Tag: Jonathan Band

Another Inscrutable Attack on Copyright by CCIA 

In a blog post last week for Project DiSCO (of the CCIA), Jonathan Band uses less-than-subtle sleight of hand to conflate the potential business implications of new photographic technology with photographers’ interests in copyright enforcement.  Citing a Washington Post article by Geoffrey Fowler, which proposes that ever-improving, AI-enhanced photographic tools built into smart phones are “democratizing” the opportunity for anyone to make “beautiful” photographs, Band notes that these technological advancements threaten the livelihoods of at least some segment of professional photographers.  

“Now, someone with a decent eye and a Pixel 3 can take photographs that are good enough for many events. The default aesthetics of Night Sight [a new technology] will satisfy many, if not most, potential customers,” Band writes.  And this may be true up to a point.  Off-the-shelf, push-button technical “perfection” in the hands of everyone can threaten the market value of many types of professional photographers.  

Of course that premise opens up a multi-faceted discussion about the myriad skills necessary to be a great portraitist, photojournalist, fine-art photographer, and so on.  And while that particular conversation may be very engaging, it has almost nothing to do with any particular photographer’s interest in her copyrights, and it has even less to do with the target of Band’s criticism—the copyright small-claim proposal called the CASE Act. 

“In response to this changing technological landscape, many of the organizations representing photographers have focused their energies on reforming copyright,” Band writes.  But this is a disingenuous segue because CASE is not remotely a response to changes in photographic capture technology.  The right or ability to protect an image is agnostic with regard to how the image is made.  Period.  Moreover, the premise of the CASE Act (i.e. enforcing a copyright claim for less than the cost of federal litigation) actually predates digital technology, although widespread infringement of works online does emphasize the urgent need for a small-claim remedy.

As described in this post about the House Judiciary hearings on CASE in September, one of the major complaints among independent creators is that commercial entities use their works for online marketing etc. without license.  If CASE passes, we can probably expect to see rights holders most often avail themselves of the small claim tribunal for these types of claims; and it is frankly impossible to fathom why anybody who cares about basic fairness in the market would have a problem with that.  Least of all the corporate behemoths represented by CCIA.  

Moreover, while it is true that advocacy of CASE has emphasized the plight of photographers—because theirs are the works most often infringed on the web—we should remind the CCIA and its readers that the bill proposes a small-claim option for all copyrightable works.  So, at best, Band’s focus on the latest advancements in cellphone photography have nothing to do with, say, musicians or graphic artists whose works are infringed in cases ideally suited to a small claim. 

Band’s post is, of course, a variation on a tired theme; and in that regard, I feel confident about telling the folks at CCIA (and the Internet Association also opposed to CASE) that authors of all stripes are sick to death of the following words of wisdom …

“The energy of associations representing photographers would be better directed toward helping photographers develop business models and skills that would allow them to thrive in the digital environment, rather than lobbying Congress to make changes to copyright law of questionable utility.”

Perhaps the energy of associations representing THE BIGGEST TECH CORPORATIONS ON EARTH would be better directed at playing Beer Pong than smugly telling professional creators time and again how little they they understand their own crafts and business interests.  Maybe CCIA can adapt to that new model.

 Photo source by meatbull

ReDigi, Fair Use, and Libraries

Photo by author.

In my last post, I opined that the fair use interests of librarians and educators are not necessarily aligned with for-profit business ventures seeking to exploit creative works in ways that can harm authors.  For instance, in the case of Capitol Records v ReDigi, now on appeal at the Second Circuit,  Jonathan Band filed an amicus brief on behalf of the American Library Association, the Association of College and Research Libraries, the Association of Research Libraries, and the Internet Archive in favor of a reversal of the district court opinion, which held that ReDigi is infringing.

To the casual observer, ReDigi is a service that acts as a middle-man to broker the sale of “used” MP3 files.  The idea is that, when you decide you’ve listened to your iTunes-purchased copy of Meat Loaf’s “Bat Out of Hell”* for the last time and think somebody else might want it,  you can sell the MP3 files via ReDigi as “used” items for a portion of the original price, with a cut going to ReDigi.  From a legal standpoint, however, ReDigi is a somewhat complex, computer-to-computer model hoping to avail itself of a copyright limitation written for a purely physical world.

To the best of my knowledge, the ReDigi model has changed a couple of times, but the way the system works is that the MP3 files being offered for sale are removed from the seller’s devices and copied onto the ReDigi server from which the seller alone may still listen to the tracks until they are purchased by someone else.  Upon sale, the files are removed from the server and copied again onto a device belonging to the purchaser. Naturally, this sounds attractive to many consumers, and ReDigi seems to have made an effort to ensure, to the best of its ability, that only one owner at a time has the files.  But that doesn’t necessarily make the service legal, or even a good idea in the market.

The district court held that ReDigi infringes the plaintiff’s rights of reproduction and distribution. ReDigi’s defenses that it is non-infringing were based on the first sale doctrine and fair use; and it is with regard to the fair use defense that the libraries apparently see a common interest.

Band’s amicus brief argues that a finding of fair use in ReDigi would set a precedent that furthers the interest of libraries to develop new models for digital-age lending and other services. And this is where I personally see a necessary distinction between the interests of libraries—which sometimes receive specific carve-outs in copyright law—and avoiding the particular harms caused by a ReDigi model, which could very easily be an Amazon-scale service overnight.

Digital First Sale Creates an Artificially Deflated Market

The first sale doctrine (Section 109(a) of the copyright law) is the reason you are allowed to sell your individual copies of books, CDs, DVDs, etc. as used items without infringing the copyright interest of the authors.  Its predicate is a case from 1908, long before anyone could possibly imagine “owning” entertainment media in the form of data that is not exclusively bound by a physical object like paper or a disk.   ReDigi argued that the first sale doctrine makes its business non-infringing, but the court disagreed on statutory grounds—namely that the language “plainly applies to the lawful owner’s ‘particular’ phonorecord, a phonorecord that by definition cannot be uploaded and sold on ReDigi’s website.”

As a technical matter, ReDigi has to make a copy of the files from the “seller’s” computer to ReDigi’s server. That copy is already an infringement of the rights holders’ exclusive right of reproduction, and that copying is not protected by first sale doctrine.  But even if one wishes to argue that this is a mere technicality, there is still ample reason not to apply first sale doctrine in a purely digital market.

The District Court stated that if ReDigi seeks amendment  to the Copyright Act to satisfy its interpretation of first sale, that this is job of Congress and not the courts. On that subject, Congress has reviewed first sale doctrine as part of its comprehensive review of the Copyright Act. (In fact, I sat on a panel in 2014 hosted by the USPTO discussing this very issue.) And the Department of Commerce examined the subject of digital first sale and concluded that the principle did not apply to digital transmissions and that there is no evidence warranting any change to existing law.

I advocate against digital first sale for the simple reason that digital files cannot be “used” according to any rational definition of that term.  Since 1908, the distinction between the used, secondary market for these goods and the primary market has been clear, with the former posing no threat to the latter.  Even in cases in which used items appreciate in value (e.g. rare books), I would argue this will only ever apply to physical goods and not to raw data that may be endlessly copied from device to device. (A signed, first edition Yeats is worth a couple grand; an eBook containing the same written material is free.)

Because a “used” digital file is as pristine as a “new” digital file, a service operating at scale like a ReDigi (or an Amazon) would simply create a new primary (or alternative) market that artificially degrades pricing for digital-only works.  Regardless of the fact that some consumers feel that any price above zero is a “rip off,” the reality is that we pay comparatively low prices for the media we store today, and even lower prices for media we access through subscription or ad-funded models.  If anything, Congress should reaffirm that first sale applies solely to physically-bound, legally acquired, copies of works.

ReDigi’s Fair Use Argument and the Libraries’ Interests

Apparently unconcerned with the potential harms of a ReDigi model in the consumer market, the above-named library organization would like the appeals court to find that ReDigi’s service is a fair use under the first prong of the fair use test:  1) The purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit purposes.

Initially, ReDigi sought to defend its position as a cloud service—that users have a fair use right to store their files in the cloud; and Capitol did not dispute this part of the argument.  But the fact that this storage was “incident to sale” of the works meant that ReDigi’s service falls “outside the ambit of fair use.”  The district court agreed.  Moreover, the court held that ReDigi’s use was not “transformative” because its service does not add anything to the works and that the commercial nature of the use tilted away from a finding of fair use.  The other three prongs of the fair use test do not favor ReDigi, particularly the fourth, given that their use can clearly cause market harm to the rights holders.

In his brief, Jonathan Band takes a curious position that the lower court failed to understand how ReDigi is protected by first sale doctrine and that a reversal of this reasoning would support a finding of fair use.  He writes …

“The district court overlooked the obvious fact that the use ReDigi sought to enable was analogous to one permitted by a central feature of the Copyright Act: the first sale right, codified at 17 U.S.C. § 109(a). The district court found that ReDigi’s uses did not fall within the scope of section 109(a) because the first sale doctrine is a limitation on the distribution right, not the reproduction right, and ReDigi’s service involves reproduction. However, the similarity between ReDigi’s service and conduct permitted under section 109(a) should have weighed in ReDigi’s favor under the first fair use factor.”

Going back to what first sale allows—namely that you are free to sell that “Bat Out of Hell” CD at a yard sale—fair use doesn’t enter the picture at all. Your right to sell your particular copy of a book or album is not a use of a copyrighted work that in any way implicates a fair use defense.  So, even if these petitioners could persuade the court that it is sufficient that ReDigi is “analogous” to the application of the first sale principle, it is hard to imagine how this favors a finding of fair use, which is supposedly the real interest among these librarians.

My read is that the argument Band presents seems over-broad—a hope that a finding of fair use in ReDigi will open a wider door for libraries to develop new means to fulfill their missions in a digital world.  In this sense, Band appeals to the Google Books case, in which Google Books prevailed on fair use analysis to the benefit of library interests. But without writing another thousand words, suffice to say that Google Books is nothing like ReDigi.  Google Books does not engage in commercial transactions, it does not make whole works available, and it provides services that are either “transformative” (e.g. full-text search) or fair use prima-facie (making works available to the print-disabled).

A finding of fair use in ReDigi may generically support the interests of libraries (or it may not), but it seems a high price to pay to allow a harmful, for-profit company to vitiate fundamental copyright protections. As implied, this paves the way for a massive organization like Amazon to decimate what remains of the primary market for sales of creative works.  I believe these matters should be viewed separately, with libraries and universities pursuing their own interests in context to copyright law rather than riding the coattails of predatory and opportunistic business ventures.

*Nothing personal, Meat Loaf. First album that came to mind.

Jonathan Band Flogs Fair Use

Recently, on the CCIA’s Project DISCO blog, Jonathan Band wrote a post that could make a person spit out the ol’ ball gag, if you know what I mean. He tells readers that the best-selling, S&M trilogy Fifty Shades of Grey, with film adaptation opening this weekend, exists thanks to the principle of fair use, a component of U.S. copyright law.  While one must submit to the truth that Fifty Shades’s started as a work of fan fiction, derived from the source material for Stephanie Meyers’s Twilight series, one must also bristle at the manner in which Band is trying to insert fair use where it doesn’t belong.  Specifically, there cannot be a question of a fair use if there is no use in the first place; and author E.L. James (Erika Mitchell) did not use any works protected under copyrights belonging to Stephanie Meyers. To the contrary, James specifically revised her original fanfic into what became Fifty Shades in order to avoid any content that might infringe, and this stands to reason because publishers aren’t that stupid.  So why is Jonathan Band fetishizing the principle of fair use here?  And is there a safety word one can utter that will get him to stop?

In fact, now that I’ve gone there, perhaps this is the central point of this rebuttal:  fair use is not a safety word. It is not a term one can just incant in order to stop all potential claims of copyright infringement.  Even a use that is allowed by a rights holder does not become “fair” by virtue of that permission.  Fair use doctrine is a very important, but very specific, aspect of copyright law, and it’s worth noting that the United States has the most liberal application of the principle among nations that maintain strong copyrights.

In simple examples, fair use wants to protect the right of one speaker who may use a work in order to criticize, comment upon, or parody that work.  These are not the only applications of fair use, and there are four criteria applied by judges when hearing a fair use claim as a defense against an infringement claim. But absent an actual dispute over infringement, fair use is often patently obvious or utterly irrelevant. And the case of Fifty Shades of Grey, the fact that there is no conflict between Meyers and James has nothing to do with the doctrine. These authors, and authors everywhere, professional or amateur, are free to remix the beauty and the beast theme to their hearts’ content. The elements which can be copyrighted in the individual expressions are easy enough to avoid plagiarizing, which is why James can begin with a derivative fanfic of Twilight and then revise to create an original work that does not infringe.

But fair use is just one concept that the dungeon masters of the tech industry like to dress up and parade around the blogosphere in order to seduce the public to believe that certain popular works only exist in spite of copyright. Interestingly, Band’s omission of the central fact that E.L. James did not use any protected works by Stephanie Meyers means that he isn’t actually writing a defense of fair use doctrine at all. Like so many blogs and articles of its kind, this seems to be another attempt to broaden one of copyright’s exceptions into some all-purpose answer to all manner of uses where the doctrine may not apply. This can be effective based on the safe assumption that most of us are not attorneys and don’t really know how the law functions.  Hence, as a PR move, Band’s editorial aligns with the tech industry’s interest in selling the idea that all fanfic should ultimately be defined as fair use so that the activity can more easily be monetized without permission of any original authors.

To be clear, this reply to Band’s assertion about fair use is in no way an indictment of fan fiction itself. Many authors welcome the trend and even personally curate sites hosting fan fiction.  It can be a great way to interact with avid readers and fans, particularly of popular series that contain many characters and complex plots and subplots.  But fanfic enthusiasts should not be enslaved to the tech industry’s interests.  Fanfic can and does coexist with copyright law without rewriting the meaning of core doctrine.

There are plenty of great examples of fair use doctrine available, and readers should be at least a bit skeptical when the tech industry picks a particularly weak example like this one to highlight. But I get it. This story wears stiletto heels, has a whip in one hand, and a multimillion-dollar franchise in the other. It’s flashy and alluring.  But editorials like Band’s continue to overuse this false role play in which creativity is blindfolded, bound, and gagged by copyrights.  Quite the contrary.  In fact, copyright is a bit like S&M in this one regard:  if the person being “used” doesn’t grant permission and can’t set limits, it’s called aggravated rape.

ADDENDUM:  I cannot say that I am surprised Twitter lit up a bit because some readers were offended by this final paragraph in which I appear literally to be comparing copyright infringement to rape.  I would never belittle a violent and disturbing crime by equating it with a non-violent one, and I hope readers understand that the S&M theme of this story is what sparked this reference to permission.  I will add that, throughout literature, movies, TV, and journalism, authors have used the word rape metaphorically, including some months ago when Madonna actually said that piracy of her works was “like being raped.” I didn’t even agree with that simile as I thought it was making too direct a comparison.  Take that all for what it’s worth.