“Innovation” Doesn’t Mean Anything

"innovation"

Two headlines in the first week of this month said a lot about the United States as an “innovative” nation right now. One story announced that the first driverless semi-trucks are on the highway covering normal long-haul routes, and the second reported that the final shipments of pre-tariff goods from China were arriving at U.S. ports. Leave it to contemporary America to dispatch a new fleet of robot trucks just in time for the cargo containers to be empty. On the other hand, I guess it works out in principle because the unemployed truck driver won’t have money to buy the goods that won’t be on the shelves.

According to the tech-utopians about a decade ago, the displaced truck driver shouldn’t worry because he now lives in a world of abundance and can, at last, spend his days painting or writing poetry or making music with all the leisure time he now enjoys. Isn’t that what happened? Didn’t technology “innovate” that Keynesian promise of a social and economic golden age? Doesn’t look like it. In fact, we’ve even got machines to write poetry and make music, so the ex truck driver will just have to pound sand.

Big Tech historically calls everything it does “innovation,” allowing scant room for critique of a product’s pros and cons while labeling any policy that might protect some injured parties “anti-innovation.” Even where harmful results are identified and become the subjects of congressional hearings, the product makers effectively sell these “unintended” hazarrds as a price that must be paid for “more innovation.” And, by the way, that promised “age of abundance” will start any day now, if we are just patient and keep feeding the beast more data.

The Coalition for a Safer Web can describe in grim detail how social media and other tech platforms have “innovated” teen suicide, scams, and drug trafficking. Or the recent proliferation of AI “companion” apps (virtual girlfriends and boyfriends) has “innovated” new concerns among child psychologists—and these apps may also “innovate” new vectors for malware attacks. And, of course, increasingly realistic AI deepfakes may further “innovate” our fleeting grasp on reality, which has been essential to “innovating” American democracy to the edge of extinction.

Sporting the word “innovation” as a cloak for all manner of sins, the tech industry contends that the materials used to build the next generation of AI products (i.e., the works of artists and creators) are so essential for even more “innovation” that copyright rights must be disregarded. Elon Musk and Jack Dorsey even opined that the U.S. should simply abandon intellectual property rights altogether, and the industry rhetoric appealing to the current administration claims that copyrights must not hamper the national interest in “winning” the competition to build the “best” AI.

The folly of declaring an intent to “win the AI war” without defining what success looks like is consistent with U.S. tech policy for decades and with policy affecting all sectors, public and private, today. To call Trump 2.0 incoherent is too kind, as that term can imply well-meaning error when, in fact, the administration is engaged in a purposeful, multi-pronged attack on science and the arts in direct conflict with the intent of the progress clause of the Constitution.

Article I, Section 8, Clause 8, giving Congress the power to “promote science and the useful arts” by establishing copyright and patent laws was an expression of the Framers hope that the fledgling, agrarian nation might one day create great cultural works and inventions. But of course, IP law alone can’t do that. Quite simply, without the I, you ain’t got no P—and I is under assault in the United States. Brain-drain and chaos are now the hallmarks of every federal department from healthcare to defense, and in the private sector, Trump’s goons attack universities, the motion picture industry, publishers, authors, journalists, and scientists—literally anyone smarter than they are, which includes a lot of damn people.

“Innovation,” Copyright, and AI Training

Big Tech argues that all AI training with protected works should be exempted from infringement claims by the doctrine of fair use. Ordinarily, broad claims about fair use remain in the blogosphere while specific legal questions are weighed in court. But in regard to AI training, I worry that the general perception of the technology as “innovative” may result in overbroad application of “transformativeness” under factor one, which considers the purpose of a use.

For instance, Judge Chhabria, in last week’s hearing in Kadrey et al. v. Meta, stated that Meta’s Llama is “highly transformative,” which may signal an overbroad reading that synonymizes “transformative” with “innovative” while also eliding a thorough weighing of the extensive purposes for which the use is made. Or in a nutshell, how can a court fully consider the purpose of a use when the technology at issue is dynamic and open-ended?

As noted in an earlier post, landmark fair use cases have involved technologies that were complete models as facts presented to the courts—e.g., the VCR and the Google Books search tool. The court did not need to wonder, for instance, whether the purpose of Google Books—i.e., to provide information about books—might also be used to build an AI “psychologist” that may harm patients seeking mental healthcare. In fact, as The Guardian reports on this very issue, Mark Zuckerberg advocates “innovating” psychotherapy with AI “providers,” thus adding doctor next to historian, journalist, and constitutional scholar to the list of qualifications he lacks as he proceeds to break all things.

In this context, and with the recognition that Meta’s commercial interests entail application of its AI tools across many, if not all, initiatives in the company, what exactly is the purpose of Llama as weighed in a factor one fair use consideration? I’m not convinced the court can really know.

Beyond the Four Factors

When Congress codified fair use in the 1976 Act, it sought to convey over a century of judge-made law as statutory guidance, but beyond the four-factor test, “courts may take other considerations into account,” writes Professor Jane Ginsburg in a paper about AI and fair use. Indeed, she cites to the Google Books case, in which the court states, “the use provides a significant benefit to the public.” But with a product like Llama, where a court has reason to predict substantial crossover between socially beneficial and socially toxic purposes, how can a judge reasonably decide whether the purpose is “highly transformative” when the facts themselves are so ephemeral?

It is one matter for a court to consider the “transformativeness” of an AI built for a clearly defined purpose as presented, but it seems another matter if the technology has myriad purposes, including ones that will manifest after a case has been resolved. Whether Midjourney’s purpose to enable the production of visual works makes fair use of visual works in its training may be a sufficiently narrow consideration, but by contrast, an LLM developed by Meta is arguably open-ended development for purposes as yet undefined.

After all, Meta began with a college student ranking sorority girls and is now a trillion-dollar company that has altered the course of human history—and many of its “innovations” have had destructive results. In this light, the courts should decline to find “transformativeness” in the same overbroad spirit in which the tech industry wields the term “innovation.” Because without a clear definition and coherent law and policy, “innovation” is how we end up with a truck with no driver carrying a load of nothing to nobody.


Photo by Snoopydog1955

Chamber of Progress Says Tariffs Are an Excuse to Infringe Copyrights

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Politico reported yesterday that the astroturf organization called Chamber of Progress stated that because Trump’s tariffs will be a “gut punch” to Silicon Valley stock prices, California legislators should decline to aggravate matters by passing a law that would require transparency among AI developers using copyrighted works in model training. Granted, the tone was more circumspect, but that’s what the argument boils down to:  Tariffs are going to screw our stock values, so we need to screw creators to offset the harm.

According to Chamber of Progress economist Kaitlyn Harger, the cost of compliance with AB 412, sponsored by Assembly Member Rebecca Bauer-Kahan, would cause a dip in stock values that “…could carve $381 million out of California’s tax haul from the four tech giants, all key players in the generative AI boom,” Politico reports.

I won’t comment on the numbers, especially because they are speculative, but I will note the amount of SOP fluff being used to package this argument against the transparency bill. Adam Eisgrau, senior director of AI, creativity, and copyright policy at Chamber of Progress states that founding this anti-AB 412 argument in the tariff controversy is “not opportunistic,” when of course it is. He states, “It is fair to call tariffs a tax, and I think it’s fair to call this bill an innovation tax.”

Kudos for dinging tariffs and taxes and promoting innovation in one sentence, but Eisgrau is parroting a longstanding practice of Silicon Valley, calling any price it would pay for necessary materials a “tax” on progress. While compliance with AB 412’s transparency provisions would naturally cost the tech giants something, why is that cost, let alone the effect of tariffs, a basis for ignoring the creators’ whose works are being mined for AI training?

Assuming tariffs will hit every sector and increase prices across multiple supply chains, that universal condition is not a rationale for tech giants getting a supply of copyrighted works for free. The creators who make those works aren’t getting their supplies for free—and most creators barely make a living wage if they’re lucky. Meanwhile, if the California Assembly is looking broadly at the state’s economy in this North v. South narrative, even a cursory review of the numbers shows that motion picture production supports more jobs than the tech giants.

“Bauer-Kahan’s proposal has the backing of Hollywood labor groups,” Politico states, “including the powerful actors’ guild SAG-AFTRA and the National Association of Voice Actors. But it’s been side-eyed by tech industry critics who say it would upend fair-use protections and turn AI training into a lawsuit in waiting.”

This “upend fair use” claim, whether it comes from Eisgrau or any other tech representative, is standard parlor trick of that industry. First, they advocate a broad, generalized application of fair use (a doctrine that defies generalization) and then claim that any counterargument to their position would “upend” some standard that has been established. This is simply false.

AI training with protected works presents a novel set of facts to be weighed in context to fair use case law, and, thus, a finding that training is not fair use would not “upend” precedent. On the other hand, the rhetoric used by Big Tech in this regard asks for a “fair use” application so sweeping that it would be tantamount to a statutory carve-out for all machine learning now or in the future. That is asking to upend fair use.

The consensus appears to be that Trump’s tariff tactics can only sow chaos and drive up the cost of living for all Americans—including, by the way, creators of works protected by copyright. But despite the prospect of universal economic pain, the Chamber of Progress asks California lawmakers to shield a few of the wealthiest corporations on Earth from the rights and financial interests of the creators whose works those companies are exploiting. Wow.


Photo by Beebright

Maybe Now, Copyright Critics Know What Censorship Looks Like

censorship

Twelve years ago, when I first engaged in copyright advocacy, I was surprised to discover how many critics argued that copyright rights conflict with the speech right. Initially, I thought this had to be a fringe, internet thing—a vibe cooked up in the adolescent blogosphere that no legal scholar or expert took seriously. It would seem obviously contradictory to believe that any creative professional opposes the speech right. But no. It became clear that the main theme underlying the anti-copyright agenda—from academia to “digital rights” organizations to Techdirt et al.—was the premise that copyright rights are a means of censorship that should be minimally tolerated, if they are tolerated at all.

To support this view, and especially with regard to enforcing copyright rights online, it was apparently necessary to vilify creators as elitist, greedy, lazy, and even untalented individuals who expected society to pay for their “hobby.” Artists are used to this kind of criticism, historically from ultra-conservative voices, but the allegedly “democratizing” promise of the internet convinced many traditional liberals, and liberal organizations, to parrot this same anti-creator rhetoric.

Those familiar pejoratives are being recycled today by AI developers claiming that their products are just too damn important to let elitist, greedy, lazy creators stand in the way of machine learning. But let’s pause the AI skirmish a moment and back up. Because we should not lose sight of the fact that the original premise—that copyright rights conflict with speech was 1) bullshit; and 2) dangerous bullshit.

I lost count of how many posts, blogs, articles, and academic papers I read and/or rebutted trying to claim that copyright enforcement was making information, criticism, or important new expression disappear. None of those claims have been borne out by evidence, but more insidious was the fact that those who advocated the copyright-is-censorship theme were obscuring what real censorship looks like and, worse, feeding the very mechanisms by which true censors might come to power.

And come to power they have. As the Trump administration and likeminded state officials attack a wide spectrum of both creative and informative speech, will the anti-copyright crowd acknowledge how ridiculous their claims were that authors and publishers were ever the censors? No they will not. Will they acknowledge that the rights of authors are among the constitutional rights being trampled in Trump’s stampede toward national illiteracy? No they will not. Because it ain’t the authors and publishers trying to “memory hole” history. And it was ridiculous to suggest that they ever were.

But worse than the absurd premise that creators’ rights were a meaningful tool of censorship is that the anti-copyright narrative was promoted with substantial funding by the same companies whose technologies were destined to be exploited by the civil rights-infringing kakistocracy that now holds power. This was not just foreseeable; it was almost inevitable. As cited in my last post about the book Careless People, Sarah Wynn-Williams’s description of various authoritarians, including Trump, using the Facebook algorithm to micro-target disinformation is as unsurprising as it is shocking. What the hell did anyone imagine was really financing these “free information” machines? Goofy memes and mash-up videos?

Every time Mark Zuckerberg rebutted the idea of content moderation by saying, “We don’t want to be the arbiters of speech,” he was masking the truth that Facebook would take anybody’s money and guide them to effectively aim any misinformation at any parties for any purpose. It didn’t matter if the narrative was Brexit, the CCP spying on its own citizens, rallying Buddhists into murderous rage in Myanmar, or amplifying every delusional, unconstitutional syllable in Trump’s slow insurrection against the United States. The mantra of yellow journalism was If it bleeds, it leads, but the mantra of social media is If it pays, it stays.

Not that the anti-copyright crowd would ever admit they had anything to do with the damage Trump is doing to the Republic, but at least they might now concede that their claims about copyright making “information disappear” were as unworthy of attention as they were unfounded in fact. As Justice Sandra Day O’Connor famously wrote in Harper and Row v. Nation Enterprises, “The Framers intended copyright itself to be the engine of free expression.” And so it has been. Meanwhile, the tech industry that opposes those rights has proven to be an engine of so many calamities the Framers dearly hoped Americans would avoid.


Photo by Treephwood