Tag: Pamela Samuelson

Things We Don’t Need: Generative AI

When I was planning to start The Illusion of More, I contemplated a category of posts under the heading We Don’t Need This. Although abandoned, I thought it might be an editorial framework for articles about innovations that really aren’t innovative, and the low-tech invention that originally inspired the idea was the kiddie-car/shopping-cart hybrid. In case you haven’t had the pleasure, this vehicle enables a small child to “drive” a plastic car attached to the basket one pushes through the supermarket. As the parent of a small child (at the time IOM was launched), I found this innovation was a terrible idea—one that demanded use the moment the child laid eyes upon it, but which mostly offered poor maneuverability through the aisles and unnecessary geometric struggle at check-out.

There is, of course, nothing connecting the kiddie-car/shopping-cart to generative AI except, in my view, the fact that we don’t need either one. Or at least, we don’t need most of what generative AI appears to be doing, and this is perhaps the most maddening aspect of the most prominent generative AI tools making the headlines—that they serve no purpose and, if we’re getting all IP about it, promote no progress. I’ve said it, and I’ll keep saying it:  we do not need computers to make artistic works.

This month, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) issued a report describing its early findings about AI’s potential harms which may be addressable under the agency’s purview. Charged with enforcing prohibitions against unfair, non-competitive business practices and protecting consumers, the FTC hosted a roundtable discussion with members of the creative community to hear their concerns about both the development and public deployment of generative AIs. As the report states:

Various competition and consumer protection concerns may arise when AI is deployed in the creative professions. Conduct–such as training an AI tool on protected expression without the creator’s consent or selling output generated from such an AI tool, including by mimicking the creator’s writing style, vocal or instrumental performance, or likeness—may constitute an unfair method of competition or an unfair or deceptive practice.

In response to the report—specifically to the passage quoted above—three well-known copyright critics, Pamela Samuelson, Matthew Sag, and Christopher Sprigman (SS&S) criticized the FTC “both for its opacity and for the ways in which it may be interpreted (or misinterpreted) to chill innovation and restrict competition in the markets for AI technologies.” Before responding to that allegation, I must indulge in a little gallows humor and mention that the economic and global-security leader of the free world is in danger of shredding its Constitution, going full-tilt authoritarian, and spiraling into a deathroll of ignorance and cruelty. And yet, we’re going to talk about “chilling innovation” in generative AI as if it’s a matter of urgency. The world is in crisis, and billions have been invested to see who can do the best job getting a computer to write a poem or make a picture? Talk about whimpers instead of bangs.

There are two reasons that sentiment is not raw Ludditism. The first is that it does not dismiss all AI development in the creative industry as useless; and the second is that the “copyright stifles innovation” bullet point is a generalization that should never be uttered again—especially in light of its direct role in fostering the above-mentioned prospect of democracy’s collapse. We’ve heard all this before—specifically from SS&S and their colleagues in academia and the “digital rights” organizations. We’ve been told that copyright stifles the free and open internet, access to information, and the speech right.

But in addition to the fact that the premise itself was false, the grand social media experiment in the “democratization of everything” must be recognized as an abysmal failure, and its cheerleaders should muster the humility to stifle their tiresome and dangerous refrains in context to AI. Social media companies and their friends in academia—and here, I must include President Obama’s Google-friendly administration—share considerable blame for the heedless, tech-enabled populism that has fostered so many social hazards, including a literal seditionist now leading one of America’s two political parties.

Notably, the FTC report does not mention copyright very much, and in fact, many of the creative professionals who participated in the discussions acknowledged that because they are not copyright owners (e.g., voice actors and screenwriters for hire were among the representatives), they do not have rights currently protecting them against generative AI resulting in the kind of unfair outcomes, which the FTC is charged with mitigating. It would take too long a post to respond to all the critiques presented by SS&S, but I wanted to focus on this statement:

We are concerned especially about the suggestion in the FTC’s Comments that AI training might be a Section 5 violation where it “diminishes the value of [a creator’s] existing or future works.” A hallmark of competition is that it diminishes the returns that producers are likely to garner relative to a less competitive marketplace. This is just as likely to be true in markets for creative goods, such as novels and paintings, as it is in markets for ordinary tangible goods like automobiles and groceries. AI agents that produce outputs that are not substantially similar to any work on which the AI agent was trained, and are thus not infringing on any particular copyright owner’s rights, are lawful competition for the works on which they are trained.  Surely the FTC does not plan to have Section 5 displace the judgments of copyright law on what is and what is not lawful competition?

To summarize, that paragraph declares that it does not matter if generative AI displaces human authors, that in fact, it is a threshold we should be eager to cross. Notwithstanding the fact that two of the high-profile lawsuits present compelling evidence of substantially similar outputs,[1] the more concerning implication of that paragraph is that SS&S endorse the inevitability that generative AI will devalue human creators and/or eliminate them altogether. Moreover, calling this eventuality a form of “competition” reveals an unsettling perspective consistent with every anti-copyright paper I have ever read—namely, that the production of creative works is no different than the production of any other product or service.

I’ve said many times that copyright critics don’t understand artists, and here, the inapt word competition demonstrates why this axiom endures. For instance, publishers are in competition with one another to an extent, but authors are not—at least not in the sense that the concept applies in other industries—least of all Big Tech. No novelist, for instance, wants to hold the undivided and exclusive attention of all readers the way Meta wants eyeballs never to stray for long from its platforms. Artists thrive in a diverse market of other artists, consumers benefit as a result, and copyright is an engine of that diversity, not a barrier to it. Artists may feel competitive or jealous at times, or even behave in a competitive manner (because they’re human), but the reality is that they need one another to exist at a scale that is not comparable to other “businesses.” True to form, copyright critics like to cite the interdependence of authors to highlight copyright’s limitations but then ignore the same principle in support of tech giants swallowing all creative enterprise whole.

The primary concern expressed by SS&S appears to be that the FTC alleges that AI training with copyrighted works is an act of infringement. Unsurprisingly, this same trio submitted comments to the Copyright Office arguing that AI training with protected works is fair use, but as that very question is already presented in several court cases, I assume SS&S are primarily concerned with optics here. The trio states, “The FTC has no authority to determine what is and what is not copyright infringement, or what is or is not fair use. Under governing law, that is a judicial function.”

Exactly. And the question is now before the courts. So, what’s the problem? That the FTC should not even raise the issue? According to tweets by Samuelson and Sprigman, they argue that the FTC’s report is one-sided, that it is too creator-focused and does not account for the testimony or opinions of the technology companies developing AI. But while I certainly agree that multistakeholder hearings etc. are the proper approach to developing new policy, it is impossible to tolerate a complaint about lack of balance coming from the anti-copyright crowd at all, and from these individuals in particular. For instance, readers may not remember the American Law Institute Restatement of Copyright, initiated by Samuelson and led by Sprigman, but critics of the project—some of the most prominent names in copyright scholarship—specifically cite the opacity of the restatement process and deafness of its managers to the concerns and recommendations of their colleagues.

More broadly, it must be said that if, indeed, the FTC lately gave more attention to the creators than they did to the tech companies, then this was a long overdue anomaly. Between at least the mid-late 1990s and 2016, the tech companies were treated with kid gloves, handed the keys to Washington, and feted like the economic and democratic engines they claimed to be. Since 2016, sentiment began to swing in the other direction, as many Americans began to see how disinformation plus data manipulation can become a wrecking ball for a whole society.

If Big Tech lost the previously undeserved benefit of the doubt, good. AI has the potential to exacerbate many of the same Web 2.0 harms at unprecedented speed and scale, and if the FTC, the USCO, the courts, or Congress look askance at the developers, then it is a mistrust well earned. And again, at least with regard to generative AI designed to make creative works, none of the parties empowered to write policy in this area should forget the bottom line:  that when it comes to producing creative work, we truly do not need generative AI.

[1] Concord et al. v. Anthropic and NYT v. Open AI, et al

SEE ALSO: The Washington Post reported this month that Big Tech continues to significantly fund and influence academia in these policy areas.

Photo by: Jollier

Ideologues Seek Revision of Copyright Law Without Legislative Process

One of the reasons someone like me mucks about in copyright law is that all law is an exercise in language.  Especially because English comprises more words and, therefore, more shades of meaning than any language in the world, the logophile who enjoys a good fuss, bother, muse, agitation, or dither over deployment of le mot juste shares a kinship with the legislator, judge, or attorney whose choice of words can have profound consequences for generations of people.

If law can be described as an attempt to shape civilization by means of imperfect language, how could the subject not be a flame to the word-geek’s moth?  And since the heart of copyright law is expression itself, it is naturally a region where one can spend considerable time exploring avenues, boulevards, and dark alleys on a journey of semantic discovery.  On the other hand, the linguistic ambiguity that is the word lover’s playground can also be a source of frustration in the application of law, which is why context framed by precedent plays such a critical role.

But in the United States, where most laws are state laws, a broad framework of precedent is often impossible in certain specialities.  No single attorney or judge can, for example, track the commonalities among all the tort law cases decided in the fifty states in order to find some consensus on the meaning of fundamental and evolving principles.  In answer to this, a century-old organization called the American Law Institute publishes what are known as Restatements of Law, primarily for the purpose of consolidating and synthesizing the disparate body of common law into guidelines that may be cited in court almost as though they were statutory, or black-letter, law.

But in a move that would normally go unnoticed by anyone outside the legal profession, a small group of copyright skeptics, initially led by Berkeley Law Professor Pamela Samuelson, embarked on a Restatement project for copyright law.  This is unprecedented.  ALI Restatements have never been written for comprehensive federal laws like copyright because these are already statutory, or black-letter, laws.  Congress writes the statutes, the judiciary interprets them, and attorneys make their arguments; but everybody’s working from the same statutes and a much more narrow body of case law than common law entails.   Hence, this request for a Restatement of copyright law represents an end-run around Congress—an effort to reshape the Copyright Act without a legislative process.

The ALI Restatement process is methodical, iterative, and ultimately requires ratification by vote of the entire membership.  Once a Restatement is issued—in fact, even before it is fully ratified and published—segments can be cited in court, so the institution does not take the process lightly.  Drafts are written by a small group of attorneys called Reporters, and other ALI members are invited to submit comments as Advisers. The Reporters are, however, not required to defer to any of the Advisers; and a key concern among rights holders about this project is that its five Reporters are known to be highly critical of copyright with particular bias toward the anti-copyright agenda of internet companies.  Most prominently, lead Reporter Christopher Sprigman serves as counsel to Spotify, which at least raises the question of a conflict of interest.

Because this project is unprecedented in the history of ALI, a response last week from music attorney Dina LaPolt pulls no punches, asserting that the institution is at risk of undermining its well-earned credibility by exceeding its tradition of filling in gaps in the law and instead rewriting law that is well-established.  “The problem is that ALI has been hijacked by a handful of agenda-driven academics, who are drafting the text of the ALI treatise in a way that reflects their subjective view of copyright law, not the objective summary they were directed to create. Some of these academics have in the past tried to lobby Congress for changes that would weaken copyright protection — unsuccessfully. And for reasons I cannot understand, ALI has decided to be complicit in a process that will harm creators and likely benefit technology giants,” LaPolt writes in Billboard.  In the same publication, Robert Levine cites a letter obtained by the magazine in which acting Register of Copyrights Karyn Temple Claggett calls the prospective Restatement “a pseudo version of the Copyright Act.”

Looking at this as an outsider, it is hard to imagine how this Restatement process, originally created to distill clarity out of the dynamic mosaic of common law, would not, at best, foster new areas of confusion in copyright.  Presumably, the Reporters imagine rewriting copyright law as they believe it should be—and this is already an affront to the legislative process—but it’s not as though the considerable body of statutory and case law copyright knowledge will simply evaporate. Restatements clearly serve an invaluable purpose where no statute or collective understanding exists; but where well-founded and longstanding statutory knowledge is already present, confusion seems inevitable.

Copyright law contains statutory language dating back to the start of the nation, and its stately growth in complexity is a cumulative and fairly linear narrative that, not by coincidence, parallels the narrative of technological innovation. Nevertheless, language remains imperfect, subject to interpretation and persuasive argument; so it seems to this non-attorney that adding what might be described as a holographic copyright law (to build on Claggett’s comment) that would sit on top of well-established precedent would only inject greater uncertainty in the courts.

These Restatement projects take years.  This one actually began in 2015 and is only being discussed in a limited way in public fora as of last week.  And while it is hard to say exactly where this process will go—it really is inside baseball for the legal profession—rights holders should not lose sight of the fact that the forces opposed to copyright’s core principles, many of which are direct beneficiaries of the internet industry’s assault on creators, are clearly willing to achieve their ends by any means necessary.  Isn’t it curious that the parties who so vehemently insist that copyright is incompatible with democracy are rather quick to throw democracy under the bus in order to get what they want?

Photo by designer491

Copyright Principles & Consensus?

Yesterday, the House Judiciary Committee held a hearing meant to lay some of the groundwork for overhauling copyright law in the United States.  The title of the hearing is “A Case Study in Consensus Building: The Copyright Principles Project,” suggesting that the “project” is about establishing premises and ground rules for how the debate might be framed going forward.  I suppose because the word consensus is also part of the title, several lawmakers and the witnesses called to testify repeated the rhetorical question as to why debate about copyright has become so contentious.  For authors and creators who actually use copyrights to forge professional careers and build businesses, this feint at decorum will elicit a justifiable sneer because it’s kinda like saying, “All someone did was spit in your eye, and I don’t know why we can’t now have a civil discussion about the principles of expectoration.”  Of course, there weren’t any authors or creators present at this hearing, and that in itself has been cause for concern.

For the lawmakers who asked the question in earnest as to why the debate on this issue can be so vituperative, they need only have paid close attention to one subtle but significant choice of words in the testimony of Professor Pamela Samuelson when she was asked about the matter of online piracy.  Samuelson, the lead author of The Copyright Principles Project, stated that individual artists are at “some disadvantage” in protecting their rights on the internet.  Some disadvantage?  Like a lone Boy Scout would be at some disadvantage fending off a mechanized armored division.  The thing about consensus is that you can’t ask for it if you’re going to propose a foundation of “principles” predicated on lies and half truths.  The correct answer to the question asked of Professor Samuels is “Individual artists don’t stand a chance of protecting their rights on the internet; they might as well shout their grievances into the next passing hurricane for all the remedies and resources at their disposal.”  Had the good professor said something remotely descriptive of the true nature of this problem, then perhaps we can have a big ol’ debate as to whether or not anybody cares, as I suspect many lawmakers and fellow citizens do.  Keep in mind that the scale of the problem as I describe is not even disputed by some of copyright’s most vocal antagonists and piracy’s most vocal supporters.  “You can’t stop it, don’t try” was a familiar mantra during the dustup over SOPA, and with just one BitTorrent site claiming three billion page views a month, they may be right. But let’s not equivocate as to what creators are up against as we presume to “build consensus.”

This past March, The Wall Street Journal published a profile of the anti-piracy unit within NBCUniversal, and even this group of dedicated professionals funded by a major corporation can hardly keep up with the rate or volume of unlicensed distribution of their properties.  By contrast, independent filmmaker Ellen Seidler has documented in great detail exactly what the experience is like trying to protect just one small, niche film from being hijacked and monetized by criminals and Google.  Lawmakers should be aware of the facts and aware of the obfuscation, however subtle, being employed by academics like Professor Samuelson.  At the same time, the general public should be aware that not every idea that comes out of an academic’s head makes it automatically a good idea no matter how prestigious their company.  In academia, one doesn’t make a name for oneself by defending the status quo, but rather by bucking a system, even going so far as to identify “problems” within a system that may not be problems at all. Academic study is critical to a progressive enriched society, but we should never underestimate the motivating factors of ego and self-promotion and grant acquisition when reading between the lines.

On the subject of what is supposedly wrong with copyright, the other theme of the day in addition to why we can’t just all get along, was a substantial amount of griping and joking about complexity.  Copyright law is too complex, say the witnesses and a few legislators, and I have no doubt that it is complex and maybe too complex in certain areas that require streamlining.  But as a general rule, is copyright law more complexly burdensome than any number of other laws?  Isn’t that why people study the law in challenging post-graduate schools and then have to pass a really hard test before they’re allowed to practice the discipline professionally?  More to the point, though, if technology has made the world of consuming content more complex, is it disingenuous to suggest that revising copyright to balance the rights of authors and consumers in the digital age would not produce an even more complex set of statutes?  And if more complexity is required, so be it; but that’s not what’s being proposed.  What’s being proposed, at least by Samuelson & Co., is to simplify the legal system, which sounds good in theory; but it seems to me that the only way to “simplify” a law in an ever more complex world is to eliminate key functions of that law.  And since copyright’s key functions are the protection of authors and inventors, this begins to echo David Lowery’s distillation of the internet industry agenda:  “All your data are belong to us.”  No question that’s very simple.

So, again, the premise issuing from the chamber and reverberating on Twitter is predicated on smart sounding academic theory (i.e. simplifying a law) entirely untethered to a real or pragmatic world view.  The premise being proposed is that copyright ought to be easier to understand for any layman because it is now “everyone’s issue” because in the digital age, “we are all authors.”  This was the oft-repeated theme of live tweets by Gigi Sohn, President and co-founder of Public Knowledge and echoed at least once by Mike Masnick of Techdirt.  Of course, the truth is that just because the internet fosters a lot of production of stuff, that doesn’t make us all authors anymore than corporate softball teams make us all ballplayers.  On my best day, I don’t write as well as many authors I admire deeply; and on my worst day, I’m better than many a citizen whose claim to authorship is the possession of a smart phone and a pair of thumbs. So one can sit in tech-industry funded ivory towers and ruminate over the proposition that a novel by Steven Millhauser is of equal value to the random bits of personal detritus shared on social media, but if we consider for a moment that copyright ought to be amended based on this childishly whimsical proposition, then we might as well start burning the libraries this afternoon.

Speaking of Mr. Masnick, he live tweeted that his blood pressure was being elevated by the hearing because, as usual, “Congress doesn’t get the internet.” This is a familiar cheap shot available to anybody with an axe to grind.  One can start the sentence “Congress doesn’t get _______” and find any citizen or group to fill in that blank with their personal gripe du jour.  Of course it was very clear that certain lawmakers, including Hon. Collins, Hon. Chu, and Hon. Goodlatte, that Congress is not at all willing to automatically swallow unsubstantiated, academic theory as the sole basis for rewriting a legal system that has made the United States a leader in the professional production of creative and cultural works for more than two centuries. And had there been any creators asked to testify, they would have clearly demonstrated that academics like Professor Samuelson don’t know the first thing about the production of creative works or the nature of protecting them.  Somehow, all this translates into the failure of congress to understand the internet, but maybe it’s not that so much as some of the ideas being presented are kinda dumb and transparently self-serving.

On that last point, as more hearings like this one are convened in what will surely be a years-long process toward some kind of reform, we should not forget who the monied interests are that have the most to gain from weaker copyright laws.  The premise most often asserted in the name of “consensus” is that we cannot allow supposedly outdated legal systems to stand in the way of innovations that benefit society.  Again, this is a perfectly reasonable sounding position, but there should not be a lawmaker of any party who does not include economic growth in his or her definition of innovation, and this recent article in The Daily Beast should serve as a caution in light of the fact that intellectual property supported jobs still number in the tens of millions.  As the article’s author Joel Kotkin points out, “Today’s tech moguls don’t employ many Americans, they don’t pay very much in taxes or tend to share much of their wealth, and they live in a separate world that few of us could ever hope to enter. But while spending millions bending the political process to pad their bottom lines, they’ve remained far more popular than past plutocrats, with 72 percent of Americans expressing positive feelings for the industry, compared to 30 percent for banking and 20 percent for oil and gas.”

Copyright may be a little hard to understand, and some members of congress might not “get” the internet, but it doesn’t take a law degree or expertise in code writing to know what a contemporary Robber Baron looks like, does it?