Category: Intellectual Property

The Innovation Act is Anti-Innovation

Google remains the third largest corporate lobbyist in the country, spending a reported $4.62 million in the second quarter in Washington, with Amazon, Facebook, and Apple spending a combined $6.07 million in the same period.  Naturally, each company has its own interests—Facebook would like more skilled immigrants in the U.S. and Amazon wants to deliver goods by drone—but all of these tech giants, according to this story in Wired, have urged lawmakers to support a patent reform bill called the Innovation Act (HR 9).  Of course, the names of bills can be terribly misleading sometimes. Because, as far as I can tell, the Innovation Act is fundamentally anti-innovation.

At its core, HR 9 is meant to rid the patent system of the dreaded Patent Troll, who—like its cousin the Copyright Troll—will enforce a somewhat flimsy claim in some constituent patent it has no interest in developing, but pursues the case solely for the purpose of extracting money from an entity that is developing something new.  Even strong patent proponents will admit that bad actors exist—bad actors exist in every system—but that trolls are the exception not the rule, and more importantly, that the Innovation Act is based on a definition of “troll” so broad as to potentially disenfranchise many legitimate inventors.  In essence, the passage of HR 9 would be a rather sad comment on the fundamentally American rationale that established the intellectual property clause in the first place — the assumption that a great idea might come from anywhere.

The central problem with the way Silicon Valley interests are portraying the need for reform, according to Professor Adam Mossoff at the Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property at George Mason University School of Law, is that so many of the arguments are predicated on what he calls “junk science.”  Mossoff criticizes inaccurate studies of patent litigation, which have led to defining the term “patent troll” so broadly as to threaten a hugely inventive sector of the American market.  In legal lingo, the colloquial troll is generally referred to as a Non-Practicing Entity (NPE), but much of the data used to support reform proposals will define NPEs as “any entity that derives the majority of its revenue from patent licensing activities.”  As Mossoff—and former patent judge Paul Michel—will point out, this would include universities, start-ups, biotech firms—literally any entity that has the capacity and resources to invent but not the resources, structure, or expertise to develop, manufacture, distribute, and market. To quote Mossoff, “…the definition [of the NPE being applied] is so broad that it renders the results of its study completely uninteresting, unremarkable, and predictable – it’s like saying that 90% of people who sue over an auto accident own cars.”

If a doctor has a concept for a new medical device, both she and the public are going to benefit faster in most cases if the device is sold or licensed to a company that already has the resources to bring the instrument to the market.  Perhaps this same doctor will create a business entity that goes on to invent or improve several other medical devices, but which only ever sells the licenses for those products because it doesn’t make sense to become manufacturers.  Why should this innovative company’s patent interests be weakened by the fact that it would be defined as a Non-Practicing Entity?

In fact, where proposals like HR9 appear to lead is to further exacerbate the central hazard in the U.S. market, which continues to favor the massive corporation over the entrepreneurial endeavors.  It puts giant corporations at an unfair advantage—as if they didn’t already have an advantage—when it comes to licensing or exploiting the intellectual property created by individuals, start-up entities, or R&D-based institutions like universities.  Not only does this seem as though it would accelerate the disastrous trend of wealth consolidation, but it also appears to undermine the central, democratic principle that genius may come from the humblest corners of society and should be rewarded when it does.

On this note, I also have to point out that the arguments for this proposed reform to patent law sound a little too app-centric for our own good.  In large part, the aims of the “reformers” appear to be predicated on software and other innovations that tend to have short lifespans in the market–transformations measured in months in contrast to patents that last years.  And while I understand how distracted we can be with all the shiny objects that dance around on our little screens—giving us new ways to spy on ourselves for data mining companies; to hook up for casual encounters; to order a car service; or to play games on the crosstown bus—we should remember that there’s a lot of lower-tech invention and development that needs doing around here, even in the computing world.  We still need a greener energy paradigm, still have aging infrastructure, healthcare needs, security issues, outdated transportation systems, and growing concerns over resource management.  The inventions inherent in addressing any of these and other long-term challenges may well be in the minds of people whom HR 9 would define as future “patent trolls.”  That doesn’t sound like progress to me.

Orphan Works Rumor Not Helpful

Okay.  A bunch of my artists rights friends and colleagues need to take a breath, because some of you are doing exactly the kind of stuff we hate when the tech industry exaggerates or fabricates negative aspects of copyright.  In the last 24 hours, I’ve encountered a handful of artists rights proponents sharing links and comments proclaiming that the Copyright Act is about to be overhauled, that there is an Orphan Works proposal before Congress, and that visual artists in particular must immediately write to the Copyright Office by July 23rd to make their voices heard on these matters.

Stop.  Breathe.  None of this is true.

First of all, the Copyright Office is seeking input from photographers and other visual artists in order to gain insight as to how this class of creators might better monetize their works, enforce their rights, and more easily register works in the digital age.  The office is soliciting comments in the interest of better protecting creators’ interests, and this July 23rd request has nothing to do with Orphan Works, even if there were such a proposal on the Hill—which there is not.

As for Congress, the Judiciary Committee began holding hearings in April of 2013 as the first step in a comprehensive review of the Copyright Act, and the last of those hearings was held in April of this year.  Congress has thus far listened to 100 witnesses and, as stated by Chairman Goodlatte, “Over the next several months, the Committee will be reaching out to all stakeholders to invite them to share their views on the copyright issues we have examined over the course of our review so far, as well as any others.”  In case you’re unfamiliar with the sound, that’s the proverbial wheels of justice grinding slowly, which is what they’re supposed to do. (Okay, it’s a bit of a mixed metaphor for the legislature, but you get the idea.) It’s also worth noting that the last revision of the Copyright Act took several decades, and the outcome of this review process may not be a rewrite of the law. Hence, nothing is moving as rapidly as your Twitter and Facebook feeds.

The purpose of this review—hence the word review—is not to debate any specific changes to the law, but to assess the Copyright Act in a contemporary light and to hear testimony from experts and stakeholders with differing views as to the strengths and weaknesses of the law in our new technological times.  As such, there is neither an Orphan Works bill nor any other proposal before Congress to amend the Copyright Act. Not yet. Those days may come, and artists and creators should certainly remain involved when they do.

Artists and creators have typically been shouted down or bamboozled by heavily-funded corporate shills and the nouveau-savant within academia, who for various reasons have jumped on a bandwagon of hostility toward intellectual property.  They are the hysterics. They are the ones who cry SOPA every time anyone thinks to protect IP in the digital age. They are the ones who deflect any attempt to impose civil law upon Internet companies by manufacturing a backdoor conspiracy involving a pair of congressmen and a bag man from the MPAA.  Creators cannot afford to to play those games, not least because the antagonists to the interests of creators are masters at exploiting the hypocrisy of others while admitting no such errors in themselves.

Stay involved. Stay the course.  But stay informed.

Right to Jailbreak Auto Software May be a Moot Point

Last month, a good friend of mine — an attorney who works in intellectual property and believes in its value — shared a brief post from BoingBoing by Cory Doctorow criticizing efforts by the auto industry to enforce the copyrights on software, now intrinsic in any contemporary vehicle, in order to limit consumer choice in the marketplace. In this case, Doctorow calls out GM for its efforts to stop the Copyright Office from granting an exception to the DMCA that would allow owners of GM vehicles to jailbreak the software, thus enabling them to perform their own diagnostics and maintenance at home, or to use non-GM-authorized service providers and parts. Such restrictions, increasingly asserted by automakers, are seen as a prime example of industry abusing intellectual property rights as protectionist measures to restrict liberty and limit competition.

Certainly, my pro-IP attorney friend shared the story with the comment that she feels automakers are overreaching; and, in this regard, she is consistent with most copyright advocates as well as the courts, which have generally favored competition when other industries have tried to use DMCA anti-circumvention measures to control the market.  So, in this particular moment in history, the complaint is understandable; though the conversation itself, I believe, raises a much broader and more interesting subject beyond contemporary copyright, begging the question as to exactly what kind of future it is we think we’re building?

In fact, Cory Doctorow himself is one of the more prominent voices presently insisting that those of us who still place considerable value on copyright and IP in general are anachronisms. We are told that we are metaphorically “clinging to the buggy whip industry while automobiles pass us by.”  But in his criticism of restrictions on jailbreaking contemporary cars, I have to ask exactly who’s clinging to the past here? Because the more our automobiles become sophisticated computers on wheels, and most especially if we are serious about migrating toward a future of driverless (or diver-optional) cars, it seems to me these complaints about automakers’ application of copyrights in this case are clinging to rapidly fading concepts of ownership that will naturally continue to change if we are to take the futurists and tech-utopians seriously.

In a future system in which an automobile becomes just one dynamic node in a vast traffic grid that is holistically maintained by software — because that is the only way it could work — not only will individuals not be allowed to service their own cars, but the very idea that a car may be “owned,” as we presently define that term, could be scrapped along with the last internal combustion engine.  As Jaron Lanier suggests in Who Owns the Future, a driverless paradigm may be brought about by public mandate if it can be demonstrated that automobile fatalities and serious injuries can be reduced by a substantial margin. And more recently, articles have been appearing that predict we’ll at least see driverless taxis within a decade or so, while others have examined the environmental benefits of a driverless future.  Combine these factors with certain market realities — like the fact that American millennials will be the first generation to earn less than previous generations and that they concurrently reveal a general comfort with “sharing economy” concepts that erase traditional notions of ownership —  and our long-standing relationship with automobiles as symbols of personal freedom could give way to a driverless future that would necessitate something like a public/private model of personal transportation.

I know this projection is probably unappealing to many Americans today because we do have a unique relationship with our cars, our big open roads, our ability to be our own mechanics, and our sense of liberty.  But that’s exactly why I think the larger question as to what kind of technological future we’re building is far more intriguing than any momentary complaints about an automaker using copyrights to restrict traditional market freedoms in maintenance.  Sure, we can, and probably should, demand the right to jailbreak cars on principle right now, but that principle could become moot faster than we think.

It seems reasonable to assume that if we are to embrace The Internet of Things, that as ordinary functions of our lives are made easier, safer, cheaper, or faster by networked systems, the more the concept of “owning” many types of property is likely to change. In many cases, these predictions seem to imply a return to older models based on monopolistic, semi-regulated, industries.  When I was a kid, nobody owned a telephone. A household got an account with the one phone carrier that served the community, and then leased however many phones as needed from the same company, much as we still lease cable boxes to this day.  So, if we progress toward a future of smart, driverless cars and smart homes, at what point do regulations like building code, consumer and environmental protections, or safety regulations merge with intellectual property to become an intertwined body of law that inherently limits our present sense of personal liberty vis a vis those items we presently call “our stuff?”

Consider the flap from libertarians over the CF lightbulb years ago, or the overreach by Keurig in its attempt to use IP to thwart the sale of off-brand cups for its coffee makers; and then imagine how many components of your home might one day be part of a complex, data-driven network that only works properly if all the compatible units are precisely installed and maintained.  “Your” house  would become  just one little Christmas light on a vast strand of homes and businesses that society cannot afford to let go out. How could such a highly automated and integrated system function without limiting individual choice and potentially threatening competition in the market?  Of course, our adoption of holistic, networked integration of daily life is either unlikely, or it depends on such profound social changes that it is a bit hard to fathom.  But as long as we’re talking about broader principles, let’s talk about those with regard to the technologies and models we’re being told are the future rather than merely react to momentary misapplications in models we believe to be rapidly fading into the past.

By and large, I assume we enjoy the benefits of safety and convenience that come with computer-assisted cars, but now we’re on the leading edge of the question as to whether or not we ultimately want computer-centric cars.  If so, it is probably unavoidable that we must  recalibrate our definitions of ownership if we are going to allow the machines to drive us rather than the other way around.  Thus, I find it a strange contradiction to highlight every example, at this moment in history, that reveals copyright to be a restraint on personal liberty when it is simultaneously claimed to be a restraint on innovation itself.  Because many a predicted innovation may ultimately limit traditional liberties by virtue of paradigmatic change, resulting in fewer consumer choices in various sectors.  A driverless-vehicle paradigm implies a model that is fundamentally communal, which doesn’t have to be a bad thing for society per se, but it is certainly anathema to the American sense of personal liberty with regard to “our” cars.   As such Doctorow’s complaint, while perhaps valid in this moment, appears to rust a little on the page almost as quickly as it can be read.