Tag: fair use

Decoder podcast: AI could go extinct because fair use is whimsical

AI extinction

It was hard not to dismiss the headline posted by The Verge:  How AI copyright lawsuits could make the whole industry go extinct. The article summarizes a new Decoder podcast hosted by Nilay Patel, joined by Sarah Jeong to discuss the copyright lawsuits filed against generative AI developers. Most of the program is devoted to a discussion of fair use, which is reasonable because that’s likely how these cases will be decided. It’s clear that Patel and Jeong view copyright as a barrier to technological innovation, but when people trained in the law misrepresent the law as purely whimsical, it is counterproductive to the conversation.

I could critique nearly every segment in the podcast, but as that would be both long and tedious, I selected a few highlights for this post. Setting the more-hip-than-helpful tone of the program, Patel (who went to law school) describes fair use as a “vibes based” doctrine. Jeong (also law school) echoes the sentiment when she says that litigation against generative AI has “Napster vibes to it,” teeing up her thesis statement: “When Napster happened to the law, companies went bust; entire industries went bust; copyright changed forever in a way that was not great; it was an extinction level event; and AI has a similar thing going on there.” Here, Patel summarizes that Napster went to the Supreme Court—it did not—and that the Court “made some changes to copyright law.” Seriously? “Made some changes” is not how people with legal training talk about court rulings, even when they disagree with the outcome.

The next comment that caught my attention was Patel saying that “fair use is not deterministic” as a doctrine. He’s right, but in context, the listener will take him to mean that fair use is unpredictable to the point of capriciousness. Although a good attorney will demur to predict the outcome of any case, a thoughtful copyright expert is unlikely to agree that fair use findings are a “coin toss,” as Patel puts it. In fact, the choice of the word deterministic provokes the rebuttal that anticipating a fair use outcome is more accurately described as probabilistic, which is funny because that’s also how generative AI works.

If a defendant asks an attorney to handicap the likelihood of prevailing on fair use, the attorney’s response should be a reasonable prediction based on how closely the facts of the present case resemble fair use findings in the circuit of jurisdiction. Although Patel alludes to this analysis, he overlooks the fact that counsel could describe a probability outcome, which is precisely how a generative AI produces its outputs. If one prompts a visual AI to generate an image of a dolphin drinking a Slurpee, the output is the machine saying, “Based on the available data, this image is probably a dolphin drinking a Slurpee.” So, of all defendants, AI developers should grasp the nature of fair use case law.

Jeong echoes the idea that fair use considerations are erratic by alleging that the “Court changed copyright law after Napster,” referring to the Ninth Circuit’s 2001 finding that the P2P music filesharing platform was not shielded by fair use. Here, she argues that the Supreme Court’s fair use finding in the Sony “Betamax” case (1984) expressed a philosophical adaptation of copyright law to foster new technology but that this general view was reversed when the Ninth Circuit decided against Napster—and then when the Supreme Court ruled in 2005 that the filesharing platform Grokster could be liable for copyright infringement.

Although one cannot reasonably argue that ideology never skews the courts, Jeong elides the many factual and legal distinctions between the VCR and filesharing platforms and, by extension, the distinctions between those technologies and generative AI. Her declaration that “copyright was changed” after Napster and Grokster is unfounded, as the Court itself notes that Grokster was its second case considering contributory liability for copyright infringement—Sony being the first. Two cases, twenty-one years apart, addressing the same legal question presented by substantially different technologies is not a basis for claiming that the law was “changed forever” by the outcome in the latter case.

Holding the opinion that copyright stifles technological innovation does not excuse misrepresenting the courts as rolling dice to rule on fair use. For instance, in Grokster, the Court directly addresses the balance between copyright and technological innovation thus:

The more artistic protection is favored, the more technological innovation may be discouraged; the administration of copyright law is an exercise in managing the trade-off….The tension between the two values is the subject of this case, with its claim that digital distribution of copyrighted material threatens copyright holders as never before, because every copy is identical to the original, copying is easy, and many people (especially the young) use filesharing software to download copyrighted works.

Does that describe the technological function of the VCR? For those who’ve never used a VCR, the answer is No. The home video tape recorder, a relic of pre-internet life, functioned nothing like a filesharing platform, which facilitates mass copyright infringement on a global scale. Fair use is a fact-intensive inquiry, and “technology” is not a monolith. The leap from the VCR to generative AI is roughly the distance between the telegraph and the iPhone, and it is unhelpful, even irresponsible, to obscure so much factual detail behind a conversation about the courts’ alleged randomness on copyright and fair use.

Everything cited above was expressed in the first 5-6 minutes of the podcast. Tempted not to listen any further, I winced as both Patel and Jeong proceeded to make some astonishing remarks about the four-factor fair use test in regard to generative AI. Again, a couple of highlights stand out.

On factor two, nature of the work used, Patel says, “Factor two is whatever the judge thinks it is.” Then, a few seconds later, he says, “If the judge decides they don’t like the New York Times that day…” this will determine whether factor two tilts in the Times’s favor. NYT v. Open AI is before the Southern District of New York in the Second Circuit, which holds the largest trove of copyright case law of any circuit in the country—including several major fair use cases. If Patel or Jeong want to handicap the court’s findings based on that case law and then offer their own views of what they think is right, fine. But the implication that the court is just going to wing it is ridiculous.

Jeong does not push back on Patel’s coin-toss implication but says the “dial is in the middle” on factor two, which she reasonably (if not very clearly) argues because the Times contains both protectable expression and unprotectable factual material. But then comes the biggest spit-take in the program, when Jeong predicts that factor four, potential market harm to the work used, weighs against the AI developers because of the Supreme Court decision in Warhol. She states, “We have not seen that heavy an emphasis on factor four before.” Notwithstanding the fact that prior to the Campbell decision (1994), many experts would say that factor four was the most determinative factor in fair use jurisprudence, Warhol was unequivocally NOT a factor four case. As the opinion states:

In this Court, the sole question presented is whether the first fair use factor, “the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes,” §107(1), weighs in favor of AWF’s recent commercial licensing to Condé Nast. [emphasis added]

From her comments about Warhol, Jeong confuses the question of “substitutional purpose” with the question of “market harm substitution,” which are weighed under factors one and four respectively. It is true that where the court finds substitutional purpose, market harm substitution is more likely to be found, but as the opinion explains the distinction in one footnote in Warhol:  While the first factor considers whether and to what extent an original work and secondary use have substitutable purposes, the fourth factor focuses on actual or potential market substitution. They are two separate, albeit interdependent, questions. I do not know whence Jeong gets the idea that Warhol was a factor four case, let alone an unprecedented outcome in its emphasis of that factor.

Fair Use is a Fact-Intensive Inquiry

Generalizations like those articulated in the Decoder podcast sidestep the relevant facts about a given technology, what it does in context to legal questions, and why the technology may or may not be socially valuable. “Artificial intelligence” encompasses a wide range of development, some of which is promising, some of which is questionable, and all of which has been identified as potentially dangerous without proper oversight. As for generative AI in the creative industries, if Jeong is right that the copyright lawsuits pose an existential threat to those companies, so what? It is not clear that the world needs machines to make images of dolphins drinking Slurpees.

As discussed in this post, AI developers may have taken a gambler’s approach to fair use, and if their business plan included liability at the scale of mass copyright infringement, that’s a risk they chose to take. If any of those companies fail because of that liability, it will not be the result of whimsically applied or tech-hostile copyright law, or indeed the fault of the creators whose rights are infringed in the process of machine learning. Moreover, it is certainly not incumbent upon creators to abdicate their rights and get out of the way because “innovation” is happening. Fair use considerations in generative AI lawsuits may result in some novel opinions, but if influencers like Patel and Jeong are going to misstate case law and describe the courts as casinos, then one must wonder why they mention their legal credentials in the first place. After all, anyone can flip a coin.

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.

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