Tag: copyright

Internet Archive Introduces “Rice Krispies” Defense in Copyright Case

Internet Archive advances Rice Krispies defense.

When Internet Archive lost resoundingly in the Hachette (book publishers) case, the court rejected its cockamamie legal theory called controlled digital lending (CDL). Then, when a group of record labels (UMG et al.) filed suit against IA for infringing reproduction, distribution, and performance of sound recordings, I wrote at the time that there’s no way IA has an unfounded theory to test drive in this case. Who knew they had yet another cockamamie idea on deck?

In a small, semantic gift to counsel for plaintiffs, IA has argued that the preservation of “hisses, crackles, and pops” on the pre-1978 sound recordings favors a finding that their reproduction, distribution, and performance of those recordings is fair use. “Defendants’ newly devised Rice Krispies argument for fair use here is even less credible than Internet Archive’s previous fabricated fair-use theory for books that the Southern District of New York recently eviscerated,” the plaintiffs’ response states.

At issue is IA’s “Great ’78 Project,” which digitizes, distributes, and digitally streams older sound recordings on the premise that it does so for preservation purposes and to make “rare” recordings available to the public. If the recordings at issue were indeed rare, the project might have a reasonable claim to exceptions under the Music Modernization Act (2018) which allows libraries and archives to make pre-1972 sound recordings available if they make a good-faith effort to determine that the recordings are not commercially available. Here, the record labels present evidence that the relevant sound recordings IA makes available can be found commercially, including on major streaming platforms.

So, because IA does not have a solid argument that the sound recordings at issue are hard to find, it overstates the historic value of the Great 78 Project thus: “Preserving these records as they would have been heard and experienced by listeners at the time they were made approximately one hundred years ago is a critically important part of archiving these works.” Is it though?

If we’re going to play this game, a 78RPM shellac resin disk that has degraded in random ways over the decades, and is then digitized and played via computer in the 2020s will NOT match the “experience of a listener” in, say, 1935. A brand-new disk in 1935 played on a phonograph of the period sounded different to that listener than the file IA produces by acquiring and digitizing that disk in 2018. Relatedly, a serious audiophile will tell you that a pristine vinyl album plays back sounds (overtones, etc.) that are lost in digital reproductions like CDs. Yet, these qualitative distinctions have no bearing on the copyright rights in the sound recordings, whether the reproductions are fixed in vinyl, CD, MPEG file, or crystals.

To the extent that there is some forensic, archeological value in any of the dust and noise in the old grooves of a 78 disk, this implies such a distinctive (if not eccentric) field of research, that it hardly justifies making the material available to the general public via the internet. I think a conservator would agree that the physical disks comprise a valuable collection and that, perhaps, storing a digital archive would be of use, but a conservator might question the historic significance of modern, random damage done to a given disk embodying an old recording. What if two tiny scratches were made in 1973 and 1996? What history is the contemporary listener hearing? Even if we knew that history, how important is the scratch Betty made when she bumped the record player that time Larry tried to cop a feel? It’s not quite the same as, say, the margin notes written by the composer on the original sheet music.

I’ll leave the preservation discussion there, however, because as a legal argument, the Rice Krispies defense is rather soggy. As the response for the plaintiffs states, “Fair use cannot be perverted into forfeiting a sound recording’s protection under copyright law just because the recording is copied, distributed, and performed in something other than its cleanest sound. If ever there were a theory of fair use invented for litigation, this is it.”

Presumably, IA wants to show that for the purpose of “education” or “scholarship,” named in the preamble of the fair use statute, its reproduction and distribution of the sound recordings “as listeners would have heard them a hundred years ago” is sufficient to find that the factor one analysis favors fair use. Notwithstanding the other three factors, even if IA could convince the court that random “hisses, crackles, and pops” are of general cultural value, the archive is overreaching on fair use.

The fair use exception anticipates some new authorship that enhances or expands the value of the work used. In the context of scholarship, this typically means that a scholar uses some portion of a work to author commentary, criticism, or analysis. Further, the scholar’s new work is separately protected by copyright as a new expression. By contrast, IA reproduces, distributes, and performs protected expression (the music recording) mixed with extraneous and random sounds that nobody has authored.

Just because someone might be able to ascribe significance to those random noises, this does not exempt the use under factor one—especially after the Supreme Court in Warhol rejected such broad and vague rationales of this nature. To put it another way, even if a human author were to intentionally add crackles and pops to a sound recording, he would have to prove that those additions comment upon the original work, or his reproduction would be an unlicensed (infringing) derivative work.

IA is trying to fit itself for a fair use defense that no individual, follow-on author could easily advance. Of course, their grasping at fair use is based partly on the fact that IA is an archive providing a useful resource like Google Books. But as they have not presented an argument on that basis (which would also not win), and because they tacitly admit that the Great ‘78 Project falls outside statutory exemptions, it looks once again like the anti-copyright ideology of Brewster Kahle is the reason they’re bringing Rice Krispy Treats to this party. What can I say? The guy’s a cereal infringer.

Truth Dies in Broad Daylight

Democracy dies in darkness according to the motto of the Washington Post, and this is, of course, just one of many phrases reciting the axiomatic theme that credible and responsibly reported information is the blood of a democratic society like the United States. If true, then why has the “information age” brought democracy itself to the brink of destruction?  There are many answers, including from those who would say that the question itself is alarmist—that, for instance, the “democracy in peril” narrative is a talking point of the political left with no foundation in evidence. But ain’t that the rub? Have we not crossed the event horizon of an epistemic crisis?

It bears repeating that a healthy democracy not only tolerates, but requires, a debate of competing ideas; but thanks largely to the major internet platforms, society has devolved to a shouting match of competing realities. No technological singularity required. We have already carved out a point in our little corner of spacetime that is dense enough to prevent truth from escaping. It may be self-evident that truth dies passively in silence, but truth can also be trampled to death by noise, and how could “democratizing information” ever have produced anything but a cacophony?

In a recent editorial for the Los Angeles Times, Anita Chabria asks Why is it OK for rich guys to steal my work? She writes…

Retail theft is causing a civic meltdown and inspiring a ballot measure to incarcerate repeat toothpaste thieves.

But billionaire tech bros dismantling democracy for profit, stealing thousands of times a minute by selling advertising against something they don’t own? That barely gets a shrug, even as more media professionals are laid off, more publications close, and reliable information becomes so scarce and hard to spot that truth itself has become political.

Some might argue that news organizations have lost so much credibility that it hardly matters, and I cannot deny that I have read my share of careless articles under the imprimatur of respected brands, including the WaPo. But notwithstanding cultural and social changes that ebb and flow through any industry, the bottom line is that good investigative journalism is expensive, highly skilled, and time consuming, and the internet industry has only served to make those obstacles larger, if not insurmountable.

First, social media fostered, and still perpetuates, an illusion that “citizen journalists” and raving pundits consistently uncover hidden truths which are obfuscated by the mainstream media. Second, social media demands feeding the beast 24/7, which forces the traditional news organization to prioritize speed over quality, thereby often fulfilling the prophecy that mainstream news is untrustworthy. And finally, the major social platforms resist paying for the news material they exploit for profit. In combination, how can these forces not cause a downward spiral in professional journalism, including the layoffs now being reported? And that’s before we truly see AI alter the landscape.

While it is impossible not to point to Trumpism as the paradigmatic—and potentially fatal—symptom of rampant conspiracy-mongering, the folly of democratizing information is shared across the political spectrum. The internet industry told the world that their platforms were the antidote to media conglomerates—the proverbial “gatekeepers,” who controlled, and even buried, the information to which people are entitled. And thus, Big Tech’s assault on copyright law often rode atop the half-baked slogan that “information wants to be free” in both senses—liberated and gratis. And everyone—nearly everyone—believed that bullshit.

Although copyright is commonly associated with creative and entertainment material, it was nonfiction works, including journalism, that were at the center of the constitutional framers’ attention when they drafted the “progress clause” in Article II. There’s a reason why that clause says, “to promote the progress of science,” and in one of my favorite papers about the adoption of copyright at the founding period, Professor Jane Ginsburg notes, “Petitions to Congress before enactment of the first copyright statute sought exclusive privileges for works overwhelmingly instructional in character.”

A century later, copyright protection would encompass a broad range of creative and performing arts, but at the outset, the framers understood that the Republic would fail in persistent darkness. Thus, the speech right, the press right, and copyright can be seen as working in concert toward the hope that future generations would have the “science” necessary to sustain the American experiment. Now, just over 230 years since the first Copyright Act and the Bill of Rights, I am hardly alone in wondering whether that “science” is lost, symbolized by the fourth estate shedding 500 jobs in January alone.

In 2021, Senator Klobuchar first introduced the Journalism Competition Protection Act (JCPA), which would provide a limited exemption to antitrust prohibitions against collective bargaining among news media organizations. Passage of the JCPA would enable news media companies to negotiate terms with giants like Meta, Google, et al. for licensing news content shared on those platforms, and Chabria cites a study from the University of Houston, which states that, with passage of the JCPA, the major platforms would owe news organizations between $11.9 billion and $13.9 billion per year. So, of course, the tech giants have used their lobbying power to block the bill.

Meanwhile, Big Tech continues to argue that they should not pay news organizations anything because their platforms “drive traffic” to the news channels. Artists will recognize this as the “exposure” rationale for piracy, and it takes some chutzpah to keep peddling this nonsense against a backdrop of layoffs and closings. Because it doesn’t take an economist to know that traffic alone does not pay for overhead and salaries—and that’s even if Google et al. actually increase traffic relative to pre-internet readership.

What we know for sure is that a democracy without a robust and free press is in danger of no longer remaining a democracy, and we know that news organizations have historically struggled to be financially sustainable. As the internet industry has done with music, motion pictures, literary works, etc., they sold the promise of access to news and information while siphoning the revenue that pays people to produce that material in the first place. And as we are witnessing in real-time, the vacuum is filled with charlatans, liars, cowards, and thieves. Thus, the proverbial “sunlight” promised by Big Tech is not a disinfectant, but a poorly made pesticide that animates the weeds and kills all the fruit.

Photo source by: Mediaphotos

Jury finds Kat Von D tattoo does not infringe. But stand by.

Sedlik

Last Friday, a Los Angeles jury returned a verdict that celebrity tattoo artist Kat Von D did not infringe the copyright rights of photographer Jeff Sedlik when she made a tattoo that (it must be said) is strikingly similar to Sedlik’s portrait of Miles Davis. Sedlik filed a copyright infringement suit in response to Kat Von D reproducing an unlicensed copy of the photograph, tracing over printouts of the photograph, making social media posts that include the photograph, and tattooing the Miles Davis image onto the arm of Blake Farmer, a friend and colleague whom she did not charge for the tattoo.

Although this case is far from over, Kat Von D has been quoted in the press as saying, “I’m excited to be done. If we didn’t fight this, it would have done so much harm to an industry that’s already struggling.” I’ll comment below on the industry harm allegation, but Kat Von D’s celebrity status should not confuse anyone into believing that she is the party litigating on principle. Sedlik only filed suit—the first in his career—after Kat Von D refused to have a conversation in response to a letter about the use of the photograph.[1] Sedlik’s view is that artists should respect one another’s rights when it comes to preparing derivatives of each other’s works, a theme lately made clear in the outcomes in both AWF v. Warhol and in Graham and McNatt v. Richard Prince.

Not only will Sedlik appeal, but the results of last week’s trial imply errors by this court and a curious jury verdict because it is not clear that Judge Dale Fischer properly distinguished between questions of law (the court’s purview) and questions of fact (the jury’s purview). To clarify any misreporting in the press and/or social media posts, the jury did not find that the tattoo itself is fair use but found that four of the social media posts depicting Kat Von D working with Sedlik’s photograph to be fair use.[2] The tattoo itself was found by the jury to be non-infringing on the basis that it is not “substantially similar” to the photograph—a verdict that will make many a copyright watcher curious as to how, or why, this jury was instructed to consider the matter. “The question of substantial similarity should never have gone before the jury. That should have been decided as a matter of law.” Sedlik’s attorney, Robert Allen, stated. And probably with good reason.

Ordinarily, the court would separate the non-protected elements of a work (e.g., the facts of Davis’s likeness) from the expression created by the photographer (e.g., Sedlik’s explicit posing of Davis’s hand, lighting, and composition choices) and then determine whether the secondary work copies the expression in the original. This is not analysis performed by a jury. Moreover, in this instance, where there is evidence of copying (e.g., photographs of Kat Von D inking the tattoo with Sedlik’s photograph by her side), Ninth Circuit precedent holds that a substantial similarity test need not be performed at all in order to prove copying by inference. Then, of course, there is the commonsense factor that no reasonable person could look at the images side-by-side and not see that the tattoo copies the main expression in the photograph.

Sedlik photograph of Miles Davis and Kat Von D tattoo.
Sedlik portrait (1989). Kat Von D tattoo (2017)
Social post - Kat Von D copying Jeff Sedlik photo of Miles Davis
Social Media Post ~90,000 likes.

The fair use saga in this trial thus far also raises some questions, including Judge Fischer’s own fair use analysis before trial and the jury’s decision that the four social media posts are fair use. But because there is a lot to unpack, and because the jury found the tattoo itself to be non-infringing as a threshold question, I will leave fair use for a follow-up post.

Trials in the Court of Public Opinion

It is interesting that this case, Warhol, and the recent judgments for Graham and McNatt against Richard Prince all share common elements of fact and law, filtered through cultural perceptions that have little to do with either fact or law. Anecdotally, I would say that sympathies broke almost evenly between Lynn Goldsmith and the late Andy Warhol, both inside and outside the art community. Richard Prince does not earn much sympathy outside certain art salons, and that’s partly because appropriations like “New Portraits” are seen as lazy and uninspired, and because he personally makes strident declarations that piss off a lot of creators.

In a different light, Kat Von D is both popular and sympathetic, especially with her post-trial claim to be litigating on behalf of the tattoo industry, combined with her statement that this case has turned her off ever making another tattoo. I get why this will play well in the court of public opinion, but as a legal matter, the assumption that she was allowed to use Sedlik’s photograph is highly analogous to the assumptions made by Warhol and Prince, also using photographs to make unlicensed derivative works. And they both lost on questions relevant to Kat Von D’s defense.

For example, Von D is on record saying that she could have based the tattoo on any number of images of Miles Davis and didn’t need to use Sedlik’s photograph, meaning there was no justification for her unauthorized use—a concept that was at the forefront of the Warhol case. This militates against her claim that she is defending the industry in general. Although I believe Sedlik is correct on the law in this instance, Kat Von D’s allegation that licensing would cause significant harm to the tattoo industry is questionable, not least because Sedlik presented evidence that tattoo artists do license images.[3]  

As a hypothetical question, if Blake Farmer had presented Kat Von D with the Sedlik photograph and asked her to reproduce it on his arm, would it have been fatal to High Volage, and the entire industry, if she had to reply that she could ink Davis but not that specific image? To be clear, a tattoo artist is free to look at photographic portraits of a subject and then render her own drawing of that subject as a tattoo. If the tattoo artist is good, as indeed Kat Von D is, then the customer gets a quality tattoo of the subject he wants but not an expression belonging to another artist.

Perhaps most damming to Kat Von D’s claim to be defending the industry is the verdict itself. Although I expect the Ninth Circuit will be reversing a few findings in this case, any artist following this story should recognize that were this verdict to stand, it means nothing for tattoo artists in general. Just because one alleged copy is held to be non-infringing on the basis that it is not substantially similar to the plaintiff’s work, this predicts little to nothing about the next potential claim of infringement in the tattoo world, or for artists in any other media.[4]

So, Kat Von D’s declaration to have fought and won on behalf of tattoo artists everywhere is as misguided as it is prematurely announced. On the other side of the equation, Sedlik’s argument, not unlike Goldsmith, Graham, and McNatt, is that it is indeed detrimental to all artists when fellow artists working in any medium copy their work as if it is simply there to be taken. There will be more to say about this case. Stand by.

[1] Sedlik Complaint (Document 1).

[2] Redacted Verdict Form (Document 217).

[3] For example, tattoo “flash” includes images that are licensed.

[4] Also, I wouldn’t expect the same result in, say, a New York court.

Photo source by: korobskyph