THResq points us to a fun, but thorough, law journal article by law student Benjamin Arrow, looking at whether or not Duff Beer, from the Simpsons, is protectable as a trademark in the real world (or you can go directly to the paper) (pdf). The analysis is actually more complex than you would think, noting that as you shift from the fictional world of the Simpsons to the real world of beer production, the issue switches from being a trademark issue to a copyright issue, where the beer is a form of a derivative work on the copyrighted expression known as the cartoon of Duff Beer.

Fox and The Simpsons’ creator, Matt Groening, developed the
idea for the fictional brand, Duff. Therefore, when a real-world
manufacturer puts out a product by the same name, one might
think that it has stolen Fox’s idea and that, as a matter of equity,
intellectual property law ought to furnish a remedy. But
intellectual property law does not protect ideas in the abstract.
While a real-world Duff manufacturer may have taken more than
just an idea, it is difficult to articulate how much more. Part of the
reason it is so difficult to conceptualize the injury Fox suffers
when another producer introduces a Duff Beer to the marketplace
stems from the fact that Duff Beer is a fictional product sold in a
fictional universe under a fictional brand name. Fox’s injury looks
very different when we suspend our disbelief and plunge into the
fictional world of Springfield, accepting the fictional reality as our
own and when we pull back, remind ourselves that The Simpsons is
nothing more than a cartoon and view Duff Beer as one element of
a vividly imagined work of animated fiction. As a consequence of
this puzzle of perspective, Fox suffers a different intellectual
property injury depending on our vantage point.

An analogy to Internet law helps explicate the puzzle. Writing
on the problem of perspective in this area of the law, Professor
Orin Kerr posits that “whenever we apply law to the Internet, we
must first decide whether to apply the law to the facts as seen from
the viewpoint of physical reality or virtual reality.” Kerr terms
the perspective from inside virtual reality the “‘internal
perspective’ of the Internet” and the point of view of an “outsider
concerned with the functioning of the network in the physical
world rather than the perceptions of a user” the “external
perspective.” In attempting to apply law to the Internet, our
perception of who is doing what to whom is not a mere cognitive
tool for conceptualizing difficult problems, Kerr contends.
Instead, our selection of perspective is itself outcome
determinative, because “[b]y choosing the perspective, we choose
the reality; by choosing the reality, we choose the facts; and by
choosing the facts, we choose the law.” While Kerr suggests
that courts may dismiss this problem of perspective as “a minor
skirmish in the ‘battle of analogies,’” he notes that courts “already
choose perspectives when they apply law to the Internet” without
realizing it.

While this may just seem like a fun, little intellectual query, the second paragraph above highlights why it’s actually pretty important. For nearly a decade, we’ve been pointing out the problems that occur when you take laws from the real world and pretend you can just apply them naturally into a virtual world. The same thing applies here to some extent. In this case, it’s resolved via copyright law, since the creation of Duff Beer may be protectable under copyright in the real world, and any such beer would be derivative. Trademark, on the other hand, which would apply in the fictional world, does not apply in the real world, since there’s no real “use in commerce” of a product known as Duff Beer.

Either way, the paper is a fun read, and actually raises a series of issues that are important and worth thinking about when discussing how the real world law applies on the internet in general and in wider “virtual” worlds.

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Techdirt Mike Masnick

Last year, we wrote about a ridiculous situation in which the Association for Information Media and Equipment (AIME) threatened UCLA, after discovering that the school had set up an online video service, that let UCLA professors put up legally licensed video clips so that students could watch them from their computers. AIME claimed that UCLA’s license did not allow for such uses. UCLA claimed this was fair use. After initially taking down the videos, UCLA decided this was worth fighting over and put the videos back up last March. At the time, we thought a lawsuit from AIME would come quickly, but apparently it took until December. UCLA recently filed a motion to dismiss the lawsuit, setting up a few reasons why — including the claim that, as a state university, it has sovereign immunity from copyright lawsuits and, also, that AIME is not the copyright holder in question, and thus has no standing.

However, as Kevin Smith (not the filmmaker we’ve been talking about recently, but rather someone at the Duke University Library) notes in the post above, there is an interesting claim in the motion, where UCLA suggests that the breach of contract claim (which comes under a state law) is preempted by federal copyright law. If I remember the details correctly (and you copyright lawyers out there, feel free to correct me), with the Copyright Act of 1976, that law basically superseded any state laws that covered the same grounds. Mostly, people have thought this meant that state copyright laws effectively were wiped out (though, as we’ve seen, some awful remnants of those laws remain).

However, what UCLA seems to be arguing, is that federal Copyright Law could also wipe out portions of state contract law as well, if those aspects are covered by copyright. It’s a creative way of saying that you can’t contractually give up aspects of copyright, such as fair use. Now, there are some areas where it’s known you can’t give up what copyright says via contract. You can’t, for example, contractually give up your termination rights (which let you take back a copyright you assigned to someone decades later). Also, it’s not quite the same thing, but the recent ruling in the Augusto case has suggested that there are situations where you don’t give up copyright exceptions (in that case, first sale) — but it’s distinguished by the fact that the court effectively said there was no license on promotional CDs (despite a stamped on “license” text).

So rather than relying on something like that, UCLA seems to be relying on preemption of state contract law, to say that even if you signed a license agreement, fair use rights can still apply. It’s an interesting point. I’m of a mixed opinion on whether or not it’s a good thing, however. I am a fan of such copyright exceptions, and would be worried if we started to see fair use “licensed away” in more situations. However, would that also mean that we couldn’t license away other aspects of copyright law? Would that cause trouble for certain types of licenses, like Creative Commons licenses?

I’m guessing that the court may skip over this issue entirely, in that it can just hand UCLA a victory on the sovereign immunity or lack of standing claims and just move on without addressing this issue. However, I do expect that it will show up again in other lawsuits at some point.

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Techdirt Mike Masnick

Via Gizmodo we learn of the hilarious claim that China Central Television’s news broadcast recently showed some imagery purported to show Chinese military training exercises. The only problem is that some folks recognized the footage as coming from the Hollywood movie Top Gun, starring Tom Cruise. You can see the screenshots below, comparing the CCTV news footage (on the left) with the identical frame captures from Top Gun:

Of course, I can only assume that China Central Television did not have a license to show Top Gun on TV. What are the chances that someone in Hollywood decides to sue?

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Techdirt Mike Masnick

We’ve been covering the mass copyright infringement lawsuits being filed in the US over the past year or so. Most of them aren’t designed with the idea of actually taking anyone to court, but mainly to threaten people into “settling” (i.e., paying up) to avoid the lawsuit. A “concerned citizen” hoping to remain anonymous has taken the time to put together an amazingly detailed spreadsheet cataloging all of these lawsuits. He claims that he will continue to keep it updated. One stunning point from the data? Between January 1, 2010 and now, 99,924 “John Does” have been sued in this manner. If I don’t hurry up and publish this post, I imagine we’ll have already passed 100,000.

While many of the John Doe cases have been dismissed, the spreadsheet shows that 70,914 have not yet been dismissed, so there are plenty to go. When 100,000 people are getting sued anonymously by just a few firms, at what point do the courts and politicians realize that something is broken with the law?

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Techdirt Mike Masnick

Back in November, we wrote about how the lawyers behind US Copyright Group, Dunlap, Grubb & Weaver, were being sued for extortion, conspiracy and fraud. While we doubted the lawsuit would get all that far, it did seem to have a slightly stronger legal basis than similar lawsuits in the past, due mainly to the fact that the producers of Uwe Boll’s Far Cry screwed up with the registration of the copyright, meaning that many of those sued could not be hit with statutory damages — and yet DGW falsely claimed they could. While defenders of these pre-settlement “pay up or we’ll sue” campaigns like to claim that it’s not extortion if the party demanding the cash has a legitimate legal claim, it’s a lot harder to make that case when they don’t really have a legitimate legal claim, but simply say they do. That sounds a lot closer to extortion.

Ars Technica notes that DGW has filed a scathing response (though, oddly, Ars Technica does not provide the actual filing). Apparently, there are two key arguments made by DGW: First, that the guy suing, Dmitriy Shirokov, has no right to sue DGW, because they’re just the lawyers “simply doing their job,” and you can’t sue for that:

“Although an attorney may be accused of defrauding opposing parties, knowingly committing discovery abuses, lying to the court, or purposely and maliciously defaming another individual, if it takes place during the course of litigation, the conduct simply is not actionable,”

That’s quite a claim, in large part because it’s misleading. DGW is playing a little game of misdirection, and assuming everyone else is stupid (a dangerous game for lawyers to play). The main problem is that the actions that DGW is being sued over here are not actually “during the course of litigation.” The complaint is about the “pay up” threat letter, which is not directly a part of the litigation, but an attempt to avert litigation. To claim that demanding cash based on a factually incorrect legal claim is immune from a legal complaint seems like a stretch. If DGW’s legal theories are correct here, it would mean that a lawfirm could resort to outright, blatant extortion, just so long as it somehow connected it to the threat of litigation. That’s a plainly ridiculous outcome that I find hard to believe a court would buy.

Separately, DGW says that no “harm” has come to Shirokov since he hasn’t actually settled. That, again, seems like a questionable tactic. If true, the only way that someone illegally or unfairly threatened could sue is if they first give in to the threat. It seems that just the threat itself, if it truly was made maliciously with false information for the purpose of getting people to pay up, should constitute clear harm in itself.

Of course, not all DGW’s claims seem that crazy. On the question of racketeering and other criminal complaints, DGW points out that individuals can’t bring criminal complaints, only the government can. This point goes in DGW’s favor, and I’m a bit surprised that Shirokov’s lawyers focused on criminal statutes in their complaint. However, the complaint covers plenty of areas that aren’t criminal in nature, and there’s no reason why the case shouldn’t move forward on those issues.

Finally, DGW, in what appears to be becoming standard practice for the firm, is demanding sanctions against Shirokov and his lawyer for filing the lawsuit in the first place. Talk about obnoxious. DGW, in this filing, appear to be claiming both that they can effectively do whatever the hell they want to threaten someone if he doesn’t pay up (so long as they can claim a loose association with ongoing litigation) — and that anyone who then claims that this amounts to a form of fraud or extortion should be punished. In other words, it seems that DGW believes it can act beyond the law in the course of litigation, and anyone who sues them over it should be sanctioned.

Hopefully, a court sets DGW straight on all of that. I’m still not convinced this case will get very far. I’d be surprised if courts, while sympathetic to those charged in such “settle or we sue” lawsuits, went to the other extreme and claimed that the efforts behind them directly broke the law. I’d be thrilled if I’m proven wrong on this, but it just seems unlikely.

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Techdirt Mike Masnick

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mind the RIAA.  As a technology and internet lawyer who makes my living in and out of court trying to protect the intellectual property rights of my clients, I generally support the RIAA’s efforts to keep people from stealing music and infringing the copyrights of others—although the organization can get a bit too overzealous at times.  I’m starting to wonder, however, if perhaps the RIAA’s overzealousness is starting to cross the line into outright delusion, stupidity, or both.  They certainly keep their lawyers busy though.

Now the RIAA is making veiled legal threats against ICANN over the introduction of a “.music” domain name.  The RIAA’s deputy general counsel, Victoria Sheckler, informed ICANN that such a gTLD “will be used to enable wide scale copyright and trademark infringement.”  Actually, “informed” is too nice a word given the rest of her letter: 

We strongly urge you to take these concerns seriously….We prefer a practical a practical solution to these issues, and hope to avoid the need to escalate the issue further.

As you’re probably aware, “escalate” is legalese for “sue your ass.”  But come again?  How does a .music domain name ”enable” infringement?  As I recall, the RIAA has sued an awful lot of people over the years who have downloaded music from sites with .com and numerous other extensions.  So how does a .music gTLD change that in any way? 

If anything, a .music domain name might help consolidate all of the infringers in one place, kind of like a canyon with the snipers located above, and thereby allow the RIAA’s lawyers to pick them off as they see fit.  Of course, outright infringers would likely avoid using such an obvious domain name anyway and stick to the names they’ve been using for—oh, I don’t know—maybe the last decade or so before a .music name was ever contemplated.  (But then again, as an attorney I’ve learned never to underestimate the stupidity or chutzpah of people.)  And of course, the RIAA seems to forget that there are a ton of amateur musicians and bands out there who have no problem with people downloading their music for free and would readily take the opportunity to register a .music domain name.

In terms of potential trademark infringement, I have no doubt that many cybersquatters would try to register the .music names of famous bands and musicians.  But most won’t get very far given the ICANN domain name dispute resolution policy.  Or the even more far-reaching Anti-Cybersquatting Consumer Protection Act.  So the RIAA needs to chill.  What they really seem to be trying to do is to get ICANN to somehow implement copyright protections or to police the .music name for infringers.  But isn’t that the RIAA’s job?  And haven’t they done it well over the years? 

I can’t believe that ICANN would, could, or ever be forced to assume such a massive compliance burden.  This isn’t a situation like Napster where there was a single website facilitating infringement (which had nothing to do with ICANN).  The RIAA is essentially suggesting that ICANN monitor an entire gTLD for the infringing activities of, well, everyone who uses it.  And even if that were possible or within the purview of ICANN’s official responsibilities (which it’s not), what’s to stop the RIAA from then trying to extend ICANN’s efforts into all of the the other gTLDs that exist…or will exist?  Slippery slopes I can deal with, but slippery cliffs are another matter.  In any instance, a lawsuit against ICANN is something that the RIAA may want to think carefully about before pursuing.  Not that they will, mind you.  Their lawyers are kept very busy indeed.

Shakespeare said it first:  “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”  And a domain name by any extension could smell as rotten as any other.  And if people want to use it for illegal purposes, they’ll do it regardless.  As for me, I can’t wait until that proposed ”.xxx” gTLD finally becomes operational.  I just can’t find the porn I’m looking for without it.

A case involving a photographer who posted images of the Haiti earthquake to Twitter service Twitpic only to find others claiming rights to the images opens up IP issues. How far is an image allowed to go once posted? It can be retweeted, but what rights has the copyright owner retained?

Sigh.  Although I’m not surprised–especially given this pernicious and false belief that if it’s on the internet then it must be free–it’s been estimated that 43 sites which engage in digital piracy account for about 21 billion visits per year.  That’s roughly 3 times the current population of the Earth.  As an intellectual property attorney, I always find such statistics sobering given the rampant copyright and trademark infringement which occurs on the internet.  Predictable, but sobering nonetheless.  And no doubt the public hates those lawyers who pursue the infinitesimally small percentage of infringers that they’re able to find and sue, let alone actually stop or collect against.  The battle continues!

When I heard the Author’s Guild claim that Amazon’s new Kindle 2 text-to-speech feature violated an author’s copyright, all I could first think of was . . . good grief.  And being a lawyer with a good stable of Yiddish terms, the phrases “oy vey” and “meshugenah” came to mind also.  This nifty feature allows the Kindle to read the e-book’s text to the user in a computer-generated voice.  But Paul Aiken, the Guild’s Executive Director, stated very matter-of-factly:  “They don’t have the right to read a book out loud.”  

There’s something inherently silly about this statement which makes me want to unequivocally proclaim: “That’s ridiculous!”  After all, when you buy a book, you certainly have a right to read it out loud, whether to yourself, your children, your colleagues, or to the friends in your book club.  This is a “fair use.”  Is it really that different if a machine does it for you—at least in this limited instance?

You probably already know that you don’t have the right under copyright law to publicly perform a literary work.  You can’t, for example, hold a public gathering open to all and begin reading salient portions of a book out loud for all to hear solely for the purpose of disseminating it (and for no other reason).  This would almost certainly constitute infringement.  And you also couldn’t record yourself reading the book out loud to your children or friends and then sell or give away the recording.  That would be infringement also.

Aiken, however, isn’t raising the public performance or the recording issues (at least not directly).  Rather, he’s claiming that the Kindle’s speech feature creates a “derivative work.”  This seems like a bit of a stretch, but not a wholly unreasonable one.  As I’ve said before, intellectual property law is a highly nuanced area of practice, and many courts don’t see eye-to-eye on these issues.  Easy answers are usually elusive, even though common sense may compel a rush to judgment.  Let’s take a look at the issue.  Under the Copyright Act, a derivative work is defined as:

A work based upon one or more preexisting works, such as a translation, musical arrangement, dramatization, fictionalization, motion picture version, sound recording, art reproduction, abridgment, condensation, or any other form in which a work may be recast, transformed, or adapted. A work consisting of editorial revisions, annotations, elaborations, or other modifications which, as a whole, represent an original work of authorship, is a “derivative work”.

17 U.S.C. § 101 (emphasis added).  At first blush, it doesn’t seem to me that a device which reads a book’s text out loud to a person who lawfully possesses the copy would meet the “original work of authorship” test. 

For example, it makes sense why translating a book from one language to another is a derivative work.  It takes a certain degree of deliberate judgment and choice on behalf of those translating a book for a different audience to convey what the author is trying to express.  This would meet the minimum level of creativity needed for originality.  But that’s not the case here with the Kindle.  (For the moment, I’ll sidestep the more difficult question of whether automatic translation software creates a derivative work.  If the Kindle was translating the book AND then reading it aloud, it would present a more complicated issue.)

But the originality question here is a deceptively simple one, and some of the analyses I’ve read so far—in their somewhat understandable quest to show that common sense should dictate that the law respond with a resounding, “NO” in this instance—overlook subtle distinctions which need to be analyzed carefully.

Michael Kwun of the Electronic Frontier Foundation takes the position that there’s no way a derivative work could be created due to the originality requirement.  While he may ultimately be correct in the result, his analysis fails to take into account several factors.  For example, he confidently cites the case of Lewis Galoob Toys, Inc. v. Nintendo of America, Inc., 964 F.2d 965 (9th Cir. 1992), for the proposition that a derivative work “must incorporate a protected work in some concrete or permanent ‘form,’” which he argues that the Kindle’s audio feature fails to do as no recording is ever made. 

While the Galoob court stated this, it also noted that, “[a] derivative work must be fixed to be protected under the act . . . but not to infringe.” (emphasis in original).  Thus, in order for it to be copyrightable, the derivative work has to be fixed, but if it infringes it doesn’t have to be—yet it must be in some “concrete or permanent form.”

If this distinction seems fleeting to you, you’re not alone.  Kwun fails to note that other courts have disagreed with the 9th Circuit’s approach.  For instance, in Lee v. Deck the Walls, Inc., 925 F. Supp. 576 (N.D. Ill. 1996), an Illinois district court expressly rejected this rationale:

Respectfully, the Ninth Circuit’s determination of a dual definition (1) “risks that courts will naively apply this broad definition to find activities infringing that are more properly viewed as altogether beyond the scope of copyright,” . . . and (2) ignores the definition of a “derivative work” found in § 101, in which Congress specifically included an originality requirement.

In affirming the Lee court’s holding, the 7th Circuit (in Lee v. A.R.T. Co., 125 F.3d 580 (7th Cir. 1997)) also found the 9th Circuit’s approach to be lacking: 

If Lee (and the ninth circuit) are right about what counts as a derivative work, then the United States has established through the back door an extraordinarily broad version of authors’ moral rights, under which artists may block any modification of their works of which they disapprove.

Moreover, the 9th Circuit seems to have significantly loosened the originality requirement for derivative works in Mirage Editions, Inc. v. Albuquerque A.R.T. Co., 856 F.2d 1341 (9th Cir. 1988).  There the court found that a company which purchased legitimate copies of the plaintiff’s artwork and glued them onto ceramic tiles, which it then resold, was creating illegal derivative works.  This case has also been met with significant criticism by courts and commentators due to the lack of creativity and originality that such activities by the defendant actually entailed.

Other courts have also declined to follow the 9th Circuit’s approach.  In Precious Moments, Inc. v. La Infantil, Inc., 971 F. Supp. 66 (D.P.R. 1997), the district court noted:

Reading Galoob in conjunction with Mirage, however, it appears that the Ninth Circuit also relaxes the originality requirement when considering whether a work is a derivative work for purposes of infringement. Even if Galoob was correct with regard to fixation, Mirage reads the originality requirement out of the definition of “derivative work.”

Thus, while Kwun may have ultimately arrived at the correct result, 9th Circuit precedent doesn’t firmly support his position. 

Indeed, if the Precious Moments court is correct, originality isn’t even a requirement when creating a derivative work and  “open[s] the door for the most trivial of modifications to generate an infringing derivative work.”  Consequently, notwithstanding Kwun’s belief that the 9th Circuit’s standard immunizes Amazon from liability, the Kindle 2′s text-to-speech feature could potentially be “trivial” enough to be deemed an infringing derivative work under another formulation of the 9th Circuit’s approach.  As discussed below, the 2nd Circuit (where suit would most likely be brought) appears to have expressly rejected this rationale.

Moreover, there are also some practical considerations that Kwun fails to take into account.  As noted above, standards of originality vary from circuit to circuit, and Kwun makes the implicit and unsubstantiated assumption that if the Guild were to sue Amazon, it would sue in Washington state, where the 9th Circuit’s test would be applied.  This is unlikely.  As a litigator, I often wrestle with forum and venue issues and their importance shouldn’t be underestimated—it can make all the difference in the world.

While Amazon is located in Seattle, the Author’s Guild is located in New York, which is the 2nd Circuit’s jurisdiction.  The 2nd Circuit would apply its own test and isn’t bound by anything that the 9th Circuit does.  (And even though the 9th Circuit handles many intellectual property cases due to Silicon Valley and Hollywood, it’s still the most reversed circuit by the Supreme Court—about 86% in 2007—and its rationale would likely be met with considerable skepticism in New York.)  So if the Guild were to sue, it would almost certainly bring suit in a jurisidiction favorable to itself, and that’s not the 9th Circuit.

In fact, in Durham Indus., Inc. v. Tomy Corp., 630 F.2d 905 (2d Cir. 1980), the 2nd Circuit appears to have rejected the 9th Circuit’s questionable dual approach to derivative works:

First, to support a copyright the original aspects of a derivative work must be more than trivial. Second, the scope of protection afforded a derivative work must reflect the degree to which it relies on preexisting material and must not in any way affect the scope of any copyright protection in that preexisting material.

Thus—assuming that the court doesn’t distinguish between copyrightability and infringement (and the Lee court cites to the 2nd Circuit in this regard)—in order for the Kindle’s speech feature to be deemed non-infringing under the 2nd Circuit’s test, Amazon would have to show that: (1) the speech feature is “trivial,” even if it constitutes original expression; or (2) there is no “scope of protection” for the text-to-speech feature because even though it relies upon the author’s preexisting expression in order to generate its audio, no recording is ever made (as discussed shortly) and it therefore doesn’t affect any exclusive rights in the preexisting material.  (As the test is conjunctive, Amazon only has to show that it fails to meet one of the elements to succeed in its defense.)

It is this last point upon which the Guild appears to be focusing.  It seems concerned that this feature could somehow impact audio book sales and therefore affect an author’s ability to commercially exploit the audio aspects of the work.  Several commentators, however, have correctly noted that it’s unlikely an unfeeling, monotone computer-generated voice could ever replace an audiobook read by a live person.  I’ll take a book read by James Earl Jones any day over one read by the HAL 9000.

Another commentator, Nilay Patel, states that what the Guild is essentially arguing in a roundabout way is that while Amazon has the right to sell you the electronic version of the book, it can’t sell you a recording of the book, which the speech feature emulates.  He notes that the claim isn’t as “ridiculous as it seems.”

While Patel states that the Kindle’s “text-to-speech feature blurs the line between books and recordings,” sound recordings under the Copyright Act are defined as  “works that result from the fixation of a series of musical, spoken, or other sounds . . . .”  17 U.S.C. § 101 (emphasis added).  Fixation is absent here.  As Kwun correctly notes, the Kindle 2′s sounds are not fixed but “immediately trail away into the ether.”  So under the statute, it’s not technically a sound recording.  But that doesn’t make it a “ridiculous” claim either.

Finally, as mentioned earlier,  “fair use” would be a major—and likely successful—defense if the Guild ever sued Amazon.  Amazon would almost certainly cite the ubiquitous “substantial non-infringing use” rule from Sony Corp. of Am. v. Universal City Studios, Inc., 464 U.S. 417 (1984).  It’s practically a staple defense in every technology lawyer’s arsenal these days.  And it may prove to be a persuasive one.  

Surely the legion of customers who may want to listen to a computer-generated voice in the privacy of their own homes should be allowed to do so, shouldn’t they?  The technology does appear to have substantial non-infringing uses along the same lines as video recorders and “time-shifting” of programs did in the Sony case.  Instead of reading to themselves, consumers are simply “voice-shifting,” i.e., letting the Kindle read to them. 

Ultimately, the Guild’s position seems like a weak claim, but not one devoid of merit.  It could have some teeth if presented in the proper context, but the Guild would have an uphill battle.  As a litigator, I enjoy a good lawsuit (yes, there are such things!) when there are interesting and significant issues at stake. 

Alas, however, Amazon doesn’t seem to think so.  At least not at the moment.  The company announced that while it was convinced the audio feature was legal and didn’t violate copyright law, it would give authors and publishers the right to determine, on a book-by-book basis, whether the audio feature would be enabled.  According to one report, Amazon may have retreated from its position due to the contracts that publishers (particularly large publishers) had with their authors over e-book rights.

Sigh.  It would have been an interesting and possibly ground-breaking case in copyright law.  And a good fight besides.  But I’m sure that the next one is right around the corner.  Hey, a lawyer can dream, can’t he? 

What a shock.  Lobbyists always get all of the best legislation through.  A House committee passed proposed legislation last week, the “Pro IP Act,” which would increase the penalties for illegally copying and distributing  movies and music.  The bill would also create a White House-level position termed an “Intellectual Property Czar.”  And therein lies one of the bills more serious stumbling blocks.

The bill heads to the House floor for a full vote this summer.  The Senate version of the bill is currently in committee.  Even if it passes Congress, there’s no guarantee that the President will sign it into law.  The White House reportedly has “very serious concerns with the legislation.”  So a veto is still possible.

Not surprisingly, the bill is championed by the music and movie business, as well as by other industries that have a great deal invested in their intellectual property (“IP”).  However, the Department of Justice has serious misgivings about the bill, particularly when it comes to a White House official who could interfere with the DOJ’s independence in matters involving criminal enforcement of IP laws. 

 The DOJ is rightly concerned that such a position could become “easily politicized.”  But what can’t in Washington anymore?  The DOJ certainly isn’t immune either.  Remember the Alberto Gonzalez scandal last year regarding the politically-motivated firings of federal prosecutors who were not perceived as being loyal enough to the Republican party and the current administration?  So politics is inescapable.  It’s only a matter of degree.

But the DOJ has a point and common sense will hopefully prevail.  While the DOJ is obviously not immune from political pressure either, it’s certainly more immune than a White House official is—at least in theory.  And installing an official beholden to the concerns of certain industries only sends yet another message to empower special interest groups with large checkbooks.  At a time when election-year politicians, watchdog groups, and voters alike are decrying the massive influence of lobbyists, installation of an “IP Czar” will only serve to escalate the rhetoric.   

Second, as a general matter, never trust the title of any position that has the word “czar” in it, even informally.  I regard that as somewhat—oh, what’s the word?— “undemocratic.”  Few will deny that IP theft and infringment threatens the viability of numerous industries.  But creating a special Cabinet-level position is not the answer.

Despite the House’s attempt to “clarify” and limit the czar’s role to “coordinat[ing] anti-piracy efforts across government” and not to “making policy,” what does this really mean from a practical perspective?  Wide scale coordination efforts seem to imply a certain amount of policy-making authority.  And historically, “czars” usually haven’t been subject to too much control.

Besides, why an “IP Czar” anyway?  Why not create an “Outsourcing Czar?”  With some studies estimating that 1 million to 2.5 million American jobs have been lost due to outsourcing, this issue affects far more people across many more industries.  Or how about a “Healthcare Czar?”  That’s an issue which affects everyone.  Oh yes, that’s right.  The common man has no lobbyist.  All we have are legislators.