logins, and building owned infrastructure.

“You just have to build your own community. All of that has to come in-house and be part of your offering,” they said.

“I’m investing in a better first-party data strategy,” said another ad ops pro. “You just have to be ready for every side of it.”

It’s a practical move towards less platform dependency and more sovereignty.

And as for Google’s Privacy Sandbox? That was supposed to be the bridge. Instead, it’s starting to look like scaffolding around a plan that keeps changing.

As Andrew Byrd recently wrote on AdMonsters, the publishers who tested it didn’t waste their time, but they also aren’t waiting around. They’re building what they need now.

Control Isn’t a Concept. It’s a Commitment.

These aren’t isolated frustrations. They’re signals. Signals of a wider desire not just for change, but for control. Real control. The kind that lets publishers build infrastructure that serves their business, not someone else’s roadmap.

Because the cracks in the stack aren’t just technical, they’re existential.

There’s fatigue, yes. But also strategy. Movement. Publishers are choosing more direct paths. Reworking pricing logic. Saying no to partners who don’t share data or demand transparency.

“All I can do is affect what I’m responsible for. I can’t change everyone else’s mind.”


Not in a performative way—but in the quiet, calculated ways that signal a shift. “All I can do is affect what I’m responsible for. I can’t change everyone else’s mind,” said one publisher.

That shift in thinking? It’s not new. Some publishers made the call years ago.

“Controlling what we can control is what it is. But that’s also what we’ve invested in years ago… We went after the top of the food chain—which is Google.”

While others are focused on what they’ve already given away. “We’ve been giving away our data for free. I’d rather invest my time into working with every ID solution,” one ops lead said, referencing the five different pixels attached to nearly every direct campaign.

What I heard in this working group—beneath the fatigue and the familiar frustrations—wasn’t resignation. It was recalibration.

No More Waiting for a Better Stack

Publishers aren’t waiting for the landscape to stabilize. They’re stabilizing their own strategy. Building workflows and revenue plans that reflect the world as it is, not the one they hoped they’d have.

They’re not waiting for Google to crumble. They’re already reshaping their end of the stack, one lever at a time.

So yes, Judge Brinkema handed down a ruling. But publishers? They’re out here building something better—on their own terms, with tools they trust, and a growing refusal to play by someone else’s rules.

Because power isn’t in the promise.

It’s in the practice.