How to Avoid Copyright Infringement

After the CASE Act passed the Senate Judiciary Committee* on Thursday last week, the critics hit “Publish” on the blogs they had written with the intent to scare users—doubling down on the narrative that the Copyright Claims Board (CCB) for small claims will lead to a whirlwind of infringement judgments against ordinary and innocent users.  I and others have explained the many technical reasons why this allegation is unsupportable under the new statutes, but folks out there will still be frightened by blogs like the one from the oxymoronically-named Center for Democracy and Technology.  Stan Adams writes …

“You may be thinking, ‘I won’t infringe copyright, I’ll just make sure not to use any protected works.’ Here’s why that will not be as easy as you might think. First, copyright is automatic. This means that when someone snaps a new photo, they immediately hold the rights to it. If you found a photo or other work that you wanted to use, you would need to get permission from the rightsholder. In some cases, determining who to ask is relatively easy.”

Actually not infringing copyright is easier than Adams wants you to think.  Believe it or not, many of the most prolific authors and users of works since 1978 (when copyright became automatic) have been not infringing copyright rather effectively throughout their careers.  Not just the wealthy stars of the entertainment world, but regular middle-class creators (like the ones the CASE Act is designed to help) have been not infringing one another’s copyrights in the production and reproduction of millions of works.  How they achieve this miracle is really quite simple, and the basic steps are implicit in Adams’s paragraph above.  To avoid infringing copyrights, do the following:

Step 1:  Do not use work that is not yours.

Step 2:  If you want to use work that is not yours, do a little homework and make sure you have a plausible legal basis for using the work; or obtain a license for use of the work.

Step 3:  If you are unable or unwilling to make the effort in Step 2, return to Step 1.  

When the CDT, EFF, et al write posts like the one by Adams, there is a sleight of hand afoot (if you will).  He is purposely, albeit subtly, conflating the unintentional user (e.g. someone reposting a meme) with the intentional user (e.g. a blogger or commercial entity posting editorial or promotional material).  It is neither affordable, nor technically possible, under the CASE provisions for a small claimant to go after myriad unintentional users like re-tweeters et al.  But the intentional users, who will be the subjects of claims brought via the CCB, really can avoid infringing by following the basic guide above. 

Whether you are advertising a business, making a political statement, promoting an event, writing a blog, etc., the moment you consciously decide you want a photograph, illustration, video clip, or music to accompany the message, your responsibility to not infringe copyright is both reasonable and entirely achievable.  There are many low-cost options to avoid infringing copyright, including, in some cases, asking the copyright owner for permission to use the work.  I know.  It’s downright uncivilized.  Permission.

One reason these organizations get away with scaring people about CASE is that we have normalized copyright infringement (to say nothing of permission in other contexts) to the extent that infringement is portrayed as a form of civil disobedience rather than what it usually is—a complete lack of courtesy toward individual people.  Because what happens in real life is that some business owner, perhaps a local insurance broker, builds a web page for his company, and because the refrain grab it off the internet has been playing in his head since middle school, he does not stop to think that the photograph of the family buying a car requires a license for use.  

That is the kind of infringement CASE is designed to address for the independent creator; and frankly, the commercial infringer should be grateful for the small-claim option as well.  As we saw in Brammer v. Violent Hues, a commercial user who really should have known better wound up costing himself a lot of money in federal court defending an indefensible use of one man’s photograph.  That was an archetypal example of an intentional user hastily making use of a photo he “found online,” knowing full-well that he had other options, including lower-cost stock photos or taking his own picture.

Just because the internet makes copyright infringement a bit too easy, this does not mean that not infringing copyright is especially difficult.  And CASE does not change anything about the parameters of copyright law, except that it may perhaps remind certain users that, no, everything online is not there for taking.  If intentional users simply pause to think about what they are doing and to what purpose, making legal and/or fair uses of works is not so mysterious as Adams et al would have you believe.  After all, if you are building a web page, writing a blog, promoting an event, etc. and not thinking about what you’re doing, you may have bigger problems than potential copyright infringement.

The “wild west” is over.  Good riddance.

Beyond copyright matters, I believe the folks at these organizations mean well (mostly), but they should pause and think about their personal moral codes in context to the world view they keep promoting—because it is actually destroying the world.  The romance of the “wild west” internet is over, and good riddance because the Wild West is nothing to aspire to as a society.  Consequently, it is worth asking why the CDT, EFF, et al are still so eager to promote the illusory value of never thinking about what we do online or to whom we do it.

These groups tend to oppose both platform and user liability for almost any kind of conduct; but whose interests are really served by a free-for-all market devoid of human agency, permission, or responsibility?  As we see in daily examples, it is the perfect environment for entrenching the economic and political power of the major web platforms while safeguarding the conduct of predatory actors and trolls, and—I would add—amplifying hateful rhetoric with tangible and dire consequences.  I suppose Stan Adams’s organization could change its name to Center for Tyranny-of-the-Mob and Technology, but that’s a bit of a mouthful and probably not good messaging.  Yet, bizarrely, it is kinda what they are selling.  

*Original publication stated that CASE passed out of the Senate and not just the SJC. Thanks to reader Dave Davis for catching the error.


Photo by conejota.

EFF Sides With Goliath (again) in Opposition to CASE Act

Now that the bill creating a small claim provision for independent authors of works is making progress in Congress, EFF has pivoted to its standard late-stage strategy whenever they try to kill legislation: the dissemination of scare-mongering bullshit. I do not mean that I disagree with them. There are not two sides to the story they are telling or considerations about which well-meaning parties can disagree. I mean the EFF is just plain lying when they try to scare people into believing that “Life-altering lawsuits could come to regular internet users” as a result of the CASE Act. No they bloody-well cannot.

The narrative being pushed by the EFF is that the small-claim provision will make litigation so easy for claimants, that more copyright owners will go after more regular folks. They want me to believe this means a higher probability that if my kids, for instance, share memes with photographs, I could be liable for damage awards that would indeed be damaging to my ordinary income.

But as explained in previous posts (because one can actually read the bill), CASE does not make enforcement so easy that rightsholders are suddenly going chase down every innocuous use of their works looking for quick payouts from ordinary users. For instance, rightsholders are limited in the number of claims they can file by both statute and their own resources. So, as a matter of common sense, if you could only file so many claims at a time, are you going to pick the handful of commercial users who should have licensed your work, or are you going to try to file against hundreds of users who might have shared some meme that was made out of your work?

Then, of course, there is that nagging little detail that the small claim tribunal is a VOLUNTARY alternative dispute resolution procedure. How can a process that is VOLUNTARY possibly result in what the EFF is alleging? Any notice served must prominently state that the tribunal is voluntary, and this will be repeated by the Copyright Claims Board when it sends its notice. I am always amazed that organizations like EFF, who claim to defend the internet, seem to think that this kind of information is not available to ordinary people via the internet. One might almost think the organization is behaving like…what do they call them?…gatekeepers?

The EFF presents itself as a crusader standing up for ordinary people against the powerful, whether that power is held by public or private institutions. Yet, their dishonest portrayal of the CASE Act is further evidence that their defense of the “little guy” does not seem to include all the defenseless victims of the digital age. The fact that their definition of the “little guy” does not embrace the working photographer who gets ripped off is no surprise, of course. After all, they do not even consider victims of harassment, revenge-porn, or trafficking to be worthy of so much as a conversation about altering Section 230’s immunity for web platforms that profit from these crimes.

By now, it is clear to most people that the internet creates new opportunities for bad actors just as it creates new opportunities for good ones. The EFF is not responsible for this unavoidable condition, but they do appear to have chosen sides, consistently determining that certain victims are worth sacrificing for what they have determined is the “greater good.” Who put them in charge of making that decision is a solid question, but it is hard to miss the fact that the “greater good” does frequently align with the interests of the major internet and high-tech corporations.

On the other hand, maybe the EFF is not the Silicon Valley shill that many have accused the organization of being. Maybe they sincerely believe what they are saying about the CASE Act and are not liars so much as they are merely incompetent. Either way, it’s scare-mongering bullshit. And don’t we have enough of that on the internet? Including more than a few of those precious memes the EFF is so worried about.

NYT tech editor Jeong sticking copyright criticism where it doesn’t belong.

Holy whiplash segues, Batman.  There I was reading a perfectly interesting article by Sarah Jeong on the potential hazards of selling one’s personal data, when she took an incomprehensible—if mercifully brief—detour into the realm of copyright law.  She presents a reasonable enough case that the companies now offering to help us “broker” our private data (e.g. health information) may be counting on the fact that, “There’s no legal property right to personal data.  Once personal data is gathered, it’s out there for anyone to buy and sell. At the moment, there are no legal grounds to demand compensation for use,” Jeong writes.

Fair enough.  It is certainly true that the whole prospect of selling private data, even if it were a good idea, does implicate a relatively novel legal framework.  And while I am personally inclined to agree with Jeong that the whole notion is fraught with hazards, I am at a loss to understand where she is going with this interjection …

“In any case, we already know what happens when property rights get slapped on information, because we’ve already done it, to some degree, in copyright law. 

Giving people ownership of their creative expressions means they can buy and sell them on the open market. The risk is that an artist will wind up, like Taylor Swift, alienated from her own work because she no longer possesses the masters of some of her earlier recordings.”

Swift in late June stated publicly that she was very disappointed to learn that mega-star manager Scooter Braun will be acquiring Big Machine Label Group, which still owns her master recordings dating back to the start of her career.  Swift calls the prospect of being under contract to Braun her “worst nightmare,” and for the sake of this post, we will take her word that he is an “incessant manipulative bully” because digging into that backstory could not matter less to Jeong’s ham-fisted allusion to the supposed problem with copyright.  

Even more bizarrely, Jeong happened to pick an artist who has adamantly defended both her own rights and those of much smaller artists, and who told Rolling Stone in 2014, “Important, rare things are valuable. Valuable things should be paid for. It’s my opinion that music should not be free, and my prediction is that individual artists and their labels will someday decide what an album’s price point is. I hope they don’t underestimate themselves or undervalue their art.”  So, I’m just spitballing here, but maybe Swift did not recently do an about-face on the purpose of copyright, or even abandon all prospect of working with labels, so much as she was just saying she really does not like Scooter Braun.  

Turning to Jeong’s implications about the nature of copyright, it is clear that she should refrain from the topic altogether.  For one thing copyright does not “slap property rights onto information.”  Quite the contrary.  There is in fact a long history of statutory development and caselaw that makes it very clear that information is not the subject of copyright.  Expression is the subject of copyright, but the way Jeong slaps these two sentences together makes it seem as though information and expression are the same thing—especially in the context of an editorial that is all about data, which has no resemblance to expression.  

At that point, I guess what Jeong is trying to say is that if we can own and sell our data, then, like Taylor Swift and her masters, we could wind up very unhappy about the party that buys the data.  I think that disappointment is almost a guarantee and that we should be shoring up statutes against privacy-invasion rather than looking for ways to market our DNA profiles and whatnot.  But, that said, what in blazes does the unprecedented challenge of mass data collection and its privacy implications have to do with about three centuries (though I would argue more) constructing a legal framework for authorial rights?  Not a damn thing.

Interestingly enough, the paper written by Samuel Warren and Louis Brandeis in 1890, which is widely considered the seminal American work articulating a right of privacy, actually turns to copyright law as starting point.  Because there is no constitutional declaration of a right to privacy Warren and Brandeis begin with the already long pedigree of copyright in unpublished works when they write, “From corporeal property arose the incorporeal rights issuing out of it; and then there opened the wide realm of intangible property, in the products and processes of the mind.”  

Not only do most people, and certainly most creators, still feel that the products of the mind are a form of personal property, but this was the exact point of reference chosen by a pair of legal lions to make the case that a right of privacy actually exists.  Consequently, Jeong might want to consider the possibility that copyright law provides guidance for the protection of our personal data rather than a warning of what can happen if we become the “owners” of that data.  Or, if we’re looking for warning signs in historic property rights regimes, my friend Neil Turkewitz observes

“If property rights are the model, then Silicon Valley’s dismal track record on intellectual property rights is a giant red flag that simply vesting property rights is of little consequence to the extent that such property rights are essentially unenforceable — particularly for individuals. Since the dawn of the internet, notwithstanding their legal rights, creators and innovators have had to endure an avalanche of illegally available copies of their works online.”

So, maybe, as Warren and Brandeis noted, copyright does have something teach us about privacy that is quite different from Jeong’s misguided assumptions. But what do I know?  I’m just spitballing.