Don’t Blame Internet Culture on Copyright

In response to a recent social media dustup, Mike Masnick writes on Techdirt, “…we’ve got quite a story today about how copyright is a total mess and not really fit for the way the internet works today.”

To his credit, Masnick does a solid job describing both the circumstances and the legal mechanisms relevant to a conflict that arose when a media company called Barstool Sports published a video made by writer/performer Miel Bredouw without permission, even posting the work as though it were their property.  But I disagree with Masnick that this is a tale about why copyright is a “total mess” because it’s really a tale about why social media is a total mess with a twist—that when anti-copyright pundits describe weaknesses in the law, they may inadvertently point to how it can be strengthened.  In fact, the lessons to be learned from this anecdote are instructive in ways I’m not surprised Masnick overlooked because, as I see it, this is a tale of two appropriations, and the contrasts between them are significant.

To recap as briefly as possible, Bredouw had an afflatus.  She noticed that the lyrics to “Slob on My Nob” by Three 6 Mafia fit rather neatly into the melody “Carol of the Bells” and decided to demonstrate this by recording herself performing the musical mashup in a brief video she posted to her YouTube channel.   Barstool Sports—run by a group of dudes who seem to be universally recognized as assholes—published Bredouw’s video to their Twitter account as though it were their own (i.e. uncredited).  When Bredouw asked that they credit her, she was ignored and so responded by submitting a DMCA takedown notice to have the video removed.  Twitter processed the notice and removed the video, and then Barstool got bitchy.

Apparently not the company’s first copyright strike, and seemingly fearful that their account could be terminated, Barstool sought to convince Bredouw to rescind her takedown notice by engaging in a fairly typical evolution of behavior, escalating from apologizing to begging to harassing her on all her social media accounts with bro-fans insisting that she stop ignoring Barstool’s demands for resolution.  At the begging stage, Barstool even offered Bredouw $2,000, which she waved at on principle.  

Thus, Barstool took its only course of action to mitigate the copyright strike and filed a (technically invalid) DMCA Counter Notice.  By statute, the counter-notice procedure requires that a platform restore an allegedly-infringing file within 10 days, unless the copyright owner provides proof that they have proceeded with legal action against the alleged infringer.  

Clearly, an underlying factor in this case is that Bredouw did not (and would never) register a copyright in her brief video performance; but that doesn’t make the story any less instructive.  At the same time, it should be noted that were this a conflict that could lead to litigation, Barstool Sports would very likely be held to have violated the law under penalty of perjury when it filed an invalid counter-notice to restore a video it had no reason to claim was removed in error.  

A Tale of Two Appropriations

It is a fun fact that tech pundits, including Masnick, have spent years attacking copyright on behalf of appropriations like those made by Bredouw while ignoring the much more problematic appropriations like the one made by Barstool.  Bredouw made use of two creative works* and combined these in a recorded performance that, under slightly different circumstances, would likely be considered fair use as a parodic commentary on both works and distributed in a manner that is not likely to cause harm to the market value of either work.  In short, it is the kind of creative expression the anti-copyright crowd loves to cite anecdotally as evidence that, “on the internet we are all creators,” meaning that people like Bredouw should not be targets of takedowns.

But the thing is that most copyright owners do not have a problem with uses like Bredouw’s video.  They often enjoy these mashups and parodies; and even when they don’t like them, many copyright owners are well-enough informed about fair use to let such uses remain online without response.  But the outright theft of material made by a commercial enterprise, like Barstool simply taking Bredouw’s video, is exactly the kind of appropriation that tens of thousands of copyright owners have a huge problem addressing online.  Just ask any composer or professional photographer how often they find a business entity using their work, without license, for marketing purposes.

Meanwhile, inasmuch as Masnick is willing to call the dudes at Barstool a bunch of asshats, he does not take any responsibility for playing a substantive role in evangelizing the very culture that results in their behavior.  The anti-copyright, sharing-is-caring, everybody’s-a-creator-now bullshit that Techdirt, the EFF, et al have been slinging into the atmosphere for years is constituent to the fact that even mainstream, commercial operators feel entitled to just take creative works and tell authors to go screw themselves.  In general, the copyright critics have been claiming to speak for the Bredouws of the web while (perhaps inadvertently) empowering the Barstools all along.  

So, one simple response to this type of appropriation is a change to the internal culture and practices of business enterprises.  If Barstool found itself inching toward account termination for accumulating too many copyright strikes, one solution would be to stop using material they know is not theirs! (No doubt there’s a sports analogy that would explain the concept.) But of course copyright owners cannot rely on commercial users to just do the right thing.  So, then what?

Well, oddly enough, Masnick provides one clue when he writes, “But what if it’s the counternotice that’s bogus? That’s… trickier. As the law is set up, then the only response is to sue.”  He’s absolutely right.  The counter-notice procedure, as it stands, leaves small and independent copyright owners with a nearly-toothless remedy in the DMCA; so perhaps this is one area of the 1998 statute that is overdue for revision.  For example, if a platform is allowed to review and reject a takedown request that looks illegitimate, why can’t it do the same thing with a counter-notice?  

That said, while I would disagree with Masnick’s use of the term “total mess” in this case, he is correct to imply that neither copyright law in general, nor the DMCA in particular, can adequately protect the limited scope of authorship entailed in Bredouw’s small video against a corporate entity’s smug appropriation of her work.  The DMCA simply was not written to anticipate small-scale appropriation of works that authors would never register for copyright.  And while it is admittedly not easy to develop an ideal—let alone universal—solution to address this strata of infringement, that is no excuse to call copyright wholly incompatible with “the way the web works today,” as Masnick claims.  

To the contrary, the way the web works today for countless copyright owners, whose works are registered, is that the DMCA is a game of chicken the rights holder plays with the infringer in which the latter often assumes that the former lacks the resources to sue.  Meanwhile, the major platforms have reaped the rewards while pundits like Masnick have told the rights holders to “quit whining and embrace the future.”  

Really?  Because stay tuned.  The conversation about “the future” is already shifting from the appropriation of someone’s video or song or photograph to Silicon Valley’s disruption of food, medicine, transportation, infrastructure, etc.  So, maybe if we fix (meaning strengthen) copyright enforcement online, that policy process will provide some clues as to how we might avoid careening into a state of technological feudalism.  


*For the purpose of this discussion, the copyright status of “Carol of the Bells” is irrelevant. 

Also see Rick Sanders’s post.


Busy Copyright Week Update

Though most people can be forgiven for missing it, two Supreme Court Decisions and a District Court granting a motion for summary judgment made a fair bit of copyright news this week.  In a pair of unanimous decisions the Supreme Court settled two statutory disputes relevant to a rightsholders’ ability to enforce his copyrights.  And pursuant to findings at the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, the District Court for the Central District of California granted a motion for summary judgment against VidAngel for its infringement of major Hollywood motion pictures.

“Registration” Means USCO Approval 

In Fourth Estate Public Benefit Corp. v. Wall-Street.com, Justice Ginsburg wrote the opinion holding that there is no way for the Court to read the copyright statute §411(a) other than to mean that the Copyright Office must grant Registration of a work before a rightsholder may litigate to remedy an alleged infringement.  

This decision resolves a court split over the issue, with the counter argument contending that filing the application is tantamount to “registration” and that a rightsholder should be allowed to proceed with legal action while the USCO is processing the application. Ginsburg and the other eight Justices found that reading of the statute unpersuasive, but the opinion also recognizes the practical challenge faced by rightsholders given that it takes an average six to seven months to receive a Certificate of Registration.  

This is especially acute in a time when online infringement may be almost instantaneous, and it is not impossible that there may be some legislative response to address these issues, not the least of which would be increasing resources for the USCO.  That said, the House Judiciary Committee does seem a little busy right now.  (See further discussion here.)

“Full Costs” Means Less Full Than Some Hoped

From the opposite ideological end of the bench, Justice Kavanaugh wrote the opinion in Rimini Street v. Oracle USA, another unanimous decision settling yet another statutory interpretation, this time §505 pertaining to the meaning of the term “full costs.” At issue was the question as to whether recoverable legal costs under the copyright statute may extend beyond the six categories of “taxable” costs that a court may award to a litigant in a copyright case. 

After Oracle prevailed in its copyright infringement suit against Rimini Street, it sought $12.8 million to recover its costs for expert witnesses, jury consulting, and e-discovery, which are not enumerated under Title 28 federal statutes pertaining to the types of costs a claimant may recover.  For context, I recommend Kevin Madigan’s analysis posted at the Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property, in which he contends that this decision is an incomplete reading and, as a practical matter, may disadvantage defendants as well as complainants in copyright cases. 

VidAngel’s Flight Seems All But Over

Finally, in the major motion picture studios’ case against VidAngel, a California District Court, finding no triable issues of fact, granted the studios’ motion for summary judgment this week.  As described in posts here and here, VidAngel is the VOD service that provided unlicensed streams of major motion pictures with options to “filter” out the naughty bits—sex, swearing, blasphemy, etc.—its base of customers preferred not to see or hear.  

Although filtering is permitted by law with devices designed for that purpose to be used in one’s own home, VidAngel endeavored to construct a convoluted business model in order to contend that its process of copying, filtering, and streaming films to customers for what amounted to rental fees was nothing more than an extension of the individual consumer’s right to filter.  All of the sanctified streamer’s defenses failed, and the company is held to have infringed the studios’ exclusive rights of reproduction and public performance as well as violated the anti-circumvention provisions under §1201 of the DMCA for decrypting DVD and Blu-Ray disks in order to create the files necessary for its service.

I may write a more extensive post about the outcome in VidAngel, which is an instructive case on a number of levels, but one that sticks out at the moment is the company’s attempt to assert fair use in defense of its circumventing DRM pursuant to the DMCA.  As the District Court notes, there is no fair use defense for violating §1201, though one could easily make this mistake based on the confusion and debate surrounding this statute.  

The distinction is that the Copyright Office has granted exemptions from the provisions of this section of the DMCA for specific uses (e.g. education, commentary, research) that are likely to be fair uses.  This is not the same thing as asserting a fair use defense for circumventing DRM for a purpose not already exempted by the USCO.  And VidAngel’s purpose in making entire motion pictures available (minus a bit of skin and a few curse words) does not come anywhere close to being considered for such an exemption.

The Internet is Not (and never was) Paradise

I was reading an editorial the other day written by Stephen Witt for NPR shortly after the passing of John Parry Barlow in 2018; and it occurred to me that internet activists seem to fit one of two profiles—Mourners and Evangelicals. And both are full of shit.

Witt does an excellent job summarizing the early barefoot wanderings of the college-dropout, Grateful Dead lyricist, turned techno-libertarian prophet who would eventually co-found the Electronic Frontier Foundation …

It was 1985, and Barlow, not a computer person, did not know what “online” was. But he wangled an Internet account out of a Stanford academic — they were not available to the general public at the time — and began to anonymously visit Deadhead forums on Usenet, one of the earliest hosts for Internet discussion. Despite an apparently fatal lack of any STEM education, Barlow grasped the technology’s potential. “I had a religious experience upon encountering what was a very small online environment,” he said. “I felt that what I was looking at was something profoundly different than anything that had happened in the history of the human race.

The spirit of Witt’s article Tech Utopianism And Our Walled Gardens: Is It Time For A Jailbreak? places it among the many laments for the internet as a paradise lost.  Like other articles of its kind, Witt’s homage to Barlow harkens to an ideal that never existed—a cybernetic Eden, where the purity of human mind and spirit might have remained unsullied had it not been for the original sin of commerce that cast us into the hyper-monetized, surveillance-capitalized, barely-civilized landscape dominated by today’s billion-dollar platforms.  

Not surprisingly, Witt alludes to the fact that copyright infringement was a foundational rite of the new cyber-religion evangelized by the prophets; and it is just a little too perfect that, as an ambassador of the Dead (the most famous band to encourage bootlegging its live performances) Barlow and disciples viewed intellectual property theft as a pathway to the promised land …

… if information was instantly reproducible at no cost, only by creating barriers to open communication between private individuals could the now-artificial scarcity of copyright be maintained.  A true cyberlibertarian — and perhaps we should call him an anarchist — Barlow took the extreme position, denying that the state had the authority to limit peer-to-peer communication. This necessitated an abandonment of the concept of intellectual property, even if that proved corrosive to both the profit margins of large corporations and the meager income streams of small songwriters, including Barlow’s own.

I will admit that my cynicism here is colored by the fact that a world resembling an endless Dead show is my own version of Hell, but personal taste is also germane to the broader point that utopias always fail because they presume to impose a monolithic world view on everyone.  (One man’s Paradise is always another’s Purgatory.)  And that presumptuousness is certainly a running theme wherever digital activism embraces the anti-copyright agenda—too often insisting that all artists must adopt the “sharing” attitude espoused by The Grateful Dead, overlooking the nagging bugaboo that choice is the foundation of liberty.  

So, in regard to the internet writ large, Witt’s elegy fits the profile of the Mourner’s view of cyberspace—a resignation to the fact that utopia is gone and can never be rediscovered, and that any hope of building Paradise anew should be abandoned.  We cannot return and so might as well unplug. 

But while the Mourners have discarded the hope of returning to the Eden that never existed, their idealistic rhetoric remains in Activist 2.0—the Evangelicals, who now defend the status quo of the corporatized internet despite the fact that it allegedly destroyed the original garden in the first place.  The Evangelical is easy to spot.  She still clings to that original Barlowian sacrament of “sharing” content and responds to any proposal to protect copyright owners by declaring that [Insert policy here] will destroy the internet as we know it! 

Of course, the whole narrative is a lie—from Barlow’s catharsis to the present battle over the “soul” of the web.  As investigative reporter Yasha Levine states very pointedly…

…the truth is that EFF is a corporate front. It is America’s oldest and most influential internet business lobby—an organization that has played a pivotal role in shaping the commercial internet as we know it and, increasingly, hate it. That shitty internet we all inhabit today? That system dominated by giant monopolies, powered by for-profit surveillance and influence, and lacking any democratic oversight? EFF is directly responsible for bringing it into being.

Hence, the too-common refrain that we might “destroy the internet as we know it” is an odd rhetorical tactic insofar as it is not at all clear, from any point of view, why the internet we have is something worth preserving.  As a general observation, why is it rational to assume that the function of the internet, which has largely been ceded to the management of Google, Facebook, Twitter, et al, is exactly perfect as is and should never be changed?  By what measure, other than Big Tech’s profits, have we supposedly achieved our digital apotheosis?

Never mind the fact that protests against any type of copyright proposal invariably resort to hyperbole and disinformation (see claims that Article 13 will “kill memes”), but even if some new proposal were to change the internet, so what? As naive as I think the Barlow-worshipping purists were/are in the first place, we can at least all agree that their internet is not the internet we have, that the internet we have is dominated by big corporations and, therefore, hardly sacred.

That being the case, contemporary digital activists should drop the quasi-religious overtones when debating policy—stop talking about the internet as though it were holy ground that cannot be disturbed.  It is worth keeping in mind that every time the artists and creators have inveighed against their rights being trampled by the big internet platforms, the digerati have presumptuously lectured them that “change is good.”  Indeed it can be good.  And right now, what needs changing is the internet as we know it.