Category: Intellectual Property

Does Masnick Not Know That The Public Is Not An Online Service Provider?

Signaling one of the talking points I expect we’ll be seeing quite often as the DMCA fight brews—and it is brewing—Mike Masnick and others have declared that the Copyright Office, in its newly released report on DMCA Section 512, neglected to include the public among the stakeholders with a vested interest in the 1998 addition to the copyright law. In his first post on the topic, Masnick asks rhetorically Does the U.S. Copyright Office Not Know That Copyright’s Main Stakeholders Are The Public? Never mind that this is a retread of an unsupportable theme of his, but the premise sets up a false dichotomy that will be used as a pretense to campaign for the status quo of Section 512 — especially because the USCO has recommended a few areas for possible revision.

Let us first keep in mind that we, the public, are always the beneficiaries (or not) of policies relating to the interests of both copyright owners and online service providers (OSPs). Or, as my friend Neil Turkewitz puts it, “The public interest is always affected by decisions made by private actors. Indeed, it’s fair to observe that the public interest is itself a contrivance, and represents the constellation of interests of individual members of the public.”

We enjoy the benefits created by internet platforms just as we enjoy the works produced by rightsholders. Because the public interest is intertwined with the interests of both sides in this narrative, the legislative history (despite what Masnick claims) does not point to a triad of stakeholders in which the public is one prong. The DMCA was negotiated by two sides (both representing large, corporate interests) hammering out a deal in the late 1990s, at a time when nobody could have predicted how the consumer-based internet might evolve.

On the OSP side, when AT&T and the other telcos sought a shield against liability for the inevitable copyright infringements by the public, the primary rationale (and a reasonable one) was that investors would shun internet prospects if the service providers would be vulnerable to expensive and ongoing litigation. These companies did not lead with homilies on free speech or the fair use exception in copyright law. It was about business. So, let us not be blinded by the fallacy of presentism. When the Copyright Office says that 512 was intended to balance two competing interests—rightsholders and OSPs—that statement is neither inaccurate nor indicative of a disregard for the public.

One reason I imagine we will be hearing this rhetorical accusation about the allegedly missing public is that it softens the ground for declarations like this one:  “… the report mainly focuses on large internet providers liking the safe harbors, and copyright holders wanting it to be worse…and then claims that since only one side is ‘upset’ clearly that means things are out of balance,” writes Masnick. See what’s happening there?

By pretending that Section 512 is not the result of a two-sided arrangement, Masnick is able to make a mathematically impossible statement, implying that when one side of an agreement feels it isn’t working, this is somehow not evidence of an imbalance. Even if one has contempt for a particular side—and I think copyright critics’ contempt for authors is a matter of record at this point—if one side says an agreement is not working, this is the definition of “unbalanced.” Further, the implication that 512 is working just fine for the public is political theater. Not only could most of the public likely not explain what Section 512 does, but the public also does not enjoy any kind of liability shield under the terms of the DMCA.

It is frankly disingenuous to suggest that the public is ever represented as a whole constituency. And it is as arrogant as it is futile when people like Masnick presume to speak for the public. Which public would that be exactly? Are millions of creators of copyrighted works not part of the public? What about the millions of people whose livelihoods are dependent upon the creative industries? Or what about the public that simply enjoys creative works, which is pretty much everybody? John and Jane Q Public are not nearly so confused about the relationship between copyright and the works they enjoy as many critics like to suggest. And the conflicts inherent to Section 512 were, and remain, conflicts between rightsholders and online service providers. Period.

It is not wrong to maintain that the public has an interest in the implementation of Section 512, and in future posts, I’ll get into some of the proposed amendments that may or may not be considered by Congress. But because those forces hellbent on maintaining the status quo of 512 decided, as a first volley, to lob this allegation that the public was overlooked by the Copyright Office, I will insist that this is neither supported by the content in the report, nor remotely instructive to the purpose of legislative review.

Meanwhile, as long as Masnick et al insist upon conflating the public interest with that of the OSPs, we might want to keep in mind that the public has not exclusively benefitted from the catalytic effects of internet platforms over the last 20 years. We don’t see any headlines saying Songwriters Sell User Data to Troll Farms or Photographers Tied to Election Fraud or Poets Fueling White Supremacy Worldwide. Which force is more responsible for InfoWars, copyright or YouTube?

I know. Don’t blame the internet for every problem in the world. But a little common sense is called for, no? Is it a coincidence that platform expansion is concurrent with rampant ignorance raging through Western civilization like a forest fire? Huge swaths of the public are evidently so howling-at-the-moon stupid (thank you Aaron Sorkin for the expression) that they are willing to believe anything. So, I think we have reasonable cause to look askance at the dawn of the so-called information age and ask where we went wrong.

In that spirit, let us also remember that the purpose of copyright, as expressed in the constitutional clause, is to “promote science.” While “science” has long since been expanded to encompass the creative arts, the notion of enlightenment still lives in the doctrines of copyright. And to the extent the Copyright Office seeks to preserve that principle, it is unquestionably serving the public.

Georgia v. Public Resource: Much Ado About Very Little

I was on the fence with regard to commenting on Georgia v. Public Resource. Its details are arcane, rather dull, and, despite rising to the level of a Supreme Court decision, is generally inapplicable to copyright law. In essence, the Court succeeded in commenting on a matter of contract law because the upshot of this will be that States seeking to hold copyrights in the kind of works at issue in this case will simply amend their relationships with the private third parties that produce such works. I think my biggest resistance to this story was summarizing the facts because holy moly are they boring! So, here they are, cut and pasted from the SCOTUS Syllabus:

The Official Code of Georgia Annotated (OCGA) includes the text of every Georgia statute currently in force, as well as a set of non-binding annotations. The annotations typically include summaries of pertinent opinions of the state attorney general, and a list of related law review articles and other reference materials.  The annotations were produced by Matthew Bender & Co., Inc. a division of LexisNexis Group, pursuant to a work-for-hire agreement with the Code Revision Commission, a state entity composed mostly of legislators.  

Respondent Public.Resource.Org (PRO), a nonprofit dedicated to facilitating public access to government records, posted the OCGA online and distributed copies to various organizations and Georgia officials. The Commission sued for copyright infringement; PRO argued that the entire OCGA, including the annotations, fell in the public domain. The District Court held that the annotations were eligible for copyright protection. The Eleventh Circuit reversed.

So, to clear up one possible confusion about this case, what was NOT at issue, despite some murmuring you may get from the blogosphere, was any question that the law can be copyrighted. It cannot. That question was generally settled in the very first copyright case considered by the United States Supreme Court in 1834 known as Wheaton v. Peters. At issue here were those annotations, the descriptive summaries of either case law or statutes; and there is no controversy as to whether annotations in general can be the subject of copyright. They can. So, what was the big whoop in Georgia v. Public Resource?

The not-so-big whoop came down to the majority’s opinion, written by Justice Roberts, about the relationship between Georgia’s Code Revision Commission and the private party, Matthew Bender, hired to produce the annotations. “Under the agreement, Lexis drafts the annotations under the supervision of the Commission, which specifies what the annotations must include in exacting detail. The agreement also states that any copyright in the OCGA vests in the State of Georgia, acting through the Commission.”

What that boils down to is that because Lexis was contracted under a Work Made For Hire (WMFH) agreement, the Commission is the “author,” and is, therefore, barred by this decision from owning copyright on the grounds that the Commission is acting in its official capacity as an extension of the state legislature. At least that’s what the majority held, albeit after a longwinded tour through the nineteenth century meaning of “author” that I frankly cannot be bothered to summarize here because it hardly matters.

Suffice to say the Georgia decision changes nothing in the longstanding doctrine that works written by judges and legislators, as part of their official duties, may not be copyrighted. But if you read the mercifully crisp dissent written by Justice Ginsburg, joined by Justice Breyer, the distinctions she describes about annotations makes one thing abundantly clear—they are optional. “Annotations aid the legal researcher, and that aid is enhanced when annotations are printed beneath or alongside the relevant statutory text,” Justice Ginsburg writes. “But the placement of annotations in the OCGA does not alter their auxiliary, nonlegislative character.”

States have to make their statutes and court opinions freely available to the public, but they are not obligated to hire a company like Matthew Bender to create annotations that serve as a convenience to the reader. Somebody has to get paid to do the annotating work, and the State’s copyright in the OCGA was just one way to skin that particular cat.

One possible outcome of this decision could be that some states get out of the “official” annotation business, leaving a company like Lexis to still do the work but also own the copyrights. Or the states could simply restructure the way they work with third parties, like dropping the approval process and/or revising the contracts. Or they could just stop producing annotations altogether. So, all in all, much ado about nothing for the Supreme Court, but perhaps a nice respite from larger storms brewing.

Still, Mike Masnick at Techdirt seemed to feel there was a lot to say about this case, presumably because he does present it in his post as a matter in which the state was “locking up its laws under copyright.” That would be a big deal if it were true, but the error explains why Masnick characterizes Justice Ginsburg’s dissent as exemplary of what he calls her “copyright maximalism.” I still maintain, as I wrote years ago, that I have no idea what a copyright maximalist is, but if RBG is one, sign me up. Because just maybe there is a correlation between Justice Ginsburg’s notorious support for authors’ rights and her no-bullshit distillation of this nothing of a case.

Things Creators Can Learn From Seuss v. ComicMix

I listened yesterday morning to oral arguments presented (via video conference) on Monday before the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals in the case Dr. Seuss Enterprises v. ComicMix LLC. As a quick recap, in 2016, Dr. Seuss Enterprises (DSE) filed a copyright claim against publisher ComicMix over a mash-up book called Oh, the Places You’ll Boldly Go!. The author/illustrator team who created the work used iconic illustrations from various titles in the Seuss portfolio, and combined the images with themes and characters from the Start Trek series. In 2019, a California District Court found that “Boldly” was fair use, applying first and fourth factor analyses that many creators found troubling. 

For deeper dives into the legal particulars, see my post from last August and/or posts here and here by Stephen Carlisle of NOVA Southeastern University. But suffice to say, I think most copyright watchers would agree that the appellate panel also found the District Court’s fair use analysis disconcerting and will at least remand, if it does not overturn the decision. Already quoted on social media by copyright advocates is this riposte by Judge M. Margaret McKeown:

“The district court seemed to take the position that if you take existing expression and then you interspersed it with new expression, you have a transformative work. That is a definition of transformative use that I haven’t seen before. It would seem to sting the notion of copyright protection, and almost everything would be a fair use.”

While it can be folly to read too much into judges’ comments at oral arguments, the panel did seem to express concern with three key points in this case:  1) that the lower court may have erred in finding “Boldly” a transformative work under the first fair use factor; 2) that the lower court applied the wrong analysis in considering the potential market harm to DSE under the fourth fair use factor; and 3) as a procedural matter intertwining the two factors, that even a correct finding of transformativeness does not shift the burden from the defendant to the plaintiff to disprove (or prove) potential market harm under the fourth factor. 

Now, I could break down what that all means, but would frankly rather wait until the court renders its decision, and, in the meantime, note that the complexity implied by these considerations leads to a different proposal I would make to most creators out there:  Don’t do this to yourselves. There are way better places you could go.

If you have talent and a desire to express something to the world—and you would rather spend your time creating works than fighting legal battles—the decisions made by “Boldly’s” authors in this instance provide a pretty good guide (Things 1-5, if you will) for avoiding legal complications, even if you want to parody classic material.  

Thing One – Learn What Parody Is

Thanks, in large part, to the volume of works used in funny YouTube videos and such, the word parody is too often invoked to describe every use of a work for the purpose of comic effect. This is an error, both as a literary and legal definition of parody. As discussed in more detail in this post in 2014, a true parody must comment on the original work being used. When ComicMix attorney Dan Booth was asked about this distinction on Monday, he averred that “Boldly” parodies the original work because Seuss’s character is “individualistic and narcissistic,” while Star Trek conveys themes of “teamwork” and “universalism.” 

While I am in no position to judge evidence I cannot fully review, that sounds like a very slippery (i.e. loose) grasp on any claim to parody. Merely using protected works in a new context does not favor a finding of fair use. If “Boldly” is indeed a parody, it should directly lampoon the values or ideas expressed in “Go” by mocking or critiquing Seuss’s original themes of individual empowerment through imagining possibilities. (And even then, we get into some murky waters with regard to copying visual works for the purpose of commenting on textual expression. But let’s not go there, boldly or otherwise, right now.)

I would further argue that the authors’ use of illustrations from multiple Seuss books militates against a finding that “Boldly” is directly commenting upon “Go.” In fact, one illustration from “Boldly,” shown on this ComicMix post from 2017, depicts two Spocks in the manner of Seuss’s The Zax, and the text actually reinforces a theme of individuality. So, maybe there is real parody in “Boldly” somewhere, but it doesn’t sound like there is.  

Thing Two – A Mashup is Not Automatically Fair Use

At oral argument, Booth described the mashup as an “innovative form that takes different sources and puts them in dialogue with one another.” Okay. But even if that were a universally applied description of the mashup aesthetic, it does nothing to place the form in any special category of consideration under a fair use analysis. 

As a general statement, one can assume that, for instance, two sources “in dialogue with one another” will create a third voice, and that this would be consistent with the purpose of fair use, but any given mashup will be subject to the same case-by-case analysis that will be applied to any other type of use. Moreover, because mashups generally involve works owned by more than one copyright owner, they can invite more than one legal complaint.

Thing Three – Apply an Inverse Rule When Creating Parody

One of the errors I find most troubling in this case, even to hear it presented, is the implication that ComicMix needed to create imitations of Seuss’s visual works in order to convey the parodic nature of “Boldly” (assuming parody is even present). This argument is anathema to what I would describe as an inverse proportion rule that says:  The more widely recognized the original work, the less the parodist needs to copy in order to express a commentary about the work.

Seuss’s illustrations are so iconic and so universally recognized that one need not copy every tittle and jot with the precision of a Talmudic scribe in order to lampoon the work—if indeed parody is the real goal. On the contrary, a true parodist would seek to mock an artist’s visual language by selecting certain characteristics to overstate or understate, rather than create a work that so slavishly mimics the original that an ordinary observer would fail to perceive that any visual parody exists at all.

This is one of the weakest aspects of ComicMix’s appeal to parody in my view—that an average consumer, seeing “Boldly” on a store shelf, might easily think that DSE had produced the mashup. Never mind the trademark implications, but a sendup of Dr. Seuss should be almost immediately recognizable as not Seuss and yet Seuss-like enough to know that a joke is being conveyed. We see examples of effective parody through limited copying all the time. Hence the general fair use guideline, to take only as much of the work as necessary is, in fact, easier to apply when parodying the most recognizable works.

Thing Four – Be More Creative

Let’s be honest. A great deal of the time, making substantial use of existing works—especially works as famous as the Geisel oeuvre—is motivated by marketing more than a burning need to express something new. Again, I won’t judge “Boldly” as a work without being able to read the whole thing—and its creators are experienced professionals—but Seuss is such an obvious source for this kind of appropriation that it is difficult to see such uses as more than gimmicks, seeking to profit off the notoriety of the original. 

My oldest kid and I used to riff on the idea of famous Nazis reading Seuss-like works to children, including the book Oh, Zee Places You Vill Invade (and let’s not get started on the Sneetches with the stars.) But if we had developed that inside joke into a book a la “Boldly,” would it imply transformativeness under a fair use analysis? 

The target of the mockery isn’t Seuss, it’s Nazis. Seuss is merely an obvious context in which to place Nazis for satirical effect, but that would not make this hypothetical use a fair use. More specifically, if we did produce such a book, would we need to slavishly copy Seuss’s illustrations to make the joke work? Nope. Readers would get it through the use of illustrations that evoke Seussness without copying Seuss. 

Thing 5 – Work Around Copyright

Finally, if the goal is to produce new creative works—rather than spend years in copyright disputes—it is worth remembering the many, many stories in which creators start out intending to use existing works and then, by navigating around copyrights, discover new and better ideas that would not have occurred otherwise. Happens all the time. 

I wrote about this process in 2013, and that post was later cited in a paper by scholar Joseph Fishman called Working Around Copyright, in which he describes, in legal-scholar terms, what millions of creators already know: that overcoming obstacles to initial creative instincts tends to produce better results. And when that first instinct is to copy protected works, there’s a good chance that the still-untapped idea is probably much better.