“Where AI merely assists an author in the creative process, its use does not change the copyrightability of the output. At the other extreme, if content is entirely generated by AI, it cannot be protected by copyright.” – Copyright and Artificial Intelligence Part 2, Copyrightability, USCO –
Last week, the U.S. Copyright Office released Part 2 of a planned three-part report on copyright and adjacent IP matters concerning the use of artificial intelligence. The new report expresses the Register’s views about the copyrightability of works when they are produced in some way with the use of AI. In summary, the Office reaffirmed the doctrine that human authorship is required for copyright to attach to a work at all; that copyright should not protect expression created by generative AI; and that the use of assistive AI should not disqualify a work for copyright protection.
Before proceeding, it’s important to remember that the question of copyrightability, or “authorship,” with AI tools is separate from the legality of unlicensed use of creative works for the purpose of “training” these models in the first place. As argued in other posts, most machine learning (ML) with unlicensed protected works should be held to be mass copyright infringement and should not be exempted under the fair use doctrine. Nevertheless, on the assumption that AI tools for creative work will continue to exist, the question of copyrightable authorship with these technologies is an important and ever-evolving doctrine.
Generative AI (GAI) and Copyrightability
The most difficult copyright question regarding generative AI (GAI) concerns works made with a combination of human-authored and AI-generated expression. As the Office report emphasizes, the question itself defies bright-line guidance because it is inherently a case-by-case, fact-intensive consideration that can only be weighed in the courts. That said, the report expresses a general view that GAI apps do not presently allow the user sufficient control over the expressive results to claim ownership in the outputs.
While the Office recognizes that selection and arrangement of GAI material can meet the threshold for copyrightability, and it leaves open the possibility of technological advancements to enable greater “control” of GAI tools, the report argues that GAI is presently a “roll of the dice” as a creative process. “No matter how many times a prompt is revised and resubmitted, the final output reflects the user’s acceptance of the AI system’s interpretation, rather than authorship of the expression it contains,” the report states. Acceptance is described as “authorship by adoption,” which is roughly the equivalent of claiming copyright in a work one finds rather than creates.
What this means as a practical matter is that creators may claim protection of their expressive contributions to works that include GAI material, but the latter should be considered unprotected and, therefore, disclaimed in a registration application. We shall see whether the courts agree with the Office, most immediately in the case Allen v. Perlmutter where Jason Allen argues that the nature and variety of prompts he used for his visual work were not like rolling dice but were instead deliberate steps toward creating his mental conception of an image.
Regardless of how Allen is decided, it will only be the first major litigation addressing the mixed human/AI question at issue. This highly subjective consideration will remain a case-by-case matter for the foreseeable future, even if certain GAI apps provide greater “control” for users per the Office opinions.
Assistive AI (AAI) Does Not Limit Copyrightability
“The Office agrees that there is an important distinction between using AI as a tool to assist in the creation of works and using AI as a stand-in for human creativity.”
As a creator, I appreciate the Office distinguishing GAI from assistive AI (AAI) and stating that the latter should generally not disqualify works from copyrightability. For instance, if one uses AAI to expedite color correction in a group of photos or to more efficiently check and make grammar recommendations for a manuscript, one need not disclaim the use of AI in these contexts. Likewise, it is important that the Office recognizes that AAI used within a larger work (e.g., to fix a scene or create an effect in a motion picture) is not a basis to limit the protection of the whole work.
While there may be lines inevitably crossed (e.g., an AI suggests, and the writer copies, whole paragraphs in a text), this would arguably be a case when AAI becomes GAI. Nevertheless, resolving protection in this gray area of authorship is likely a matter best left to the courts and not a line easily drawn by the Copyright Office. In practice, even if I did use AAI in my own work, I would not disclaim that use in a registration application, but if I allowed AI to truly write some material, I would disclaim that and not submit a fraudulent application.
Creators should remember that under Unicolors v. H&M, an innocent error on a copyright registration application is not a basis to void the registration. It is important to make a good faith effort to claim the human-made expression and disclaim the AI-generated expression, but the Supreme Court set a precedent that creators should not be penalized for an imperfect understanding of difficult questions of law when submitting an application.
It is understandable, of course, that creators want certainty, but in this report, I think the Office provides sound guidance for the moment while cases like Allen work through the courts. It would not be acceptable to simply default to protecting all GAI material while so much “AI slop” floods the market and, among other things, threatens to undermine the incentive purpose of copyright. For the author using AI in conjunction with her own talents and expressive capacity, we are at the leading edge of this discussion. For context, publishing has existed for a few centuries, but defining “publication” in U.S. copyright law still defies bright-line definition to this day. Hang in there.
“One might expect a 140-year history of Supreme Court precedent would have led to a grant of summary judgment below, sparing everyone unnecessary time and money,” states the brief for Jeffrey Sedlik to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. “Copyright infringement should have been decided by the district court as a matter of law, not at trial by a poorly-instructed jury swayed by a celebrity defendant.”
Jeffrey Sedlik v. Katherine von Drachenberg should have been an easy case. Tattoo artist Kat von D copied photographer Sedlik’s 1989 photograph of Miles Davis as a tattoo and also displayed the photograph in social media photos and videos featuring the production of the tattoo as promotion for herself and her business High Voltage Tattoo.
In 2017, Kat von D made the Davis tattoo on the arm of her colleague and friend Blake Farmer. She could have studied any number of photographs of the jazz artist as references and then inked her own portrait, but instead, she traced and copied Sedlik’s photograph in detail, thereby producing a derivative work without license. Upon discovery of the social media posts, Sedlik reached out to Kat von D to discuss the use of his photograph and was rebuffed. He then filed the first copyright suit in his career, which includes serving as an expert witness in hundreds of copyright cases. He took legal action because he believes artists should respect one another and obtain permission to use works when it is appropriate to do so.
As the quote at the top of this post states, the case should have concluded at summary judgment with an easy finding in Sedlik’s favor. Instead, a jury wound up deciding that 1) the tattoo is not substantially similar to the photo (ergo non-infringing); and 2) several of the social media posts made fair use of Sedlik’s photograph. Sedlik filed an appeal with the Ninth Circuit in October, citing errors of law by the lower court, including faulty jury instructions.
Although courts are appropriately cautious about overturning jury decisions, the appellate court here should agree that the lower court made unfounded legal decisions (and oddly dismissive comments) that were prejudicial to the outcome. Highlights include the court’s failure to properly weigh substantial similarity as a matter of law; excluding Sedlik’s expert testimony at trial about photo licensing; and electing not to communicate to the jury the court’s own findings on fair use, thereby leaving the entire fair use inquiry to the jury, which is inconsistent with precedent.
As one example implicating a confused jury, the Sedlik brief notes, “…the jury determined that eight [social media] posts that were found to be not substantially similar were a fair use, a legal impossibility that the district court would later find to be ‘contrary to the form’s instructions.’” [emphasis added]. This legal impossibility is one of several head-scratchers in the administration of this case, yet the appeal has inspired three amicus briefs* in favor of KVD written by Professors Pamela Samuelson, Rebecca Tushnet on behalf of several law professors, and Christopher Sprigman with Molly Van Houweling.
I am unfamiliar with Van Houweling, but the other three are all prominent copyright critics, and if I can read between the lines, the three briefs express dismay with the Goldsmith v. Warhol decision because it stopped fair use from swallowing the derivative works right. Copyright critics don’t like the derivative works right, and so, each brief targets Sedlik’s underlying complaint from three different perspectives—on fair use, substantial similarity, and (believe it or not) standing.
The Tushnet Brief
Professor Tushnet and amici argue that the jury was properly instructed and arrived at a reasonable finding that the tattoo is not substantially similar to the photo. To support this view, the brief cites a litany of cases in which substantial similarity was not found because, as Tushnet states, “there can be copying without infringement.” Yep. There sure can. Just not in any of the case law relevant to Sedlik.
I agree with the brief that the courts should first focus on substantial similarity before getting bogged down in fair use. In fact, I have stated in other posts that if Warhol had been a substantial similarity case instead of a fair use case, I could see a plausible argument that Andy Warhol did not copy the protectable expression in Lynn Goldsmith’s photograph, but this same consideration is not nuanced in Sedlik. Kat von D painstakingly copied the expression in the Davis photograph, and Tushnet’s list of cases in which defendants’ works were not substantially similar offers no authority for finding lack of substantial similarity in this instance. For example, the brief highlights Rentmeester, in which the photographer of an iconic photograph of Michael Jordan unsuccessfully sued Nike for producing a photo and now-famous logo known as “Jumpman.”
Rentmeester demonstrates that, for instance, the plaintiff cannot protect the idea of a basketball player jumping toward a hoop with his legs posed in a jeté. And the Tushnet brief is right that this is a good example of some copying that is not enough copying to find infringement. Yet, one struggles to see how Rentmeester is instructive to Sedlik where we see meticulous copying of the protected expression. Kat von D shared images and video of herself tracing Sedlik’s photograph and stated publicly that she copied the image “100%.” But at trial, she sought to emphasize small changes made during the process of creating the tattoo.
Likewise, the Tushnet brief overstates the relevance of Kat von D’s “changes,” many of which are necessitated by the medium of drawing with ink on skin, and none of which excuse the substantial amount of copying that is plainly visible to an ordinary observer. The lower court, at various stages of its inquiry, and then by punting questions of law into the jury box, appears to have directed improper attention to the minor distinctions between the two works rather than the obvious and important similarities.
Because the Tushnet brief cites multiple cases of non-infringement that are not analogous to Sedlik, this implies criticism of copyright in photographs, which, as Sedlik’s brief notes in preface, has been settled law for 140 years. In fact, although it is true (as the Sprigman brief discusses) that the derivative works right was not statutory law in 1894, the Tushnet analysis suggests that the Supreme Court in that year should not have seen infringing copying of the photo on the left in the lithograph on the right:
The seminal Burrow-Giles v. Sarony decision, affirming copyrightability of photographs, was not a substantial similarity case, but there, the infringing lithograph is also different in several ways from the photograph—differences that are, again, partly necessitated by the medium. One could even argue that Burrow-Giles did not as precisely copy Sarony’s expression of Oscar Wilde as Kat von D faithfully copied Sedlik’s expression of Miles Davis. For instance, the face of Wilde is quite different in the lithograph, and if Burrow-Giles were litigating today, perhaps they would try to argue that those differences negate substantial similarity or favor transformative fair use.
But as the Sedlik brief states, “It defies one’s eyes and the law that there could be any result other than summary judgment in Plaintiff’s favor.” If Tushnet et al. argue that the von D tattoo is not substantially similar to the Sedlik photograph, then it seems they believe that only literal copying is a basis for infringement—i.e., that Sedlik’s right to prepare derivative works should be narrowed to the point of irrelevance.
The Samuelson Brief
Professor Samuelson’s brief addresses fair use, which can only refer to the jury’s finding that some of the social posts displaying Sedlik’s photograph were fair use.[1] In summary, she argues that 1) juries can properly decide fair use where facts are in dispute; and 2) the Warhol decision does not disturb fair use findings where the secondary use does not comment on the work.
Samuelson also misstates that Sedlik requested that the jury decide fair use and now appeals because he does not like the outcome,[2] and she implies that Sedlik’s claim of infringement would require a narrow application of fair use inconsistent with the Supreme Court’s holding in Warhol and Google v. Oracle. By my lights, the Samuelson brief argues a straw man because nothing about Sedlik’s claim is inconsistent with Warhol—and Google is inaptly cited.
As noted in several posts, Warhol reaffirmed the principle that when one creator uses the work of another, finding transformative fair use requires a colorable claim that the follow-on use express some “critical bearing” (i.e., comment) about the work used. Kat von D cannot plausibly argue that the social media posts displaying the Sedlik photograph express any commentary about the photograph itself. Display of the photo was done solely to promote Kat von D and High Voltage. Consequently, both the transformative question and the commercial purpose of the posts should have been found to favor Sedlik on factor one without going to trial.
To emphasize my point that this is a straw man brief, I note that Samuelson states, “Warhol also made clear that ‘targeting is not always required, highlighting that uses unrelated to criticism or commentary—such as those that facilitate interoperability or reveal new information about the original work—can also be fair.” That is absolutely true and utterly irrelevant in this case. Samuelson refers to software “interoperability,” as weighed in Google v. Oracle and to “revealing new information,” as considered in Google Books, neither of which has much to say about cases where one artist copies or uses the work of another artist.
Samuelson and Tushnet, in their joint brief to SCOTUS in Warhol argued against the “critical bearing” doctrine, favoring the broader discussion of fair use articulated in Google v. Oracle. But because computer code (at issue in Google) is highly utilitarian, its protection fosters a tension in copyright law that is distinct from the more common considerations presented in cases like Sedlik. The “critical bearing” doctrine may be characterized as “narrowing” by advocates for broader fair use, but that does not make Sedlik’s arguments against fair use inconsistent with Warhol or the substantial volume of similar cases. Samuelson’s brief is consistent with her views on fair use, but, like the Tushnet brief, it cites to authorities that do not apply.
The Sprigman/Van Houweling Brief
This brief is a doozy. It can arguably be read as a companion to the ALI Restatement of Copyright Law (led by Sprigman), and it proves the point that copyright critics really do not like the derivative works right. Because forget substantial similarity and fair use. Professors Sprigman and Van Houweling argue that under the Supreme Court’s 2021 ruling in TransUnion v. Ramirez, copyright owners lack standing to sue in federal court unless they can prove “concrete injury” (i.e., monetary harm) caused by the alleged infringement. I know this is how some people think copyright works, or how many believe it should work, but this brief seeks to unravel the law as it does work.
The TransUnion opinion holds that just because Congress writes a statute allowing for remedies in federal court, this does not excuse a plaintiff from showing a concrete injury, even when he can show a statutory violation. One can imagine how this ruling could be applied to standing in copyright claims, but only if the courts agree that failure to obtain permission/license is not a concrete harm, or if they agree with this brief that violation of some of the exclusive copyright rights in §106 should be accorded less weight than violation of others.
The brief states, “It is doubtful whether a presumption of harm should apply at all to copyright claims, like Sedlik’s, that do not involve the reproduction and distribution of a copyrighted work as such, but rather its use in a derivative work.” Amici imply that the courts should dismiss, or view skeptically, a failure to license as a concrete harm when the use at issue results in a derivative work. To be fair, here is Sprigman and Van Houweling’s fuller description:
If a derivative is close enough to the original that it competes with it, or perhaps preempts a product or licensing market that the author might otherwise plan to enter, then the derivative work at issue may harm the original author. In such an instance, if the copyright law did not reach conduct in this category, we might fear overall harm to author incentives to create. However, if—as is the case here—the derivative “is not closely similar to the original, does not compete with it for audience patronage, and does not preempt a market that the original rightsholder realistically is positioned to exploit, then the existence of the derivative is unlikely to harm the original author.
Once again, suggesting that the tattoo is not “closely similar to the original” is an insult to empirical evidence. But beyond that, amici misstate the consideration of market harm in general and Sedlik’s claim in particular. Licensing creative works for uses the author may not actively pursue or anticipate describes the nature of the potential market in which the copyright owner may choose to participate.[3] Failure to license by the user of a work is a concrete harm as a matter of law, whether the unlicensed use is the result of literal copying, preparing a derivative work, or violation of any of the making available rights in the Copyright Act. This is why, under fair use factor four, the courts consider whether the unlicensed use at issue, if it were to become widespread, would cause significant harm by persistently depriving the copyright owner of fees to which he is entitled.
But under the theory of the Sprigman/Van Houweling brief, TransUnion must upend the practice of copyright law by, among other things, overwriting fair use factor four case law, abolishing statutory damages, and at least weakening the derivative works right. Only a narrow group of rightsholders would be allowed to file suit by showing actual financial damages caused by an infringement stemming from reproduction or distribution of literal copies.
Sprigman/Van Houweling would leave independent and developing creators out of the copyright system altogether, while the owners most likely to have standing would be parties like private equity firms that have bought large catalogs of works whose value is easier to quantify. It is notable, though not surprising, when the anti-copyright crowd, which claims to advocate democratic values and fairness, would propose an interpretation of the law that can only benefit the wealthiest and most powerful copyright owners.
Further, amici’s application of TransUnion to copyright would vitiate any basis other than proven monetary harm for rightsholders to control uses of their works. For example, the author who does not want a motion picture adaptation or a sequel made from her novel; the musician who does not want certain politicians using his songs in campaign ads; the artists who do not want their works used for any form of advertising would be unlikely to show “concrete harm” for violation of those choices under this brief’s interpretation of TransUnion as follows:
If harm caused by violation of the copyright owner’s right to exclude is not generally presumed to be irreparable, then absent some showing that such harm is irreparable in a particular case, it is, by hypothesis, reparable by money damages—if it is harm at all.
Turning down a use that would otherwise be licensed—I doubt Sedlik would license the Davis photo to the KKK at any price—is a right retained by the copyright owner. And if the rejected party uses the work anyway without permission, Sprigman and Van Houweling suggest that the owner cannot sue for infringement because he not only did not suffer monetary damage, but he turned down monetary gain!
The copyright owner retains the right to select which parties, and under what circumstances, derivative works may be created, and unlicensed derivatives can devastate the author’s opportunity to create the derivative works she prefers—including projects that may be more lucrative than those she turns down. Thus, any limiting of the author’s right to choose how her work is used for derivatives forecasts myriad results that would easily meet the definition of concrete harm.
Notably, despite arguing that Sedlik does not have standing, Sprigman and Van Houweling do not ask the court to toss the whole case but instead write that the court can “avoid the constitutional questions” by upholding the jury’s decision below. How does that make sense? As long as amici are writing a brief that is unlikely to make much legal headway, they might as well stick to their guns. If they truly believe Sedlik doesn’t have standing, why ask the court to affirm the outcome?
Conclusion
For Jeff Sedlik’s first (and perhaps only) copyright case as a plaintiff, he drew a strange hand. In what should have been short work for the court, the legal questions are straightforward with ample precedent for guidance. I strongly suspect the Ninth Circuit will reverse and remand based on evidence that the lower court committed errors of law. Meanwhile, it is not surprising that some of copyright’s most notable critics were inspired to argue that the aberrations in this case reflect copyright law as they would see it applied.
[1] The appeals court may reverse the finding on substantial similarity and also opine on the question of fair use with respect to the tattoo itself.
[2] Samuelson elides the fact that this request came from counsel whom Sedlik immediately replaced for making that unauthorized request, after which, Sedlik corrected the record with the court.
[3] A friend of mine received word from officials in the UK that they wanted to use one of his photos on a stamp, and he certainly never saw that opportunity coming.
*NOTE: A fourth brief was submitted by Authors Alliance, but 1) this post is long enough; and 2) their argument mirrors the “narrowing fair use” claim alleged by Prof. Samuelson.
Many copyright scholars refer to England’s Statute of Anne (1710) as the “first authors’ copyright law,” but I quarrel with that summary. In that year, and for many decades to follow, English “rights” for authors were too intertwined with the Crown’s authority to sanction publication of works for us to think of the Statute of Anne as affirming copyright rights as we understand them today. Although the administrative mechanisms of the Statute of Anne did inform the first U.S. Copyright Act of 1790, the “democratization” of authorship, which tech companies like to claim as incompatible with copyright law, was baked into American copyright as part of a novel Constitution expressing fundamental rights in a context to which no other nation on Earth could claim precedent.
Article I, Section 8, Paragraph 8—the progress clause—is a declaration of hope, to echo a sentiment of Elizabeth Wurtzel’s. While most of the roughly three-million Americans were farmers with little formal education, the progress clause (or IP clause) expressed an ambition that America would eventually produce its own literature, scholarship, and invention. But significant distinctions between the new U.S. and England (and other parts of Europe) established American copyright law as egalitarian and democratic.
First, the government was not granted authority by the Constitution to sanction or deny publication. Second, the speech, press, and establishment clause exerted considerable force upholding the author’s right to express himself. And finally, the European tradition of art and science patronage by the nobility could not become dominant in either the economic or political composition of the young nation. For better or worse, even with its imperfections, professional authorship in the U.S. would be subject to the democracy of the market, and the copyright rights vested in the individual author were, and remain, the sole basis for a fair-trade relationship with that market.
Enter Big Tech and their big bullshit word “democratization.” They love this term because, like so many in its bag of rhetorical tricks, it sounds progressive, egalitarian, and even anti-corporatist, which is funny coming from the most powerful oligarchs since Vanderbilt and Rockefeller. They even claim to have democratized democracy, and indeed, they may well have democratized it all the way to authoritarianism. So, when Big Tech says “democratization,” it is always a grift, but it is still worth understanding how the rhetorical meaning has shifted in reference to authorship and creative work.
Distribution, Derivatives, & Data
Until generative AI changed the dialog in the last few years, the claim that “democratization” was antithetical to copyright tended to focus on attacking distribution rights or the derivative works right. Distribution rights, according to Big Tech, were only administered by “rent-seeking gatekeepers,” thereby rationalizing mass piracy followed by the arrogation of distribution to streaming platforms as new intermediaries. The result was platforms “democratizing” far more revenue out of creators’ pockets than the allegedly outdated models.
The other rhetorical use of “democratization” tended to focus on the alleged injustice of the copyright right of the author to prepare (or authorize) derivative works. This battle was fought in public over the proposed cultural value of “remix,” a pet project of Lawrence Lessig, and which fostered a lot of assumptions and misstatements in the blogosphere about fair use doctrine. That battle was settled, at least as a matter of law, with the outcome in AWF v. Goldsmith, which rescued the derivative works right from being swallowed by overbroad application of fair use.
On a more subtle level, Silicon Valley advocates also argued that digital modes of production are inherently easier and cheaper (neither of which is necessarily true) and, thus, it was argued that digital tech both “democratizes” production and justifies rethinking legal protection of the works produced. Likewise, anti-copyright academics, on behalf of Big Tech, have argued that unprecedented data-driven market analysis lowers the risk of production, which, again, supposedly demands rethinking the purpose and application of copyright law.
These and other variations on the theme that tech “democratizes” now coalesce and mutate around the argument that GAI is important because it “enables everyone to be a creator.” Hence, “gatekeeper” intermediaries like record labels are no longer the only “barriers to progress” because now, the professional creator who spent years perfecting her craft is accused of elitism for trying to protect the exclusivity of her art. This argument is absurd on its face because, of course, typing a few prompts into Suno to produce a guitar riff ain’t gonna make you Mark Knopfler. And in this sense, GAI is to creativity as the “democratization of information” is to expertise. Indeed, everyone using Midjourney can be a visual artist the same way that everyone using Google search can be an epidemiologist.
It is notable that “democratization” is the same con game, whether the subject is creative work or information because the constitutional purpose of copyright law was established to “promote science.” This is not to say that the Framers intended to exclude fiction or poetry or fine art from copyright law, but by any interpretation of the word “science” from the period, it is fair to say that the Framers hoped later generations of Americans would be creative and intelligent. And, yes, it was imagined and hoped that creative and intellectual contributions might one day come from any citizen. That was “democratization” circa 1790 whereas Big Tech’s application of that word, a euphemism for exploitation, has not been wholly beneficial for either democracy or intelligence or creativity.
The Illusion of More is my personal blog from December 2011 to December 2025. As of February 2026, I am no longer posting new blogs or other content, but I hope you enjoy this archive. Please do not attribute any of my writings here to my current or previous employers.
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