Category: Law & Policy

Yelp Claims Contradictory Rights

Chameleon photos by leisuretime70

Imagine Elizabeth Proctor runs a corner café in a small town and that Abby Williams has held a grudge against Elizabeth ever since the former beat her out for cheerleader captain back in high school.  So, feeling especially vindictive one afternoon, Abby writes a nasty review of Lizzy’s café on Yelp, complete with invented details about bugs and other health violations.  In response, Elizabeth sues Abigail for defamation and wins her case, and the court issues an injunction that includes an order for Yelp to remove the libelous reviews.  But the website refuses to remove the reviews even though they’ve been held to be defamation under the law …

Perhaps it’s folly to contradict the opinions of I don’t know how many attorneys who filed a dozen amicus briefs on behalf of Yelp in a case now heading to the California Supreme Court, but I’m gonna.  Because I believe the concerned parties—and this includes news media publishers whom I consistently support—may be overstating the hazardous implications of the California Appeals Court decision in the case of Hassell v Bird.

In 2013 Ava Bird posted negative reviews about San Francisco attorney Dawn Hassell on Yelp. Hassell believed the reviews to be defamatory rather than honest criticism. She sued Bird and won on a default judgment because Bird failed to appear in her own defense. Whether the reader would agree that Bird’s reviews were defamatory is immaterial at this point for two reasons: 1) the default judgment settles the matter as far as the law is concerned; and 2) in the context of what this case is now about, let us at least agree that online reviews can easily be abused by a bad actor, or a competitor, to defame a person or business.  (On a side note, Hassell’s firm has a lot of positive reviews on Yelp.)

In its judgment, the court issued an injunction, which included an order for Yelp to remove Bird’s reviews.  This is a standard form of relief provided by courts in such cases. When an entity is not a named party in a litigation (i.e. they bear no liability for any harm), but the non-party is indirectly supporting some harm being done, the non-party can be prevented from continuing to support the harmful conduct. (See earlier post about Equustek v. Google.)

A typical example would be a court order that Visa and MasterCard stop processing payments for a named defendant in a case, regardless of the fact that these companies bear no liability for any harm that may have been done to a named plaintiff. If you were harmed by defamatory statements on a web platform, and proved defamation in court, you would naturally want the material removed even if you would not—and could not—hold the platform responsible for the harm you received.

But when it comes to complying with this type of injunctive relief, the owners of web platforms get a little antsy; and this includes the news media platforms, who filed an amicus brief in this case emphasizing the importance of comment sections to the overall vibrancy of journalism in the digital age. Other amici, including the EFF, the ACLU, and several web platforms, all assert that if the injunction ordered by the California Court of Appeals is upheld, this will harm due process, free speech, and the liability shield in Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (1996) that is accorded to online service providers.

Although it is a habit of many site owners to behave as though the removal of any content is a slippery slope toward censorship, let’s remember that in just this one case, the plaintiff had to prove defamation in court and pray for injunctive relief—and that was in 2013, which is about 730 trillion tweets ago, just for perspective. But the real complication in this story comes when websites assert their interests under both the First Amendment and Section 230, because the two are fundamentally at odds.

First Amendment or Section 230:  Pick One

In simple terms, Section 230 of the CDA protects websites and other service providers from liability stemming from the actions of its users. The underlying premise for this protection is that the platforms and providers are not “publishers” of the content (i.e. they are not the speakers). Section 230 is an important protection and one that indeed enables sites to function without undue risk of litigation. But the amici filing on behalf of Yelp also claim that Yelp and all web platforms have First Amendment rights at stake in Hassell, and the problem is this:  if you’re not the speaker, you can’t claim a First Amendment right of speech because you’re not speaking! (read that as Lewis Black).

Yelp wants it both ways. They want the liability shield afforded by Section 230 on the basis that it is not the speaker but also want to claim First Amendment rights as if it were the speaker. Sometimes, web platforms claim to be protecting the free speech rights of their users, and this can be a valid claim in many instances.  In fact, this concern appears central to the news media sites, who unquestionably have a right to support the free speech inherent in the dialogue between their journalists and the readers who write comments. These parties even point to several intriguing statistics suggesting that reader comments can, in many ways, improve the quality of their own reporting; and this should not be undervalued.

Nevertheless, I would argue that a site like Yelp, which trades substantially in consumer reviews of businesses on a local level, is already a very different forum from the comments section of a news site. More to the point, it is a forum that is uniquely vulnerable to someone acting with malicious intent to defame a specific proprietor. It seems that it would be far easier to demonstrate how a libelous review might meet the standard of “defamation” under the law than it would be to prove that a comment on a news story rises to this level of harm.

Still, if a comment on a news site were to spark events akin to a “Pizzagate,” the party who wrote the comment can be sued; and the site(s) hosting the defamatory content should be ordered to remove it—though I would think they’d want to do so voluntarily for the sake of their own reputations.  What if Bird had said that Hassell was running a child porn ring through her law firm? Would we still be seeing the same response from Yelp and the other petitioners? Because from a purely legal standpoint, she might as well have written something equally outrageous since free speech does not protect defamation, regardless of how extreme or mild the defamation may be. And although it is true that websites often rightly defend the speech of their users, that motive simply does not apply in this case because Bird’s reviews became unprotected speech the moment they were held to be defamatory.

Section 230 is Not a Blank Check

The due process piece of this puzzle gets a little deep into the weeds, and I will admit that there may be procedural complaints at play of which I am unaware; but as a general observation, the crux of Yelp’s due-process argument here appears to be based on the same paradoxical premise that the site can be both a speaker and a non-speaker at the same time. For instance, I offer the following from Yelp’s brief filed in 2016:

“The court reached its conclusion only by pretending that Yelp is nothing more than the ‘administrator’ of its website, ignoring Yelp’s role as a publisher of third-party authored speech and its First Amendment right to control its own website. [Emphasis added]

The court of appeal combined its unwarranted rejection of Yelp’s due process and First Amendment rights, with an unprecedented narrowing of the previously robust protection provided by the Communications Decency Act, 47 U.S.C. § 230 (“Section 230”), to deny Yelp the federal immunity it would have received if Hassell had sued it. The court exalted the form of the action––namely, the fact that Yelp was tactically not named as a party—over the plain language of Section 230 and Congress’ clear intent in enacting it to protect websites from actions that treat them as publishers or distributors of third-party content.” [Emphasis added]

In paragraph one, Yelp is a publisher; and in paragraph two, it is not a publisher. Yelp asserts its First Amendment right to control its own website, which is certainly the case; but the liability shield provided by Section 230 is still predicated on the assumption that said control does not place them in the role of publisher (or speaker). But Yelp seems to be implying that if Hassell had named them in the suit–something she had no reason to do–they would then be defendants accorded a hearing and consequently have been able to argue their Section 230 right to not remove Bird’s reviews.

But nowhere in the statute is there any implication that a website does not have to comply with a court order to remove specific content, whether the site is a party or non-party to a litigation. In fact, the CDA actually began as an enforcement provision—a legislative effort to keep online pornography away from kids. Make of that what you will, but the addition of Section 230 was designed solely to limit the liability of service providers from any harm that may stem from content posted by third-party users. Neither its language nor its intent appears to excuse web companies from complying with generally applicable law; and an injunction directed at a non-party is a generally-applicable, standard form of relief. Website owners have no more right to ignore these orders than the payment processors mentioned above.

While I sympathize with some of the principles being argued by Yelp and the other petitioners–particularly those of the news media sites who are both publishers and hosts of third-party content–I believe the arguments being made are seeking a decision that would be unbalanced. Any party that is held in a court of law to be harmed by some conduct should have access to the same remedies in the digital age as in the pre-digital age. Moreover, the cost of causing harm via the web is virtually zero while the cost of proving harm under the law still requires a substantial investment of time and financial resources.  This alone should allay the fears of site owners that the decision of the appeals court in this case potentially swings the pendulum toward greater censorship online.

Critics Build House of Canards to Trash USCO Bill

Photo by jeancol1503

Well, here we go.  The network of copyright critics seems to be working out their main talking points for hating on H.R. 1695, which proposes to make the Register of Copyrights a presidential appointee (with Senate approval) rather than an employee of the Librarian of Congress.  Mike Masnick, founder/editor of Techdirt, has written a piece for The Verge that comprises (I think) all of the Greatest Hits from the anti-copyright songbook, including the popular jingle referred to in my last post about Mickey Mouse being the major force behind the 1998 Copyright Term Extension Act.

While it’s tempting to respond to each of the window-dressing fallacies deployed in Masnick’s article, it would also be tedious. (I just can’t come up with any more ways to mock the invocation of SOPA by that crowd.) As usual, Masnick wants to sell us an epic tale of Copyright vs. The Internet with statements like, “The copyright questions raised by the internet are existential.” He says this as though copyright law has never contended with technology before, or as if to imply that the internet is just a litigation or two away from being shut down.  And, of course, this “existential” threat will be masterminded by Hollywood and the RIAA through the new Register of Copyrights if the position were to become an appointee of the Executive.

This defies both historical evidence and common sense, concluding with the fact that the major rights holders are, at this point, all-in on this whole internet thingy. Like those companies that said “no thanks” to Trump’s EPA rollbacks because they’ve already invested substantially in going green, the proverbial, sinister Hollywood really has no interest in “breaking the internet.” Again, in reference to my last post, how much has Marvel invested in growing its franchise just on the Netflix platform alone?  Right. So, let’s put the doomsday hyperbole back in the crazy drawer where it belongs and talk about reality.

Politicizing to Criticize Politics

Masnick asserts two big bullet points in this article, one which coincides with one of EFF’s first responses, and one which coincides with Representative Zoe Lofgren’s testimony on Capitol Hill.  (Rep. Lofgren (D-CA) represents Silicon Valley’s district and is highly critical of copyright.)

The first major point Masnick (and the EFF) asserts is that if the Register position were to become a presidential appointee, this would “politicize” the role more than it already is and make the Register more vulnerable to industry influence.  With regard to bi-partisanship, the bill was introduced by Representatives Goodlatte (R-VA) and Conyers (D-MI) and passed out of committee with a vote of 27-1.  But beyond Congressional consensus, this “influence” allegation is an interesting one coming from a crowd that has already accused the last Register (by way of a smear campaign) of being about as subservient to major rights holders as one might imagine.

Nevertheless, Masnick et al seem to feel the next Register could “go to eleven” and be even more extra totally double-secret “captured” by Hollywood. And the way this will happen is by reorganizing the USCO relative to the LOC.  It’s an argument based on innuendo, laced with emotional triggers for readers (see references to SOPA & Disney); but there is no substantive case being made as to why this reorganization will increase the potential for inappropriate deference to major rights holders.

Let’s clear something up right now.  If you have a fairly high-profile job in the federal government, your role is at least a little bit political.  The Librarian can be politicized as can the Register of Copyrights no matter where he/she sits on the org chart. So, can we cut to the chase and just say that Masnick and other copyright critics are especially opposed to this change at this time because they see Dr. Hayden as a fellow copyright skeptic, and they would really like her to perhaps appoint another skeptic as Register?  In other words, they’re more than happy to have the role politicized as long as it furthers their view of the right agenda.

Meanwhile, there is no reason to assume that a supposedly “more political” pendulum will inevitably swing toward major rights holders like Hollywood studios. After all, the current President has a guy named Peter Thiel among his top advisors who absolutely espouses a world view consistent with the views of the internet industry.  I don’t see anyone from the recording or motion picture industries with such close ties to the White House at the moment; but this bill doesn’t actually give that much power to this or any other President. H.R. 1695 gives more power to Congress (ergo more public oversight than the status quo), and an amendment added by Rep. Jackson-Lee (D-TX) requires that the President choose a Register from a list of candidates approved by both the Congressional leadership and the Librarian of Congress.

As for who might end up on that list, it’s worth noting that in the quiet reality behind all this drama, there are probably a handful of candidates in the country who most copyright experts would agree are even qualified for the job.  Some of these favor stronger copyright protections, others favor copyright’s limitations.  Some are more ideological, others more centrist than the public might expect. And here’s a little secret:  they generally know one another, are in contact with one another, and respect one another’s differing views.

Misrepresenting the Role of the USCO

The second point Masnick stresses in his article is less speculative but not actually relevant to the purpose of H.R. 1695; and it is predicated on a misunderstanding about the role of the Copyright Office. He writes:

“Managing copyrights — effectively a giant database of creative works — is very much a librarian-centric job. Librarians are custodians of information, helping to catalog and organize it while also helping people research and find what they’re looking for. The Copyright Office today, like many old libraries, is filled with card catalogs.”

For a guy worrying about politicizing this issue, this is pure spin. In fact, Masnick is actually mirroring a tactic employed by Rep. Lofgren, who has tried to make this organizational change a referendum on Librarian Hayden herself. First, Masnick wants readers to think of the USCO as performing a library-like function; then he wants to point to past failures to properly modernize that function; and finally he wants to say that Dr. Hayden—and nobody questions that she is highly-qualified in her field—has a plan for modernization that will be disrupted by this organizational change.

But the Copyright Office is not a “giant database of creative works.” The complex, consultative function on copyright policy provided by the CO is an essential role performed by dozens of professionals with vastly different expertise than librarians. And both copyright experts and policymakers have known this for a long time.  To the extent that former Register Pallante, former Librarian Billington, or any past office-holders, are responsible for failures to implement IT initiatives, that’s on them and their tenures; but this has no bearing on the rationale for making the organizational change proposed in H.R. 1695. Moreover, former Representative Howard Berman (D-CA) writes the following in an editorial for The Hill:

“Claiming, for example, that former Register Pallante had done nothing on IT modernization rings hollow when it was Pallante who initiated and implemented a public consultation process, which led to publication of the most forward-looking IT modernization plan in the history of the Copyright Office.

The Library has thus far blocked implementation of that plan. While GAO reports have catalogued IT shortcomings at both the Library and the Copyright Office, these reports acknowledge that the problems at the Copyright Office are relatively few. Indeed the GAO has concluded these problems stem from the much larger, fundamental problems with the Library IT department, to which the Copyright Office is beholden.”

This suggests the very plausible conclusion that any past IT implementation failings were at least shared between the Copyright Office and the Library, and this provides no more grounds to abort the organizational change than it would be reasonable to hold Dr. Hayden responsible for past project-management problems.  Still, the over-simple argument Masnick wants to make is that a librarian will be better at the physical, data-management aspect of Copyright Office modernization.  Of course, that’s not why he and his colleagues are criticizing this bill. They’re hoping instead that Dr. Hayden will take a more hands-on approach to copyright policy, which has never really been a role the Librarian has played before or since the USCO was first established.

Masnick and other critics want to argue that the functional relationship between the Register and the Librarian is something more intrinsic than a circumstance of history that occurred 120 years ago.  But this simply isn’t the case.  As I’ve noted in other posts, the first Register was appointed in 1897 after influencers like Melville Dewey envisioned a new, national leadership role for the Library of Congress.  (And Dr. Hayden seems exceptionally well-suited to continue that vision.)

This change in direction for the Library led to the creation of a separate office for handling copyright registrations and, in a fledgling way, advising Congress on copyright policy. No Librarian ever truly performed the function of national expert on copyright as this would be inconsistent with both the function of the Library and the evolution of copyright law in the mid-late 19th century.

Right from the start, the Librarian and the Register were divided according to both function and expertise; and those roles have continued along separate, though related, paths as each department has grown. Attempts to frame this long-overdue, organizational change as a power-grab by Hollywood are unsupported by both history and by the process Congress is implementing to effect this change.

On the SCOTUS Cheerleader Uniform Ruling

Last week, the Supreme Court ruled in a copyright case that addresses the principle of “separability.” This is one of those areas of IP that a colleague of mine would call the “metaphysics of law,”  and that’s not a criticism.  In fact, I happen to think the more subtle aspects of copyright—the ones that challenge judges to weigh esoteric ideas like “art” or “originality” are actually part of the fun for nerds like me.

At issue in Star Athletica v. Varsity Brands are designs for cheerleader uniforms.  Both Star and Varsity make these uniforms, and when Star apparently copied some of Varsity’s designs, Varsity sued for copyright infringement.  But fashion is not protected by copyright, you say.  And that’s true. Mostly.

Clothing is a category of what the law calls “useful articles,” and as a rule, we do not want copyright’s exclusive protections to stifle the production of everyday items like clothes, furniture, coffee mugs, and earbuds. In the case of wardrobe or fashion, for instance, one may not copyright the shape or cut of a dress or pair of pants.  One can easily see how this would choke an industry of producers making garments for customers who generally conform to a consistent humanoid structure.  It’s why every fashion maker, from couture to K-Mart, can offer the market a version of the proverbial “little black dress.”

Separability considers whether or not a “pictorial, graphic, or sculptural” (PSG) work, which would be eligible for copyright protection, can be imagined as separate from the useful article.  For instance, in the world of fashion, a designer may create a copyrightable, abstract design that is then reproduced as a textile, which is then used to make a skirt.  Because that textile design is protected by copyright, and because one of the exclusive rights of copyright includes “the right to reproduce the work in or on any kind of article, whether useful or otherwise,” this is one way in which a clothing designer can, in a limited way, copyright fashion.

Because the designer may not copyright the actual cut, shape, or materials used for the skirt itself, the two interests are balanced.  The “useful article” is still free to be copied by anyone, but an article that copies the protected work of art may only be used by license of that creator.  Clearly, the protectable design is understood to exist separately from the article of clothing and can easily be imagined reproduced in some other form—as decorative art, wallpaper, coasters, mousepads, etc.

This example seems the most instructive in understanding the rationale applied by the majority in Varsity, although the consideration is very subtle to the casual observer for two reasons:  1) the designs used by Varsity are only marginally original—stripes, chevrons, and such; and 2) because it is a little difficult to imagine these designs in any context other than cheerleader uniforms, which are unquestionably “useful articles” not protected by copyright.  Justice Thomas explains the second of two prongs applied in weighing separability thus:  “The decision maker must determine that the separately identified feature has the capacity to exist apart from the utilitarian aspects of the article.” The majority opinion states …

“… if the arrangement of colors, shapes, stripes, and chevrons on the surface of the cheerleading uniforms were separated from the uniform and applied in another medium—for example, on a painter’s canvas—they would qualify as ‘two-dimensional . . . works of . . . art,’. And imaginatively removing the surface decorations from the uniforms and applying them in another medium would not replicate the uniform itself.”

The crux of the dissenting opinions of Justices Breyer and Stevens holds that these designs cannot reasonably be perceived as separate from the uniforms. The dissenting opinion states …

“Were I to accept the majority’s invitation to “imaginatively remov[e]” the chevrons and stripes as they are arranged on the neckline, waistline, sleeves, and skirt of each uniform, and apply them on a “painter’s canvas,” ante, at 10, that painting would be of a cheerleader’s dress. The esthetic elements on which Varsity seeks protection exist only as part of the uniform design—there is nothing to separate out but for dress-shaped lines that replicate the cut and style of the uniforms.”

Justice Ginsberg concurred with the majority judgment but not with its opinion, stating that in her view, it was not necessary to consider “separability” in this case at all. “Consideration of that test is unwarranted,” she writes, “because the designs at issue are not designs of useful articles. Instead, the designs are themselves copyrightable pictorial or graphic works reproduced on useful articles.”  In Ginsberg’s view, because Varsity’s designs begin first as illustrations that are protectable by copyright, then the right extends to the reproduction of those works onto uniforms or anything else, as would be the case in the textile example I presented.

How Significant is This Case?

Mike Masnick at Techdirt offers his own analysis along with his concerns that it could be “potentially very dangerous to a variety of innovations.” In particular, he refers to the growing market for 3D printed “useful articles,” but I suspect Masnick’s fears are unwarranted because I believe he errs in two ways—one historical, the other analytical.  With regard to the former, it remains to be seen how instructive this decision really will be to future cases weighing “separability.”

Although Justice Thomas states that the Court granted cert in Varsity “to resolve widespread disagreement over the proper test for implementing §101’s separate-identification and independent-existence requirements,” this case is also the latest in a very long narrative of American intellectual property law, going back to at least the mid-19th century when the courts were weighing decisions that helped clarify distinctions between patent and copyright. These specialties were a little blurrier in the first half of America’s first century.

For instance, in the 1872 case Baker v. Selden, the author of a book describing his own accounting system (it was really his widow) pursued a judgment that would have exceeded the purview of copyright because the claim was seeking protection for the accounting system itself.  If anything, the Selden accounting system might have been granted a patent (and it wasn’t), but the Supreme Court affirmed that a copyright in a work, like a book, “…does not extend to any  ‘procedure, process, system, method of operation’ embodied in such works, any more than to any ‘idea,…principle, concept or discovery’ in them.”

Here, I am partly quoting a 2004 paper about Baker v Selden, written by law Professor Pamela Samuelson at UC Berkeley, in which she notes that the same question of copyright’s limitation in Varsity goes all the way back to this case. She writes, “Baker also lives on in the statutory rule that denies copyright to pictorial, graphic, or sculptural works having functions beyond conveying information or displaying an appearance (e.g., clothing and chairs), as well as in the rule that copyright in a drawing does not create rights in useful articles depicted therein.” (Emphasis added)

As a scholar who leans more toward limiting copyright, Professor Samuelson may disagree with the opinion in Varsity (I cannot speak for her), but I cite her paper to emphasize the historical context for these considerations.  Suffice to say that when we get into the separability of copyrightable elements in useful articles, we’re deep into the metaphysics of IP law; and future courts may continue to wrestle with this same question on a case-by-case basis regardless of the majority opinion in Varsity.

Can This Ruling Be “Dangerous” to 3D Printing?

There may be some way in which this decision will adversely affect some future innovation in the 3D printing world, but if this is true, I think Masnick needs a better example than the one he chose for his analysis. Citing a product called the “Birdsnest Eggcup” by designer Studiogijs,  Masnick labels the test applied in Varsity as a “copyright first” approach to separability, which he contrasts with his own notion of a “useful first” approach. He then signifies the difference between the two by asserting that the former produces more copyrightable elements than the latter and that this greater mass of copyright, if you will, is where the potential danger lies for innovation in 3D printing.  I think this analysis is flawed.

Masnick suggests that, by applying the test used in Varsity, separability would insist that the egg cup could be deconstructed into individually copyrightable parts. He is correct to say that the Court would allow the useful article to be deconstructed to the point of uselessness under it’s test, but I believe he is incorrect to suggest that any copyrightable work may be substantially deconstructed into parts that are each individually protectable by copyright.  One may not, for instance, break a novel into separate phrases and then copyright each phrase.

The arrangement of elements is an essential aspect in assessing “originality” under copyright, and the idea/expression distinction (which also harkens back to Baker) is why another creator is free to make and sell a different birds nest egg cup as long as it is different enough from the one made by Studiogijs.  At least that’s true insofar as copyright is concerned.  (Studiogijs may be eligible for a design patent in this case, but I am unfamiliar with the boundaries of that area of IP; and it is not germane to the SCOTUS ruling in Varsity.)

Studiogijs “Birdsnest Egg Cup“

The egg cup, with its arrangement of branches and perched little bird, could easily be copyrighted as a sculptural work regardless of whether or not it is ever marketed as a “useful article.” Additionally, the design could be reproduced in some other form, for example as a 2D illustration and printed on coffee mugs to go with the breakfast set. This does not mean, however, that each branch, or segment of the original work could be protected by copyright in an actual litigation.

This is because the bar of minimal originality is counter-balanced by the fact that the less original (i.e. more minimal) a work is, the more subtly distinct a similar, subsequent work can be without infringing.  In the Varsity case, this means that Star Athletica should be able to make designs that are quite similar, but not identical, to Varsity’s uniforms because Varsity can only claim copyright in its precise arrangement of commonly-used design elements.  The same principle applies to the birds nest design whether it’s useful as an egg cup or not.

Or to look at this in context to Masnick’s notion of a “useful first” test, the egg cup could utterly fail in its marketed purpose to hold eggs, and that fact would have no bearing on the copyright in the object as a sculptural work.  In fact, a competing designer could theoretically make a birds nest egg cup that customers find functions better as an egg holder and so threatens Studiogij’s market.* And if Studiogijs chose to pursue a copyright claim in response, it could not hope to assert multiple copyrights in each design detail of its product.

Instead, the court would compare and contrast the two sculptures as whole works to determine the amount of similarity that the second bears to the first; and separability would probably not even be an issue in the case.  In this regard, I fail to see where the concern lies that Masnick is raising.  Nothing in copyright, before or since this ruling, would prevent another 3D producer from making a different egg cup that looks like a bird’s nest, and which competes with Studiogij, as long as it does not copy Studiogij’s design.  This is well-traveled copyright territory.

Finally, for what it’s worth, I think the elegance of Justice Ginsberg’s opinion in the Varsity case should help allay fears about the effect this ruling might have on future innovation.  Her view that Varsity’s design work was copyrightable and then reproduced onto useful articles applies to the birds nest egg cup; and it would apply in so many probable scenarios in which form meets function, that I doubt we will see a measurable increase in new barriers no matter how “useful articles” are made.

* NOTE: This is all hypothetical, nothing I’m saying in any way implies a review of Studiogij’s product.