If Art Can Be Used To Harm Artists, What Are We Fighting For? A Brief Rant

With all the injustices going on in the world (Ferguson, Gaza, Ebola, Boko Haram, Net Neutrality, the Emmy's being held on a Monday night, etc.) it's hard to gin up outrage over anything else... but my parents didn't raise me to be a quitter.

Today's outrage comes courtesy of Ultra Records. Last month, Michelle Phan, a Youtube Makeup Tutorial Star (a profession that certainly did NOT exist ten years ago), was sued by Ultra Records for using the music of some of its artist in her videos; specifically, the music of Kaskade, Late Night Alumni, Deadmau5 and Haley. Ultra claims that Phan used over 50 songs without their permission, an allegation her spokesperson denies.

If the story stopped there, I would be plenty mad. Even if Phan did use the songs without permission, why is it necessary for a corporation to gang up on her and drag her into the legal system? Why are they suing her for $150K for each infringed work, the maximum statutory amount (totaling over $7 million in damages)? In most cases, a simple cease-and-desist would have been enough to resolve the issue. By suing her for that much money, Ultra isn’t even trying to disguise its greenlust. It’s the equivalent of going pheasant hunting with an elephant gun.

What pushes this case into the realm of the absurd is that Kaskade, one of the musicians Phan is accused of infringing, doesn’t support the lawsuit. In a series of tweets, he’s come out in support of Phan, stating that “[c]opyright law is a dinosaur, ill-suited for the landscape of today’s media.”

Maybe he’s right. It's ridiculous that someone like Phan could be held accountable for millions of dollars for infractions that amount to little more than being a music fan. And whether or not a court finds her liable, the mere fact of being dragged through this process can be debilitating for someone like her who is trying to find a modicum of success on her own. What can be changed? How can copyright law better address a world where media is much easier to use and reuse? I don't really have an answer, although I suspect that disincentivizing lawsuits and shortening copyright term limits are ways to get the ball rolling.

Look, I know it’s hard out there for independent record labels. Being in the business of art is difficult enough in the best of times, and we are not in the best of times. When you factor in illegal torrenting, uncountable revenue streams, and strong-arm tactics by larger companies, you don’t always think straight. And the result is that labels like Ultra and organizations like the RIAA end up brutalizing the little guy in a show of force that that far exceeds the initial infraction.

That’s why I spend so much time railing against these large corporate copyright holders on this blog. Copyright law was never meant to be used a bludgeon to ground out the petty infringers, although that’s how it’s often used. It was designed to make society better and, while we’re at it, throw a little patronage to creators of valuable intellectual property to show them that their toiling hasn’t gone unnoticed.

I know this doesn’t seem like a big problem in light of everything going on in the world right now, but I think it’s yet another clear indicator that our priorities in this country are far afield: focusing on the privilege of the big over the rights of the small. And if we don’t pay attention to this problem, it’ll just get pulverized by something bigger and louder. In times like these, I like to remind myself of a quote that’s often misattributed to Winston Churchill. And even though he didn’t say it, I think it perfectly sums up the battle before us. When Churchill was asked to cut arts funding in favour of the war effort, he simply replied "then what are we fighting for?"

My Take On The Great Monkey-Selfie Copyright Controversy

Happy Friday friends! No doubt you've all heard about the Monkey-Selfie heard 'round the world and I thought I'd weigh in briefly with my take. In 2011, nature photographer David Slater set up his camera in the Indonesian rain forest to photograph the indigenous fauna. When he turned his back for a moment, a black crested macaque took the camera and started snapping selfies. That photo (possibly the greatest selfie in history) was later placed up on Wikimedia Commons and Slater sued to have it taken down, claiming copyright infringement.

Wikipedia, the company behind Wikimedia Commons refused to remove it, however, because it argues that Slater doesn't own the copyright and thus cannot enforce his claim. According to Wikipedia, the monkey took the photo, and because a monkey cannot own and enforce a copyright, the photo is owned by no one and exists in the public domain. Slater of course disagrees, and has spent thousands fighting this case. He even claims that it's even starting to ruin his business.

The case has sparked an interesting discussion online and I've seen many arguments in favor of Slater (it was his camera equipment, he did all the legwork required to get the photo and pressing the shutter was only the final step in a long series of steps that he, and only he, participated in, etc.) and as many against (ownership of the equipment doesn't impute copyright ownership, Slater didn't press the shutter and that's all that matters, there was a lack of intent and creativity on Slater's part, etc.). There's a rundown at Slate from a bunch of law professors explaining why Slater will lose.

Far be it from me to quarrel with a law professor, but I think Slater will win this fight for one very simple reason: copyright laws in this country prioritize financial reward for creativity above other rights. Chris Sprigman, a law professor at New York University, says in the Slate article that, “copyright’s not there to reward people for their labor—it's to incentivize people to create new books or poems." While I agree with Professor Sprigman that the original intent of including copyright protection in the U.S. Constitution was for the benefit of society as a whole, I don't think the legislative history really supports that argument very well these days... especially as far as corporate copyright holders are concerned. The Mickey Mouse Act extending copyright term limits is a great example of Congress prioritizing economic rights over moral rights.

And boy oh boy, if Slater wins, there's a ton of money to be had in monkey selfies. When you consider the fact that the only party in this case that could be financially harmed would be the monkey (who, for obvious reasons, cannot represent himself or be represented in the case), there's really no downside in granting the copyright to Slater. All the rest is window-dressing that a court can easily rationalize away.

What do you think?

The Supreme Court Kills Aereo Because It Found a Loophole

In the aftermath of Wednesday's 6-3 Supreme Court decision stating that Aereo was in violation of the U.S. Copyright Act, there arose in the tech world an amount of hand-wringing that would make Helen Lovejoy green with envy.

When the decision came down, most media outlets proclaimed the demise of the innovative tech start-up. Others lamented the decision and lashed out at the bipartisan group of justices that wrote for the majority. Still others rushed to argue that no, the decision didn't mean the end of Aereo. A friend of mine, a subscriber to Aereo's service, is in the midst of the traditional five stages of grief. In a single day, he's cycled through denial, anger, depression, and now he's onto the bargaining stage, devising solutions to save the company so convoluted you'd need to divert physicists from the Large Hadron Collider to fully comprehend them.

The dust still hasn't settled and it will be a while before we know if Aereo can survive, but here's what we do know: Aereo used a series of antennaes to pull live broadcast signals out of the air and stream them to its subscribers. It did this without paying licensing fees to the networks who own the shows, unlike other broadcasters. Aereo argued that it was merely an equipment provider and not a broadcaster and therefore didn't need to pay licensing fees (hence why their rates are $8 a month as opposed to Comcast's $99). Six of the SCOTUS justices didn't buy it. Roberts, Ginsberg, Kennedy, Breyer, Kagan, and Sotomayor found that despite the technological back-end that made Aereo so unique, Aereo still functioned largely as a broadcaster of copyrighted material as defined by the 1976 amendment to the Copyright Act. They also said that Aereo was a "public performer" of the copyrighted materials. Taken together, these issues meant that Aereo has been violating copyright law since its inception two years ago.

Clearly, a lot of people don't agree with the decision, and this TechDirt article explains why. In essence, they claim that the SCOTUS used a "looks like something that infringes test" to get to their desired result. They looked at the surface and, without really understanding how the technology works, decided that it must be a broadcaster. Critics of this approach cite this as another example of the anti-technology, intellectual laziness that's hung over this particular line-up of justices for some time.

The critics are right in one regard: in determining a case, the justices should always try their best to understand how a particular technology works. Simply relying on a "looks like" approach is not the way the highest court in the land should operate.

But I'm not convinced that's what happened here. I've read this decision cover to cover (unlike other SCOTUS decisions which can be punishingly long, this one clocks in at a reasonable 35 pages). I wanted to hate the outcome. But to my eyes the justices did in fact understand Aereo's technology. They simply weren't convinced that the technology stood far enough apart from those of more traditional broadcasters to exempt Aereo from having to comply with the Copyright Act. This decision doesn't read like a "if it looks like a broadcaster then it must be" approach. It seems much more logical and considered than that.

However well considered the intentions though, bad law can still come out of it. Whether the Court intended it or not, the decision effectively gives cable companies and broadcasters - powerhouses that already lord over us - even more authority to run the board however they want. As I write this, Fox is using the three-day old Aereo decision as leverage in its legal battle against Dish Network.

It also raises a question of legitimacy, as do most of the recent decisions from this heavily partisan Court. In the decision, the justices state that the decision is narrowly tailored towards rectifying Aereo's specific actions rather than attacking technological advances by other start-ups in general. In other words, it looks like the Court is singling out Aereo for punishment, rather than deciding the law. And it does raise the question as to whether this case was really about technology, or whether it was a facade for something more sinister: loopholes (Scalia says as much in his dissent). Aereo thought it found a technological loophole so that it wouldn't have to pay licensing fees to the networks like Comcast, Time Warner, and AT&T have to. Was this a case of revenge? Were the broadcasters expecting the Supreme Court to act as a bludgeon for their interests? If so, that's the bigger concern.

Supreme Court Deathmatch: Aereo vs. The Entire Broadcast Network Industry

For the last six months, a friend of mine has relentlessly tried to get me to ditch my Xfinity hookup and replace it with Aereo, an online TV subscription service. To hear him tell it, it’s the greatest thing ever invented - immediate and live access to broadcast news, sports, and TV shows from the big 10 networks such as NBC, CBS, ABC, FOX, PBS (no cable channels though), all for a measly $8 a month. I think I’ll wait though. I’m happy with my yesteryear technology and I derive a certain amount of comfort from mindlessly flipping through hundreds of channels I’ll never watch. More importantly, Aereo may not even exist in six months. That’s because tomorrow the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in the case of American Broadcasting Companies, Inc. v. Aereo, Inc. And if Aereo loses, according to its own CEO, the company is kaput.

For those who don’t know, Aereo is a startup that takes television broadcasts from networks and retransmits them to you live via the internet. You can also store these broadcasts in a cloud-based DVR, all for the cost of two cups of coffee. As it turns out, even though you’re paying Aereo, Aereo is not paying the networks; it's just ripping these broadcast signals out of the air and streaming them to you. That didn’t make the networks too happy, so they banded together and sued Aereo for copyright infringement.

This isn’t an easy case and I don’t envy the justices the amount of work they'll have to even understand the technology at play (read this article if you want to know how behind-the-times the SCOTUS really is). Ultimately, this case turns on whether Aereo’s retransmission of broadcast television constitutes a “public or private performance” of copyrighted works. Private performance is perfectly legal, like when you buy a DVD and show it in your home. Even if you invite 100 friends over to watch, you’re safe. But let’s say you rent a theater and charge for admission - that would make the performance public, and that becomes copyright infringement.

In this case, the networks argue that Aereo’s actions constitute public performance because:

1. Aereo streams “live TV” to a wide variety of subscribers;
2. Aereo charges fees for its services;
3. Unlike other retransmitters, Aereo doesn’t pay licensing fees to the networks for permission to broadcast their content.

In opposition, Aereo argues that it does not transmit “to the public.” It transmits only to its paying user base. Furthermore, the choice about what gets retransmitted at any given time is made by the subscriber, not Aereo. Some lower courts have already sided with Aereo, but if I’m being totally honest, I empathize with the networks, even though siding with a corporate copyright holder gives me the willies. Creating and broadcasting content is back-breakingly hard and terrifically expensive. Even some of those low-budget reality shows for third-rate cable channels that look like they were shot on iPhones… oftentimes they have budgets in the tens of thousands of dollars per  episode. And there are lots of working-class content creators behind those shows. Remember, most people in the entertainment industry aren’t millionaires; they’re regular people working paycheck to paycheck, relying on a steady stream of work from networks and studios to pay their bills. It’s easy to think of the producers and directors and say “who cares?” But the people who get hurt first and hardest are the below-the-line talent: the grips, boom operators, location managers, scouts, production assistants, etc. What will happen to those jobs if the networks believe that pouring money into original content is no longer a profitable business model? And if you’re one of the networks, do you want to continue operating in an industry where it’s permissible for competitors to poach your signal and rebroadcast your content without owing you a fee for your trouble?

I don't know what's going to happen, but in a corporate-friendly court like this one, I can see the Supreme Court buying an argument that Aereo’s continued existence will irreparably harm the bottom lines of not just the networks, but the big telecoms like Comcast and Time Warner (soon to be a single world-killing behemoth). I don’t want to see Aereo go down because the use of technology to better peoples' lives is an intrinsic part of the American ethos. But I also don’t want to see a wholesale dismantling of the entire entertainment industry (alarmist I know, but still possible).

I’ll update this post with some thoughts after Tuesday’s oral arguments. In the meantime, I’m going to stick with my cable hook up, and I’ll tell my friend to  start budgeting for cable again if Aereo goes down the poop chute.

Protecting The Brand: Katherine Heigl Sues Duane Reade To Protect Her Publicity Rights

Katherine Heigl has never been a lovable celebrity. Throughout her career, she's bad-mouthed her projects and coworkers to such a degree that Hollywood and the public have largely turned on her. Some have even dubbed her "Hollywood's Most Hated Actress." Lately, it appears she's taken a page out of Sheryl Sandberg's playbook and is leaning in to that title; last week she sued NY-based drugstore chain Duane Reade for $6 million after they tweeted a picture of her leaving one of their stores after shopping there. If she wins, she plans to donate that money to charity... her own charity.

To be sure, this lawsuit isn't going to win her any fans. But then it's not really designed to; it's designed to protect her publicity rights. And using that as a guidepost, Ms. Heigl may actually have a point. Here's the tweet in question:

Heigl's complaint alleges violations of the Lanham Act (the law governing trademarks) as well as New York Civil Rights Laws Sections 50 and 51 (which govern privacy). I'm not going to address the trademark issue here because she would have to prove that Duane Reade's use of her picture would likely confuse the public into assuming she was affiliated with Duane Reade. I just don't think the facts are compelling enough to make that claim (the average person will not conflate shopping at a store with endorsement of it). As I see it, this case is more likely to turn on the privacy issue anyhow.

Section 50 of the NY Civil Statutes says that:

A person, firm or corporation that uses for advertising purposes, or for the purposes of trade, the name, portrait or picture of any living person without having first obtained the written consent of such person, or if a minor of his or her parent or guardian, is guilty of a misdemeanor.

That kind of says it all, doesn't it? The image of a person (famous or not) cannot be used in advertising without their consent - which Ms. Heigl obviously did not give. In common law, this would be referred to as "appropriation of likeness" which is considered one of four privacy rights. So does the tweet count as advertising? Based on the nature of the tweet and the wording, I think a convincing argument can be made. After all, why would Duane Reade tweet that picture if there wasn't a business motive behind it? It's not like the picture was taken by an awe-struck fan... the picture was taken by a paparazzo which was then used by a corporation whose message on Twitter and Facebook was clearly that "Ms. Heigl is a patron of our stores."

Even still, this infraction seems relatively harmless... certainly not worthy of $6 million of Heigl's wrath. And it does raise some questions about the nature of publicity rights as used by celebrities. On the one hand, social media has made it difficult for people to know where the line is between advertising and simply pointing out "here's a celebrity!" While I think the tweet counts as advertising, I could be convinced otherwise with some clever lawyering. There are also First Amendment questions at stake - can a corporation never tweet a picture of a famous patron? Is such a tweet automatically advertising by its nature? And would banning those types of tweets violate the right to free speech? On the other hand, celebrities rely on their images to get work, and having that image appropriated for a use they never approved could result in a loss of work or even ruin business relationships (e.g. what if Ms. Heigl just worked out a deal to be a spokesperson for CVS? The tweet of her shopping at a competing drugstore could destroy that deal).

I know, I know. It's hard to care about how Duane Reade's tweet may negatively impact Ms. Heigl. That's the level of damage she's done to her personal brand. And this lawsuit, however justified, doesn't do anything to help her image. For her sake, I hope she realizes that legal protection of a brand is not the same thing as public protection. The former is fine, but if she wants to continue acting, it will be crucial for her to work on the latter.

Here's My Take On the Tarantino v. Gawker Lawsuit Battle

A few people have asked my opinion on the Quentin Tarantino v. Gawker lawsuit and while I've been happy to lament it with friends and family, I hesitated to weigh in here because I wanted some time to get my thoughts in order. The situation, while comical, says something deeply unflattering about both Tarantino and Gawker, and it brings to light a previously unknown area of law that could have an impact that reverberates through the entertainment and media spheres for a long time. That time to think was also necessary to separate the wheat from the chaff - people have largely chosen sides based on knee-jerk reaction, rather than a thoughtful analysis of the facts (if you like Tarantino's films, Gawker is obviously the devil. If you dislike Tarantino's films, then he's a cry baby who may have instigated this whole fight). Now that I've had some time to process the situation, here's my take:

Whoever wins, we all lose.

For those not in the know, Tarantino sent an early draft of his new script, The Hateful Eight, to several actors he was considering for roles in the film. One of those actors (most likely Bruce Dern of Nebraska fame) gave the script to his agent. Somehow, the script leaked out of the agency and wound up on a website where it could be downloaded and shared by anyone. Angered by the leak, Tarantino spoke to Deadline to discuss how he was so pissed at the situation, he shelved the script completely and would make another film instead. A few days later, Gawker printed a story with the headline Here is the Leaked Quentin Tarantino Hateful Eight Script which contained a link to anonfiles, the website that was hosting the leaked script. Tarantino lost his shit and sued Gawker, claiming that it was liable for "contributory copyright infringement." You can find the complaint here, and you can read Gawker's response to the suit here.

Unlike traditional copyright infringement, contributory copyright infringement is a really muddy area of law, with very little case-law and precedent to accurately predict how a court would rule on this issue. Contributory infringement occurs when someone knowingly causes, induces, or materially contributes to copyright infringement. In this case, Gawker didn't host the script on its own servers, so it can't be liable for direct infringement. But because it linked to anonfiles and essentially told its audience, "here's where you can get it," Tarantino argues that it knowingly caused the infringement to be much worse than it otherwise would have been.

So did Gawker infringe Tarantino's script through contribution? That determination will rest on a lot of factors such as: the intent of the article's author and publisher, the likelihood of readers clicking through to the script, and the actual amount of traffic Gawker is responsible for sending to anonfiles. I honestly don't know how this will shake out, but here's what I do know... whichever way a court rules in this case, it sets a dangerous precedent for artists and web masters alike.

If Tarantino loses, it softens the rights of individual artists to protect their work from prying eyes. It allows websites to purposely drive traffic towards wrongfully obtained work without taking any of the blame for making the infringement worse. On the flip side, if Gawker loses, website owners will become responsible for content they don't host. No matter how you cut it, it creates a slippery slope that could negatively impact a lot of people, especially when you consider the fact that Tarantino filed his complaint in a California Federal District Court. Like New York, the California federal courts are extremely influential, and case-law coming out of those courts can set the agenda for the rest of the country.

To make matters worse, neither Tarantino nor Gawker have particularly good arguments. In the past, Tarantino has openly praised the leaking of his scripts, and his bluster is what made this story news to begin with (if he had handled it privately or through his lawyers, the script might never have leaked as quickly and as widely as it did). Gawker argues that because it's a news website, posting the link was newsworthy and thus, its actions are protected by fair use. But would a real news agency like CNN or BBC post the link? I doubt it. I also doubt that posting a link to an infringed script was the kind of thing the writers of our copyright laws envisioned when they came up with fair use.

I pray that the parties settle before getting to trial because this is not the case to determine such a deeply important issue.

When Rowling Met Galbraith: How An English Lawyer Broke The One Unbreakable Rule All Lawyers Must Follow

This past April, a former military police officer named Robert Galbraith released his debut novel, The Cuckoo's Calling to stellar reviews but terrible sales, selling only 1500 copies. As sales floundered, a British lawyer named Chris Gossage confided to his friend Judith Callegari that Galbraith wasn't a real person, but was in fact the pseudonym for J.K. Rowling, the most famous author in the world. Callegari then did what most of us would do when handed such a world-shattering piece of gossip - she blabbed to anyone who would listen, including a reporter. With the cat out of the bag, sales of Cuckoo skyrocketed to #1 on Amazon.

It's not hard to see why Rowling would do this. As wealthy and successful as Harry Potter made her, the pressure to rebel against typecasting must have been overwhelming. Following the release of Deathly Hallows in 2007, she sought to distance herself from the world of magic by writing a novel for an adult audience. The result was The Casual Vacancy, a thriller which sold like gangbusters, but was panned by critics. I imagine she took a great deal of satisfaction knowing that while Cuckoo wasn't popular when everyone thought Galbraith had written it (it's not like she needed the money), it found love from the very people who felt she could never write a book that wasn't aimed at children. She admitted as much on her website, saying that it was nice to be able to publish "without hype or expectation." So while Rowling was displeased with her identity being leaked, she had still proven her point.

Not everything worked out so well for Gossage though, a partner at the firm that represented Rowling. She sued the firm because he breached the inherent confidence present in the attorney-client relationship (which usually applies to the whole firm even if Gossage himself wasn't representing Rowling).  Even worse, he was just slapped with a fine by the Solicitor's Regulation Authority (the organization that oversees attorney ethics in England) for violating a client's trust.

Regardless of which side of the pond you live on, attorney client confidentiality is a pretty big deal. In most cases, by the time a client seeks the aid of a lawyer, a crisis has happened and the client is often in the midst of a deep personal anxiety. Not only are they emotionally fragile, they are dealing with issues that might require the divulging of sensitive information. Anything from sexual abuse, to financial indebtiture, to murder is on the table, and needs to be discussed frankly in an open and safe environment. If the client can't feel comfortable discussing these issues, then the lawyer can't give the best legal counsel he or she has sworn to provide.

That trust is so important that every country with a judicial system has a rule protecting attorney-client confidentiality. In Massachusetts, where I practice, Rule 1.6 of the Rules of Professional Conduct states that:

A lawyer shall not reveal confidential information relating to representation of a client unless the client consents after consultation.

Without the client's express consent, a lawyer can only reveal confidential information in certain limited circumstances:

1. If it would prevent someone from sustaining substantial bodily harm or death,
2. To obtain legal advice about ethics,
3. To defend himself against allegations of legal misconduct, or
4. To comply with another law or court order.

All 50 states have a rule like this. Depending on the severity of the violation, a lawyer can be punished with fines (as Gossage was), disbarment, or even jail time. Most lawyers take client confidentiality very seriously, not just out of fear of punishment by the local examining board, but because it's the right thing to do.

Every American law student knows the tale of Frank Armani and Francis Belge, two American lawyers who represented Robert Garrow, who was accused of murdering Philip Domblewski in 1973 while Domblewski was camping in the Adirondacks with friends. During a consultation with Armani and Belge, Garrow not only admitted to killing Domblewski, he admitted to murdering and raping several other people. Garrow told them where he dumped the bodies, and his story was confirmed when Armani and Belge personally went to those sites to investigate and photograph the remains.

But because Garrow was their client, Armani and Belge couldn't tell the family members of the deceased where the bodies were.  In fact, Armani and Belge kept silent for nearly a year, despite intense public pressure (they finally disclosed what Garrow had told them after Garrow admitted to the murders during trial). Because they had taken an oath to protect their clients' confidences (no matter how reprehensible), Armani and Belge were not able to discuss what Garrow told them without incurring potential legal repercussions.

In the grand scheme of things, the £1000 (about $1600) Gossage was fined amounts to little more than a slap on the wrist. Gossage claims that he himself is a victim of betrayed confidence, believing that Callegari would keep the secret. Regardless of his excuses, Gossage just learned a valuable lesson about talking out of school, especially when the client is as well-known as Rowling. He should count his lucky stars that she's a world-famous billionaire author, and not a psychotic rapist killer like Garrow.

Anyone Who Argues Against Net Neutrality Is A Greedy Scumbag Who Wants To Take Your Money

I've always wanted to write a salacious hit-bait headline like that. Hopefully it worked and you're reading this. So now that I've gotten your attention, here's what I really want to say... anyone who argues against net neutrality is a greedy scumbag who wants to take your money.

This week, the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals struck down the Federal Communication Commission’s (FCC) rule protecting net neutrality. And that’s unfortunate because net neutrality is a wonderful thing. For those who don’t know, net neutrality is the principle that all internet traffic should receive free and equal service, regardless of source or content. For the past decade, this is how the internet has functioned. It didn't matter if you were reading an article on a news website, sharing your vacation pics on Picasa, or streaming Raging Bull on Netflix, you could access any content you wanted and it was all treated the same.

Net neutrality is what allowed Google, Facebook, Netflix, and Amazon to get a foothold in the marketplace and become the juggernauts they are today. Realizing the goldmine to be had by controlling access to the internet, the telecoms started implementing policies to do just that. So in 2010, the FCC passed an Open Internet Order allowing it to regulate internet companies the same way it regulates telecoms and cable companies. The goal was to keep access to the ENTIRE internet equal and open to all.

Why Should You Care?

Unfortunately, Verizon hated this, so it sued the FCC, claiming that its Open Internet Order was an overreach of federal power. The D.C. court agreed. That means it’s now legal for internet providers to:

• Block any website they want for any reason,
• Charge ISPs more money to host streaming content, meaning your Netflix subscription is about to increase by orders of magnitude,
• Cap and throttle internet usage with impunity, charging higher fees for better broadband access.

So if Time Warner wanted, it could now block any website it's not affiliated with. Prefer to get your news from NBC, Fox, or NPR? Too bad. Time Warner owns CNN so that’s the only news outlet you might be able to get. Even if it decides not to block those websites outright, it can charge ISPs higher fees to carry those websites, or throttle the bandwidth given to those websites making them load much slower. HuffingtonPost has a pretty solid rundown about how the internet might look in the absence of net neutrality.

Ultimately, the death of net neutrality will mean that a few giant companies can discriminate against sites and content they don't like and funnel your internet experience in ways they deem appropriate (during oral arguments, Verizon’s attorney admitted they would be pursuing different economic schemes if not for the Open Internet Order). With the internet providers controlling content, fewer and fewer startups will be able to get a foothold in the market, significantly affecting innovation.

Net neutrality opponents have argued that so much traffic comes from "big video sites such as Netflix and YouTube, [that it] clogs up the system and imposes delays on everyone else. These companies should be paying their fair share." Which sounds eminently reasonable until you realize that Verizon made $2.23 billion in the third quarter of 2013 alone, so it's not exactly hurting for cash.

Pro-neutrality advocates have argued that there's plenty of bandwidth to go around and charging extra because of the nature of the content is "naked corporate greed." I agree, and so do Facebook, Google, Yahoo, Amazon, and Netflix, who favor net neutrality and stand to lose a lot of money if the telecoms get their wish.

How This Affects Artists

The loss of net neutrality is bad for everyone, but it’s especially bad for artists because art is frequently visual in nature, and unlike text, visual media requires a lot of bandwidth. If I’m a filmmaker and I put my latest film on YouTube, how likely are you to watch if it takes 10 minutes to load because you’re on a lower-tiered broadband plan which doesn’t include video streaming? If I write a song that contains explicit sexual content, how will I get anyone to listen if Comcast starts arbitrarily banning content it deems to be pornographic in nature?

The end of net neutrality becomes another way for large corporations to trample the rights of individual artists, something I’ve railed about on this site for a while now. Limiting the artist’s ability to display and promote his or her work not only affects the individual’s ability to make a living, but it affects society at large because it stifles creativity and limits innovation.

Why There’s Still Hope

The Atlantic's Kevin Werbach offers some credible arguments that, despite the ruling, there’s some hope for the future. First, even though the D.C. court’s ruling now eliminate the only rule preserving net neutrality, no rules even existed before 2010. And it’s not like we were plunged into an internet-restricted hellscape during that time. In fact, immediately following the court’s ruling, Verizon announced that there would be no changes to its services for customers.

Second, the court made it’s decision on a fairly limited technicality and gave the FCC a roadmap for fixing this whole mess. In a nutshell, if the FCC placed internet services into the same category as it did the telecom giants, it would be able to reinstate the Open Internet Order in some form. The fact that internet providers are not classified as "common carriers" like the telecoms is the main reason the rule was invalidated by the court. And throughout the opinion, the court repeatedly references the FCC’s “choice” or “decision” to classify internet providers differently than telecoms.

Given the Commission’s still-binding decision to classify broadband providers not as providers of “telecommunications services” but instead as providers of “information services,” see supra at 9–10, such treatment would run afoul of section 153(51): “A telecommunications carrier shall be treated as a common carrier under this [Act] only to the extent that it is engaged in providing telecommunications services.”

Granted, reclassifying broadband providers as common carriers would require some legal jiu-jitsu by the FCC, and it’s unclear to me that the law would easily permit FCC Chairman Tom Wheeler to make that choice. Even if he could, he might not want to since it would probably result in a  political battle with congressional Republicans, who, it should be noted, absolutely hate net neutrality. Right now, the FCC is more likely to appeal the court’s ruling than reclassify. But reading the decision it became clear to me that the court was telling the FCC how to regain the upper hand. The decision repeatedly slaps down Verizon's claims and states explicitly that it “think[s] it quite reasonable to believe that Congress contemplated that the Commission would regulate [broadband internet service providers].”

Probably the best way to resolve the matter is to get Congress to pass pro-net neutrality legislation, which is obviously easier said than done. Luckily, there’s a lot of money in this fight and for once, it’s not a case of the big guys (i.e. big corporations) lobbying against the little guys (i.e. you). Sure, Verizon, Comcast, and Time Warner have a lot of money to lobby Congress. But you know who else has a lot of money to lobby Congress? Facebook. Google. Amazon. Yahoo. And they fucking love net neutrality.

On Being Nice

Last week, I wrote this article about ways to fight back against infringers that didn't require commencing a lawsuit. It was well-received and widely read. In that article, I threw in a blurb describing why you should be nice to your adversaries and how doing so could lead to a better legal outcome for you. To my surprise, I got a lot of pushback on that. Several readers found the advice to be downright controversial. Their general view was "I'm the victim, so why do I owe it to someone who stole from me to be nice?"

It's a legitimate point and hard to argue against. But I'll try anyway.

From my seat, being nice makes practical sense. Judges and juries are people too, and like us mere mortals, they're susceptible to all sorts of biases. And since these are the people who will determine your legal fate, you want them to LIKE YOU. Making an effort to show magnanimity in light of your victimization can do just that. It's really that simple. "But Greg, it shouldn't matter if I'm likable. The judge and jury have a civic duty to do justice even if the victim is a jerk." Yes, absolutely right. Except the law is never as one-sided as it appears from your side. While you may feel victimized, it may in reality be a gray area. Most cases fall closer to the middle than any one side, which is why your appearance, your attitude, and your facial expressions may be enough to sway a jury your way (or not).

I'm not saying you have to be friendly to your adversary. I'm not saying you need to walk over to him in front of the jury, shake his hand, and call him your mate. But neither should you rail against him, call him names, and undermine him. Let your arguments stand on their own without interference from your emotions. You can - and always should - be direct in your dealings when it comes to legal matters, but that doesn't preclude being nice either. In a legal setting you will be adversaries, but that doesn't mean you need to be enemies as well.

Here's another reason. We have a real kindness deficit in this country. American culture is adversarial by design (our government and judicial systems were built on principles of adversity, as juxtaposed with the British system, which is inquisitorial) and when it goes unchecked, it can make us meaner, less trusting, and more litigious. It can lead to situations like one I experienced today. A young Hispanic man approached me while I waited for my train at Back Bay Station in Boston. He smiled and introduced himself in broken English. He showed me his cell phone and told me it wasn't working, and he began to ask if he could make a call on my phone. Before he finished his statement, I pointedly told him "No!" It took him a few moments to register my denial and he sputtered out a few more words before looking dejected and shuffling off to ask someone else for help. Before he left, he meekly thanked me for my time.

I was immediately crushed by how casually cruel I had been. I shut him down before he could even ask for help... how easy it was for me to be so dismissive and disrespectful to someone I didn't know. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that none of my rationalizations withstood any kind of scrutiny. Yes, I didn't know him. Yes, I didn't trust him. Yes, he might have stolen my phone. But so what? I can afford a new one. I can easily wipe the memory of the old one from my computer so sensitive data couldn't be accessed. Assuming I was right to distrust him, what was I was protecting anyway? I was so disrespectful to someone I had just met, imagine how effortless it would have been if I had actual animosity towards him.

Being nice takes work, it takes effort. It's especially hard when you think someone has wronged you and your instinct is to treat them like the worst rat bastard that ever lived. I ask you to take the higher road; don't act like I did today. Be the better person and treat your adversary with respect. That's how you win allies in and out of court. BE NICE. Because even if you lose your case, you can at least walk out of that courtroom with your head held high.

Ellen Page And The Strange Case Of The Misappropriated Likeness

It’s been a weird couple of months for Ellen Page, the elfin actress behind Juno. A few months ago, her likeness was stolen for the hit video game The Last of Us. Now, a video game that she actually participated in and lent her likeness to, Beyond: Two Souls, has featured her in a digital nude shower scene, pictures of which leaked without her consent, and which show the whole shebang.

Let's talk about The Last of Us first. Back in June, the video game made a splash, and not just because it was a critical hit. One of the game's main characters, Ellie, looked suspiciously like Page, so much so that people were asking Page if she acted in the game (she didn't). In fact, early concept art of Ellie art didn't just resemble Page, it was clearly her face.  Behold!

The one on the left is the concept art of Ellie and the middle is the version of Ellie that appears in the game, altered to look less like Page. If you're not convinced by these side-by-sides, just google "last of us ellen page" and you'll see comparison after comparison. What's striking is how even after the developer, Naughty Dog, changed Ellie's appearance, she pretty much still looks just like Page.

Anyway, Page caught wind of this and instead of suing the pants off Naughty Dog, she said this:

I guess I should be flattered that they ripped off my likeness, but I am actually acting in a video game called Beyond: Two Souls, so it was not appreciated.

Naughty Dog is pretty lucky Page isn't lawsuit-happy because she has a solid case for Appropriation of Likeness, a tort that prohibits the use of someone's name or likeness for commercial purposes without their consent (in California, name and likeness are actually protected by statute - California Civil Code Section 3344(a)). If she decided to sue, she could put Naughty Dog out of business.

So now we arrive at Beyond: Two Souls, the game that Page actually participated in by doing the voice and motion capture (see pic above) for her character. At one point, the game features a scene with digital version of Page's character taking a shower, all of her lady parts tastefully obscured. Unfortunately,  pictures from a developers-only version of the game leaked out, showing those lady parts in their entirety (Page, of course, did not pose nude for this scene. She filmed her role wearing a mo-cap suit - a leotard fitted with digital nodes that capture her movement).

Who's to blame? The game's developer, Quantic Dream, seems like the obvious target since it made the nude model to begin with; without the model, this controversy would never have arisen (in the law, we call this "direct causation"). But Quantic Dream claims that it made it impossible to view the model's lady parts within the course of normal gameplay. Their story is that an unauthorized developer took the model and filled in the blanks, as it were. So is Quantic Dream off the hook because someone found a way to view that model in an unintended way? And even if Quantic Dream was the right party, could Page sue the company for Appropriation of Likeness? She did permit the use of her face, after all, but does her "likeness" extend to her other features? Consider also that since Page didn't actually pose nude, all the "blanks" that were filled in by the unauthorized developer were done from imagination - does that alter the analysis? At this stage, it's unknown whether Page had an anti-nudity clause in her contract, and whether a 3D rendering of her body would qualify for the purposes of an Appropriation claim (there's some case law indicating that it might qualify). Basically, there are a lot of unknowns.

Here's what makes the whole thing even more fascinating: Sony, Beyond's distributor, is also the distributor for The Last of Us. This puts them in an awkward situation vis-a-vis their relationship with Page. Twice in one year she's become a victim of a high-profile game they released.  And once the pictures are out in the world, they're out there; there's no getting them back.

It'll be interesting to see if Page decides to pursue the matter legally. In the meantime, I'm sure she's learned her lesson: no more video games with Sony.