Tag: Featured

If the Campaign Targeting eBooks is Reasonable, Why Lie About Copyright Law?

With the court’s unequivocal decision in Hachette et al. v. Internet Archive, and the continued failure of ebook legislation in various states, it is time for policymakers and librarians to understand the reason why this two-pronged campaign against copyright rights in ebooks is losing—because the academics, organizations, and lobbyists behind the effort are lying. Yes, that’s a big accusation to make about anyone, let alone professors at Harvard, Berkeley, Georgetown, etc., but what does one call disinformation in the service of an agenda?  Alternative facts?

In a recent example of the kind of dissembling scholarship being used in this campaign, Professor Michelle Wu, whose early work was seminal to the theory called Controlled Digital Lending (CDL), wrote an editorial for The Nation criticizing the court’s March 24 decision in Hachette. The CDL theory was the foundation of IA’s fair use defense, which the court rejected on all points, just four days after oral arguments. But rather than address the case law or merits in the decision, Wu claims the court simply does not understand the nature of American copyright law itself …

While Judge John G. Koeltl’s opinion addressed many issues, all his reasoning was based on one assumption: that copyright primarily is about authors’ and publishers’ right to profit. Despite the pervasiveness of this belief, the history of copyright tells us something different. What persuaded early state and federal government actors to establish copyright was authors’ reluctance to release their books publicly without the ability to stop the then-rampant piracy by publishers. The lack of copyright, then, was seen as a barrier to information reaching the public, and lawmakers enacted copyright to remove that barrier. This societal purpose is reflected in the wording of the Copyright Clause of the Constitution, which makes the spread of knowledge its goal, with copyright merely being a means to achieve that end.

That is a C- answer on a copyright history test. Wu’s implication that copyright was adopted at America’s founding period without regard for the author’s pecuniary interest, and for the sole purpose of spreading information is as thoroughly belied by the historic record as IA’s fair use defense was emphatically rejected by the court. At the very least, the two considerations were given equal weight, as described by Professor Jane Ginsburg in her paper A Tale of Two Copyrights.

To be sure, the American framers saw patent and copyright law as generally beneficial to the new nation, and men like Joel Barlow (inaptly cited by Wu) wrote encomiums on the subject, noting authors’ fears of unscrupulous publishers as one rationale for legal protection. But the conviction that the author was naturally entitled to the fruits of his labor was alive in copyright history—in England, Europe, and America—by the time the Constitutional Convention dipped the first nib in an inkwell.

Subsequent to the doctrinal kerfuffle in England known as the “Battle of Booksellers,” which culminated in 1774,[1] American copyright history, from Noah Webster to the suffragettes to the congressional record and international agreements, is abundantly concerned with the author’s personal and financial interests in the work. In fact, the majority of those state copyright laws to which Wu alludes, prioritized the author’s natural rights as the rationale for legislation, and an early draft by Madison of language that would become the IP Clause provides for copyright as a stand-alone declaration without preamble. I could go on.

If Professor Wu can support her unilateral “spread of information” rationale with more than opinion, she is welcome to do so. Of course, it was necessary to preface her editorial with a false origin story of American copyright—and slag Judge Koeltl in the process—because Wu then asserts that copyright doctrine and practice shifted from what it never was to an unprecedented focus on certain technological changes and to encroach upon consumers’ interests:

Copyright owners did not interfere with the end user. This was the case despite many user activities—such as making mix tapes, converting LPs to MP3s, writing fan fiction, and playing pop music at a piano recital—all technically potential infringements of copyright. Making a mix tape violates the reproduction right (also the distribution right if the tape is given to another person), converting an LP to an MP3 violates the right to make derivative works, and the playing of music at a recital violates the public performance right. The public, Congress, and the courts all ignored these behaviors as normal incidental uses or as instances of “fair use”—the allowance for which was not inconsistent with an author’s rights.

Not quite. First, there is no such thing as a generalized agreement about myriad conduct falling under the fair use exception. More importantly, there is a world of difference between individual, potential infringements, like mix tapes, and the kind of enterprise-scale infringement committed by the Internet Archive. Making over a million books available via the internet has very different implications than the little white infringements committed by individuals, but Wu is intentionally tossing it all into one big stew pot to promote a concept of copyright that does not jibe with fact or law.

Next, Wu alludes to several cases in which rightsholders litigated against technological innovations (e.g., Sony Betamax), and she characterizes these as attempts to improperly extend the copyright owner’s profit interest (profit being a dirty word) at the expense of the consumer’s right to access. I’ll spare readers an examination of each case in context to Hachette and skip to the bottom line:  all those defendants had their day in court, and so did Internet Archive. And it lost on every point. Thus, rather than even mention the legal considerations in Hachette, Wu pivots to the false, general allegation that the court is fundamentally confused about the purpose of copyright. Finally, she claims …

Copyright protects a work—not a format—yet the justification used to stop CDL appears to be that the copyright owner has the right to profit repeatedly from the sale of the same content in a specific format to the same buyer, even if the buyer only ever needs one copy and already owns one copy.

It is almost a deft enough sleight of hand that a reader might miss the trick when Wu pockets the reproduction right, characterizing the manufacture of unlicensed ebooks—literal copying—as format shifting. The reproduction of books is the foundational activity in copyright law, and I am inclined to believe that Wu and her fellow CDL advocates at other fancy law schools know this. So why are they pushing revisionist history to promote a legal theory that may be DOA as of March 24?

Whatever their motives, the practical reality is that policymakers and libraries are having their time and resources wasted by a well-funded syndicate of ideologues and unscrupulous organizations[2] hawking bogus legal theories and doomed ebook legislation in the states. In follow-up posts, I’ll address the status of those ebook bills and discuss exactly what the CDL white paper of 2018 proposes and its implications for real libraries.

[1] In Donaldson v. Beckett (February 22, 1774).

[2] EFF, Fight for the Future, Library Futures, Authors Alliance.

Internet Archive Defender Alleges the Second Circuit Doesn’t Know the Law

In a recent article for The Scholarly Kitchen, Todd A. Carpenter, Executive Director of the National Information Standards Organization (NISO), defends Internet Archive (in Hachette et al. v. Internet Archive) and the practice called Controlled Digital Lending (CDL). Proving that one need not be Lindsey Graham to engage in propaganda disguised as legal opinion, Carpenter predictably elides any mention of authors’ interest in this case and makes erroneous statements of law, but he goes a step further by alleging bias or incompetence at the court. First, he mischaracterizes the case thus:

Publishers were not simply seeking to end a short-term program, but are seeking to limit the ability of libraries to engage in new approaches to existing rights that libraries have as established in copyright law.

To describe IA’s so-called National Emergency Library as a “short-term program” is too cute by half, but more important is the rest of that sentence. A “new approach to existing rights”? That’s like saying the Jan. 6 rioters took a “new approach” to the rights of assembly and speech. Except in IA’s case, the “existing rights” don’t exist in the first place.

Rights have contours and limits. And in copyright law, the various exceptions carved out for libraries and archives described in Section 108 do not allow the practice described as CDL, which is why IA put all its eggs in the basket of a fair use defense. But Carpenter, clearly unaware as to how weak that defense is, alleges that the district court judge rushed to a myopic decision . . .

Judge Koeltl has a reputation for prompt judgements in these types of cases and the turnaround of the judgement shouldn’t be read as reinforcing the obviousness of the decision, as some have done.

Judge John G. Koeltl was nominated to the federal bench by President Clinton in 1994, and I am skeptical that Carpenter possesses any data to show that the judge’s turnaround time “in these types of cases” is unusually brief. More to the point, Carpenter clearly does not know enough copyright law to understand exactly why the quick decision at summary judgment was indeed obvious—namely that IA’s fair use defenses have already been argued and decided in this same circuit.

There are so many quotes from precedent cases in Judge Koeltl’s decision that his opinion could almost be described as boilerplate—i.e., settled law. CDL is not allowed by statute, so IA cobbled together a tenuous fair use theory, every aspect of which has been presented by other parties (e.g., ReDigi, TVEyes), which Carpenter presumes to suggest the courts cannot understand.

The Internet Archive is aggressively seeking to extend this argument and will push it up the Appeals Court ladder as far as they can to advance their aims. I am not certain, however, that the court system, as it is currently populated, will be receptive to the IA’s arguments.

First, let me predict that the appellate court will very quickly affirm the district court ruling because this is an easy case, and I will further predict that the Supreme Court will not grant cert because this is an easy case. Yes, there are, and have been, judges with personal views on copyright (e.g., Ginsburg generally pro; Breyer generally anti), but the only kind of judge who would find that IA’s Open Library is fair use is one with little or no experience in copyright law whatsoever.

Unfortunately for IA and Friends, the Second Circuit has the longest, and perhaps the richest, body of copyright case law of any circuit in the country. To allege judicial bias is fine (and I have plenty of bones to pick with plenty of judges), but the implication that the arguments presented in Hachette are too nuanced or visionary for the “current population” of judges is a smokescreen obscuring Carpenter’s inaccurate framing of the merits . . .

The judge twisted himself into argumentative pretzels to define IA’s work as commercial.

So simple, and yet that one sentence clearly expresses a deep well of ignorance about the “commerciality” question under the first factor analysis of the fair use test. Simply put, even a non-profit entity can still obtain “benefits” or “advantages” through its exploitation of the in-copyright works at issue, and this tilts away from fair use. For example, if a church uses unlicensed artwork to make tee shirts promoting itself or a message it endorses—even if it gives the shirts away—this use may be held “commercial” under factor one in a fair use analysis. The case law is pellucid on the various ways in which IA obtains “benefits” or “advantages,” and if Carpenter et al. see “twisting,” it is only because they are unfamiliar with the well-trod paths Judge Koeltl is following.

This ruling inherently narrows fair use and relegates library use to either the aggressively controlled digital subscription ecosystem, a very narrowly constrained use case set, or the domain of the purely physical. 

See my post on Critiquing Copyright in the Digital Age under Use of Utter Bullshit. When a party argues for the expansion of a doctrine—and here IA advocates broadening fair use to encompass its CDL theory—the court’s rejection of that expansion does not result in narrowing the doctrine but instead affirms the status quo.

Again, the Second Circuit has been here and done this. By its own description, it “pushed fair use to its limits” in the Google Books and Hathi Trust cases, which Judge Koeltl cites thus: “If HathiTrust and Google Books demarcated the boundaries of fair use, this case shows what conduct remains squarely beyond fair use.” That’s not narrowing. That’s saying the court (specifically, this court) has drawn the lines the defendant is attempting to cross. The unstated implication: if you want to change the law so dramatically, Congress is your only venue.

The publishers did not pursue the many libraries that have used much more limited applications of CDL to serve their constituents.

Here, Carpenter implies that IA is being picked on by the publishers because IA’s conduct is exemplary of what libraries are already doing. And it’s easy to generalize and refer vaguely to “more limited applications of CDL,” but the thing about law (fair use analysis in particular) is that it is fact intensive.

Which library is engaged in which specific activity that is directly analogous to IA’s infringing conduct? Because if any library is producing and distributing its own ebooks to people all over the world, that library is violating the law. If the library is instead engaged in some other practice clearly exempted by statute, then Carpenter et al. should stop conflating IA’s Open Library with ordinary library practices. If it’s something else, then Carpenter et al. should stop generalizing and be specific.

The contract-law focused world of copyright for digital content is much more heavily weighted to the benefit of publishers and to the greatest extent possible, publishers would prefer it remain there. It is to every consumer’s detriment that we continue to move ever more in this direction in all manner of our digital lives.

I have no idea WTAF any of that means and am willing to bet Carpenter doesn’t either. Because it sounds like sloganeering—chumming the waters for emotional responses that override basic reason. And the basics are not very complicated. Authors write books. If you like books, then you need to recognize that authors’ copyright rights play an essential role in incentivizing them to write and distribute books—through retail, through libraries, on paper, in digital formats, audio, etc.

Carpenter is wrong to the point of lying when he implies that this case is more nuanced than the courts understand. It isn’t. It’s a straightforward matter if one knows the case law which, conveniently for IA, most people do not. What complicates this story in the court of public opinion, therefore, is that IA is a presumptive good guy who happens to be doing a bad thing. Its Open Library undermines core copyright rights for authors in ways that go beyond the world of libraries—and beyond books for that matter.

This case is not about libraries or “our digital lives” or the many platitudes attached to the subject of technology and cultural works. It’s about denying any party the opportunity to strip individuals of the basic right to protect and derive income from their creative work. And if Carpenter et al. see a difference between trying to silence authors through censorious laws or silencing authors by disenfranchising them in the market, then they’re just drinking a different color Kool-Aid.

Thaler Suit Against Copyright Office Asks for Analog Reading of Statute

Last February, the U.S. Copyright Office rejected the registration application filed by Stephen Thaler for a visual work entitled “A Recent Entrance to Paradise.” Thaler averred that the image was generated by an AI he designed called “Creativity Machine,” and on that basis, the Office affirmed the longstanding doctrine that copyright rights only attach to works of human authorship. In a series of cross motions, Thaler now argues that “non-humans have been authors under the statute for more than a hundred years.”

Broadly, Thaler asks the court for statutory interpretations based on proving a negative—namely that the Copyright Act does not explicitly state that an author must be human, or that an author cannot be non-human. His brief is peppered with examples in which the law does not expressly prohibit a non-human from having an “idea” or making creative “choices.” And he’s right. Nothing in the law makes such statements, but why would it? It is only very recently that law—and not just copyright law—must confront issues presented by sophisticated machines capable of performing functions ordinarily reserved for humans.

Prior to the present moment, it would have been absurd to affirmatively state that works of creativity or invention must be made by human beings. And it is frankly still absurd. Vehicular law does not explicitly state that the rules apply solely to human drivers (though we may have to address this one); marital law does not explicitly state that the parties must be human; and most relevant to this discussion, employment law does not explicitly state that non-discrimination and other rules of fairness apply only to human persons. Employment law is informative because Thaler’s primary claim of copyright in the visual work rests on the Work Made for Hire (WMFH) doctrine on the basis that “Creativity Machine” is the legal equivalent of an employee. But here, Thaler asks the court to read the law both strictly and metaphorically at the same time. Because nowhere in employment law are any rights vested in the analogous employee. For instance, the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission states:

Under the laws enforced by EEOC, it is illegal to discriminate against someone (applicant or employee) because of that person’s race, color, religion, sex (including gender identity, sexual orientation, and pregnancy), national origin, age (40 or older), disability or genetic information.

Title VII does not emphatically state that those qualities must describe human persons, but if we look to the definition of “persons,” we find …

The term “person” includes one or more individuals, governments, governmental agencies, political subdivisions, labor unions, partnerships, associations, corporations, legal representatives, mutual companies, joint-­stock companies, trusts, unincorporated organizations, trustees, trustees in cases under Title 11 [originally, bankruptcy], or receivers.

So, if we are following Thaler’s supposedly rigorous statutory interpretation, we can end the discussion by noting that there is no mention of computers, algorithms, machines, robots, etc. to support the argument that “Creativity Machine” is an employable “person” as an operation of law. Indeed, even the non-human entities in the definition above do not exist except as various means to organize the work or interests of human persons, and this is relevant to the copyright question presented.

While it is true that entities like corporations can own copyrights, the rights themselves do not exist until the moment of fixation of a human’s conception and the result of a human’s effort. Until then, there are no rights which may be transferred to the entity—either by independent or employment contract. Human authorship is not removed from the production of the work by the administrative formalities entailed with corporate ownership. On the contrary, human authorship must occur in order for the rights to exist at all.

This same principle applies to Thaler’s semantic game alleging that pseudonymous or anonymous works become works of non-human authorship merely because the term of protection is no longer based on the lifetime of the author. This makes no sense. Does Thaler argue that works made prior to the 1976 Act were not works of human authorship simply because they were protected under fixed terms unrelated to the life of the authors? He is conflating administrative rules (which are admittedly more complicated than necessary) with the doctrine of human authorship, which predates those rules by a few centuries.

Simply put, there is no concept of copyright law anywhere in western culture in which the utilitarian purpose of incentivizing authors to produce and disseminate works is not intertwined with the principle that the fruits of intellectual labor are the property of the author as a matter of natural right. The hyper-utilitarian view often overlooks the natural rights vested in the author, but the bundle of rights codified in Section 106 of the Copyright Act are as intangible and violable as any other civil right articulated by statute.  And such rights do not exist without humans.

Thaler and others are free to invoke philosophical debate as to whether an AI can have “ideas” or make creative “choices,” and it’s all fine chatter for a round of drinks, but even if it could be proven that the AI is “conscious enough” to make a choice to create and how to create, this is irrelevant as a matter of law. And we do not even need to confront AI per se. An elephant can make a painting, and a circus can own an elephant, but the circus cannot claim copyright in the painting as a WMFH because neither copyright rights nor an employment agreement exists between elephant and circus. And this is because no rights—copyright or otherwise—exist for the elephant that give her standing in court.

Personally, I believe the courts have gone too far in blurring the line between corporate and human personhood—e.g., vesting Hobby Lobby, Inc. with the right of religious exercise, but even in that controversial case, human persons, as owners of a closely held company, remain at the center of the finding. This is not so in Thaler’s claim of copyright in the visual work at issue. “Creativity Machine” is not a “person” by any statutory definition and cannot, therefore, have agreed to an employment contract in which it was understood that the employee would produce visual works under the WMFH doctrine. It is an absurdity on its face scratching at pencil shavings of statutory meaning, and Thaler’s appeal to history does him no favors.

I suspect the courts will find Thaler’s reading of the law to be untenable and will further advise that only Congress can change the Copyright Act. And if Congress were to do so in this context, I would hope that they affirmatively state that authorship must be human. If elephants don’t have such rights, why should robots?

Robot image by: sarah5