Robin Thicke Sues Marvin Gaye's Family To Prevent Being Sued By Marvin Gaye's Family

robin-thicke-pharrell-ti

John F. Kennedy once said that "victory has a thousand fathers, but defeat is an orphan."  This is never more true than in the entertainment world, which is why Robin Thicke, Pharrell Williams, and T.I. (aka Clifford Harris Jr.) have decided to sue Marvin Gaye's family and Bridgeport Music in order to deny their parental rights to Blurred Lines.

The Gaye family claims that Blurred Lines ripped off Marvin Gaye's Got To Give It Up, and they're demanding a substantial monetary payout.  If they don't get it, they'll sue for copyright infringement.  In response to the threat of legal action, Thicke preemptively sued them and is seeking a declaration from the court that Blurred Lines doesn't infringe Got To Give It Up.

Before we go any further, listen to both songs and compare for yourself.

Here's the SFW version of Blurred Lines:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU&w=560&h=315]

And here's Got To Give It Up:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fp7Q1OAzITM&w=420&h=315]

The lawsuit also contains allegations by Bridgeport Music that Blurred Lines plagiarized Funkadelic's Sexy Ways:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxKOQ3SfGhg&w=560&h=315]

Now I consider myself something of a musical ignoramus, but even I can tell when one thing sounds like another thing.  While there are some similarities between the songs, primarily because of the up-tempo beat, I think it's pretty clear that Blurred Lines is a wholly separate entity.  Which means no infringement took place because copyright law doesn't protect individual elements of a work when those elements are commonly used in an industry or genre (known in the legal biz as "scènes à faire").   So in the hip-hop/R&B world, where uptempo bass-heavy beats are the norm, that similarity by itself would not be enough to constitute copyright infringement.  There would have to be greater similarities between the songs in the lyrics and melody for a court to find some form of plagiarism.

So, if Thicke isn't in danger of losing an infringement case, then why did he sue the Gaye family in such an aggressive fashion, especially after stating in his complaint that he has the "utmost respect for and admiration of Marvin Gaye, Funkadelic and their musical legacies"?  Certainly Thicke and his partners aren't content to share the glory with 997 other fathers.  Blurred Lines is THE most talked about song of the summer.  It's a legitimate phenomenon.  Why should they share the substantial revenues they'll accrue with another artist?  Even if that artist inspired them to begin with?

But I actually think this lawsuit is less about money than about sending a message.  See, Blurred Lines is a real winner, and if Thicke can be bullied into settling out of court for several hundred thousand dollars in order to avoid a long and costly trial... well that's a pretty easy way to make a few bucks.  Sadly, this type of thing isn't uncommon in the entertainment world.  In fact, it's downright mundane.

"Your hit song/TV show/movie has something vaguely in common with my lesser known song/TV show/movie and if you don't pay me, I'll tie you up in litigation for years."

It's a very common tale.  My guess is that Thicke decided to take the fight to the Gaye family to show that he can't be bullied.  Will this type of preemptive lawsuit work or will a judge dismiss it and basically tell Thicke to wait until he gets sued?  I have no reason to believe it won't have the desired effect.  If it does, I think you'll see a lot more of these preemptive lawsuits.  If it doesn't, the moral of the story will remain the same: you can't be a hit without people bleeding you for everything you're worth.

Licensing Getty: A Cautionary Tale For Artists Using Stock Photos In Their Portfolios

Screen Shot 2013-07-22 at 6.53.20 PM[Yesterday I got an email from a reader telling me a pretty scary story.  She's permitted me to share it, but for the sake of confidentiality I'll change her name to "Jean".]  

Five years ago, Jean was hired to design an ad for a local business.  As part of the design process, she incorporated a stock photo from Getty Images, an online stock photo library.  Jean's client liked the work and paid Getty a licensing fee to use that photo in the ad.  The terms of the licensing agreement stated that the image could be used in print ads only.  Jean put the ad on her personal portfolio website.

Last July, Getty's netbots discovered the ad w/image on Jean's website.  Because the terms of the licensing did not include website use, Getty sent her a letter accusing her of breaching the license agreement and demanding $8,000 in usage fees.  The netbots also found two images that she had used in mock-ups for other clients, but those mock-ups were never approved by the clients and the images never licensed.

Faced with a pretty scary situation, Jean did what a lot of people would do: she took down the images.  This seems to have placated Getty because no more demand letters were sent.  But did she really have to take them down?

Well, there are two issues determining whether Jean should fear Getty's wrath.  1) Did Jean's use of the image constitute copyright infringement?  2) Did Jean's use of the image constitute a breach of contract?

Regarding Copyright Infringement

Most IP lawyers agree that displaying your work in a portfolio, even when the copyright is owned by someone else, is permitted under fair use.  That's because portfolios are non-commercial in nature, and don't generally compete with the copyright owner's financial interest.  Jean's case is slightly different because the artist and the client aren't the only parties involved.  There's a third-party copyright owner (Getty) who is laying claim to the image.

But even with that wrinkle, Jean is okay leaving the ad featuring the licensed image on her site.  It doesn't conflict with Getty's market and she's not profiting from its display.  She's using it as an example of her prior design work.  No copyright infringement here.

Regarding the unlicensed images, I think removing them was the right decision.  On the face of it, fair use applies to these images just as they would to the licensed image.  But fair use is a squishy doctrine and in the absence of a license agreement, a judge could look at Jean's website and reasonably believe that she's not an innocent infringer (using images without permission from a website whose sole business is to license those images could indicate intent to pirate).

Regarding Breach of Contract

According to Jean, Getty placed very specific conditions on the use of the licensed image - print ads only, no web.  Any violation of those terms constitutes a breach of contract, which is why Getty sent her an $8,000 bill.

Getty is fiercely protective of its copyrights.  Their licensing agreements regulate every possible use of their images: the size of the image, number of times the image can be used, what mediums the image can be used in, and even placement of the image in the final artwork.  When I was a producer, I would license stock photos from Getty all the time and they negotiate like Iranian hardliners.  One time, I was trying to get their permission to use a single stock photo for a fifteen-year term in a documentary.  No matter how hard I pleaded, I couldn't get them to budge from a ten-year commitment.

That said, standard agreements like these don't usually make third-parties liable for breaches of contract.  Meaning that since the agreement was between Getty and the client, the terms of the contract likely didn't apply to Jean.  Therefore, Jean is not liable for breach of contract.

So What Can Jean (And You) Do?

Realistically, Jean had no legal liability for displaying her work on her website.  But to prove this, sadly, Jean would have to risk being sued by Getty.  And as I've discussed before, going to court and winning, especially on a fair use case, is still a loss because of the time, money, and effort she would have to invest in defending herself.  So the trick is to minimize liability before Getty can even send you a letter.

So, for all you designers who use stock photos in your work to stay (legally) safe, here are a few things you should always do:

  1. All photos should be properly licensed by you or your client
  2. Web use and/or portfolio use should be explicitly permitted in the license agreement
  3. Even if the licensing is done by the client, read and understand the terms of the licensing agreement to understand your liability to the other parties (i.e. if the client pays the license fee, are you as the artist liable to Getty as well for a breach of the contract?)

Remember, as an artist, your portfolio is the face of your business.  The less work you can show, the less successful your business is.  But because Getty's first instinct is to throw lawyers at you, each of you has to determine for yourself whether fighting back is a viable option.  Following these three tips will help minimize that possibility.

[Author's Note: I'd be interested to hear from other lawyers out there if you've had different experiences working with Getty.  Ditto for artists.  Hit me back in the comments section below.]

Sony Wins "Midnight in Paris" Lawsuit, Inadvertently Proves My Case About Copyright Duration

Midnight-in-Paris"The court has viewed Woody Allen’s movie, 'Midnight in Paris,' read the book, 'Requiem for a Nun,' and is thankful that the parties did not ask the court to compare 'The Sound and The Fury' with 'Sharknado.'" - District Court Judge Michael P. Mills

*****

Last October, William Faulkner's estate sued Sony Pictures Classics, the distributor of the hit Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris, claiming that a line used by Owen Wilson's character in the film was pulled straight from Faulkner's 1950 novel Requiem for a Nun without permission from the estate.  Such a use, the estate argued, constituted both copyright and trademark infringement.

Just for comparison's sake, here's the line from the book: "The past is never dead. It's not even past."

And here's the line from the film, said by Owen Wilson's character Gil Pender: "The past is not dead! Actually, it's not even past.  You know who said that? Faulkner. And he was right. And I met him, too. I ran into him at a dinner party."

When I heard about the lawsuit, I rolled my eyes.  "This is exactly the kind of frivolous lawsuit that makes people hate lawyers," I groused to my wife.  The line was so minimal and seemed like a clear-cut case of fair use.  The suit didn't seem like a credible attempt to protect Faulkner's legacy; it looked like a cynical ploy designed to cash in on a box-office hit.  Judge Mills, as evidenced by the above quote, agreed.  In an opinion issued yesterday, he dismissed the Faulkner case against Sony, finding that film's use of the Faulkner quote fell within the fair use exception to copyright infringement.

But the content of the opinion interests me less than what this case means to copyright policy.  Because whether Judge Mills intended it or not, the dismissal speaks volumes about a problem with the way this country shields copyright holders from piracy.  Namely, that copyrights are allowed to live for too long and that results in too many lawsuits.

Back in April, I wrote this Sherlock Holmes piece discussing why the current scheme of copyright duration should be changed to better serve the current copyright landscape. Right now, any work of art fixed in a tangible medium is protected by U.S. Copyright Law for the life of the author plus 70 years.  I argued that allowing copyrights to last for so long actually stifles creativity and innovation in the following ways:

  1. Artists are less incentivized to create new works because of the looming spectre of legal action
  2. Owners of profitable copyrights like Sherlock are less incentivized to create new works of art as long as they can continue to profit from those copyrights
  3. Copyright owners like the Faulkner estate are incentivized to pursue legal action against even the most minimal use of their copyright because the length of the copyright's life acts as a mandate to keep the work protected at all costs

And that's exactly what happened here.  Under our current copyright law, Requiem for a Nun is still protected 62 years after publishing and 50 years after the death of the novel's author.  It will continue to be protected until 2032.  This permits the descendants of the author to pursue all uses of that work anytime they see green and to concoct unreasonable arguments in defense of that green (the Faulkner estate, as part of its now dismissed trademark claim, argued that the use of William Faulkner's name in the film is likely to deceive the audience into believing that an affiliation exists between Faulkner and Sony).  And while the verdict in this case was proper, it won't be the last time this happens.

A shorter copyright duration is better because it allows the author and his immediate family to profit from his creation, but it also devalues the property after the author's death by coming into the public domain sooner.  And that's a good thing.  If Faulkner is no longer profitable, then that frees up people to use his characters in new and interesting ways, while also incentivizing the estate to create something new.  Someone argued with me once, claiming that letting the work into the public domain would open it to bastardization, copying, and retread.   But I fail to see how that's a bad thing.  If a filmmaker wants to stage a remake of Sherlock Holmes starring Justin Bieber as Sherlock and Chester Cheetah as Watson, well sure that will probably suck big time, but that doesn't diminish Conan Doyle's original writings.  Those remain untouched and intact.  And anyway, the integrity and profitability of a work are not often related.  If they were, the Broccolis would never have greenlit a James Bond movie where Denise Richards played a nuclear scientist.

The purpose of copyright protection isn't to provide a golden parachute for the author and his beneficiaries until the end of time.  It's mean to foster originality and ingenuity for the betterment of society.  Hell, even the head of the Copyright Office, Maria Pallante, suggests shortening the duration of copyright to life of the author plus 50 years.

The point is, until we revamp our copyright law to stop favoring the corporate copyright holders, we're going to continue seeing lawsuits like Faulkner v. Sony any time a large copyright owner sees a potential conflict with its interest.  When I look at Judge Mills' decision, I don't see a single judge smacking a plaintiff for filing a frivolous lawsuit.  I see an indictment of a system that allows the suit to be brought in the first place.

Fairly Useful, Part Deux: Why It's Always Better To Ask Permission Than Beg Forgiveness

fair-use-reminder[It's the summer!  Which means all the movies in theaters are sequels, so why should this blog be any different?  Last week I wrote a follow-up to my Death of the Unpaid Internship article and it was a colossal hit.  Can lightning strike twice?  I shall endeavor to find out.]

Several months ago I wrote a post called Fairly Useful: Why Fair Use Is A Simple, But Dangerous Legal Doctrine.  The purpose of that post was to provide a bird's eye view of Fair Use, a concept that many artists know about but don't generally understand.  In that article, I said that Fair Use is "extraordinarily dangerous" when misunderstood and that if you're going to use someone else's copyrighted work, you're better off asking for permission.  Whereas that article was all about discussing the elements that make up a fair use claim, this article will elaborate on why asking permission is better than begging forgiveness.  And, as I often do, I will illustrate why with a story from my early producing career.

*****

I was on the second week of a location shoot somewhere near Bowdoin, Maine and I was looking for an eye-catching outdoor backdrop in front of which to film a conversation between our on-air personalities.  We drove around for what felt like hours looking for a suitable location and discovered that if there's anything  Maine lacks in multitudes, it's eye-popping outdoor backdrops.  Fortunately, we found our way to a quasi-civilized area and parked in front of a deli with a colorful and swirly logo.  Since we weren't going to film inside the deli, I decided not to ask for permission to film the logo.  Here's why:

  1. We weren't bothering the deli owner or his customers.
  2. We weren't on the deli owner's property.
  3. The logo, while conspicuous, was in the background.
  4. We would be there for a total of five minutes and the scene, when edited, would last ten seconds.
  5. The show's format required a lot of driving, which meant that much of the filming took place inside a car... I was desperate to break up that monotony.

These were all bad reasons.  It didn't matter that we weren't in anyone's way, that we weren't on private property, or even that we'd be gone before the traffic light changed from yellow to red.  On the off-chance the owner saw his logo on TV, we would be, in the words of our in-house counsel, "royally buttf***ed."  He could sue us for copyright infringement, and while the issue was in dispute, we wouldn't be able to use the scene.  Either the show would be pulled from all future time slots - causing a significant problem for the network since ads are sold weeks and months in advance - or we would have to reshoot the scene and cut it into the show, which is the kind of expense that can only be made after firing an unwitting associate producer and using his salary to cover the cost of the reshoot.

Which isn't to say we would lose a lawsuit if the owner decided to sue.  This was a straightforward a case of fair use because it met all the requirements under the law.

  1. The use was transformative because it didn't comment on the logo or the deli.  It was simply a tacit acknowledgment that the deli existed.
  2. The use was non-commercial (even though the show was made for commercial reasons, that profit didn't arise due to use of the logo).
  3. The use was minimal since it was in the background of a scene lasting no more than ten seconds.
  4. The use did not negatively affect the market for the deli - if anything, I figured it was a bit of free advertising.

But that didn't matter.  As our lawyer explained to me when I returned from the shoot, getting sued and then winning (by successfully defending on a fair use defense) was still a loss because the amount of time and money required to defend ourselves would never be recouped.  If I had asked for permission, the best case scenario was that we would be allowed to film the logo.  The worst case scenario: the owner would either charge us a licensing fee, or say no outright and we would have to film somewhere else.  Either way would have been easier and cheaper than plodding through arbitration hearings or waiting to see if a judge would buy our fair use argument.

Lucky for me, history didn't pan out that way.  The owner was alerted to the sight of several video cameras milling around near his property and came to investigate the hubbub.  Even though I was a lowly associate producer, I was the only one in charge at that moment, so I took full responsibility (which mostly looked like groveling and blaming the cameraman).  Ultimately, the owner approved of what we were doing and signed a release for the logo.

*****

For artists, it's tempting to throw the dice and assume that you won't be sued.  Suing for copyright infringement is damn hard, and requires registration with the Copyright Office.  And many of those that threaten to sue are either bluffing or have dramatically underestimated the cost of following that threat all the way through.  But as a lawyer, I can tell you that despite all that stuff being true, taking the risk is still not worth it.  For every empty threat that gets made, I can point you towards a legitimate copyright lawsuit.   And when the time comes for you to actually beg forgiveness, it never works - especially with corporations.

You should always always always ask for permission because even if the copyright owner says no, that loss is nothing compared to what you'll lose if you wind up defending yourself in court.  Because even if you successfully make a fair use argument, it's still a loss.  As an artrepreneur, your money is time - and that should be spent making and selling your work, not defending yourself in federal court.

So the next time you find yourself wanting to use someone else's copyright work in your own art, ask them for permission.  The worst thing they will say is "no."  Compared to a years-long legal battle, that's not such a bad thing.

Death of the Unpaid Internship, Part 2: Black Swan's Revenge

blackswanTwo weeks ago, my wife and I were driving home from an unsuccessful apartment hunting trip.  In an attempt to get my mind off the stress of looking for a new home, she asked me what I thought about the recent ruling in the Black Swan internship case.

For those who don't know: Eric Glatt and Alexander Footman, two interns who worked on Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan sued the film’s distributor Fox Searchlight, claiming that the company’s unpaid internship program violated minimum wage and overtime laws.  They argue that they were wrongly classified as unpaid interns when they should have been paid employees.  Well about three weeks ago Federal Judge William H. Pauley III ruled in favor of Glatt and Footman, stating the two should have been paid for their work, and the failure to pay them was a violation of the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA).  In his opinion, Judge Pauley said that Glatt and Footman

worked as paid employees work, providing an immediate advantage to their employer and performing low-level tasks not requiring specialized training. The benefits they may have received - such as knowledge of how a production or accounting office functions or references for future jobs - are the results of simply having worked as any other employee works, not of internships designed to be uniquely educational to the interns and of little utility to the employer. They received nothing approximating the education they would receive in an academic setting or vocational school. 

Which essentially means that Glatt and Footman did not fall under the federal definition of "intern" and should have been paid as employees as a result.  Judge Pauley went on to say that even though Glatt and Footman knew what they were signing on for, the FLSA

does not allow employees to waive their entitlement to wages.... An employer is not to be allowed to gain a competitive advantage by reason of the fact that his employees are more willing to waive [FLSA claims] than are those of his competitor.

You can read the whole decision here if you like.  It's a pretty big deal and I'd be lying if I said I didn't make a celebratory fist-pump when I read the news.  [For the record, I'm only talking about internships taken by non-students, not educational internships, or volunteerism/ pro bono work]. I've made it known in the past that I'm no fan of the unpaid internship for adults who are no longer in college, which is why my wonderful and patient wife didn't bat an eyelash when, stressed out from looking at a string of ugly apartments, I snapped back, "Any company that refuses to pay employees for their work doesn't deserve to exist!"

That's a pretty militant proclamation and having some distance from the heat of the moment, I've decided that I support the content, even if the delivery and word choice don't properly communicate how I truly feel.  I shudder at the idea of being labeled an anti-corporate socialist (although I'm sure someone will accuse me of it), so allow me to clarify my stance.

  1. Unpaid internships for non-educational purposes are bad for employees because experience cannot pay the rent.
  2. Unpaid internships for non-educational purposes are bad for the market because they force entry-level workers to work for nothing, suppressing wages for everyone up the ladder, and thus reducing taxable and spendable income for workers.
  3. Unpaid internships for non-educational purposes are bad for our culture because they perpetuate the [absolutely wrong] belief that being taken advantage of is somehow the same thing as "paying your dues."

When a company elects not to pay an intern while profiting off his or her work, that tells the world that it's okay to get something for nothing, and that's not how capitalism is supposed to work.  I know first-hand what Glatt and Footman have gone through, taken advantage of and then cut loose.  The last time I wrote about this, a friend asked me if it was okay to accept an unpaid internship in the same industry she had already been working in for several years.  She had just moved to a new city and was concerned that she was an unknown commodity in her new location, despite her years of experience.  To her, the unpaid work would be a good way to break into the industry in that city and build a name.  While I understood her thought process, I strongly disagreed with her and told her to hold out for actual paying work.   To me, her willingness to go without pay signaled something rotten about how exclusionary our industries have become (especially the glamour industries like entertainment, publishing, and fashion), even to people who have experience within those industries.  Here is someone with six years of direct expertise in her field, who has skills that are immediately transferable and applicable, yet she felt that her only recourse was to start over from the bottom, as if she were a 19-year old freshman.

The longer I think about it, the less flexible I become on the matter.  Are there ever good reasons to accept unpaid work?  I'm sure someone will argue that building a reputation at the beginning of a career is a worthwhile excuse.  A few months ago I might have even been convinced.  Obviously every free-thinking adult should consider all the options before committing to a potential income drought and weigh those options based on the facts of each individual situation.  But looking at it from the macro view, I find those arguments unconvincing in the light of Judge Pauley's ruling - I personally believe you're better off finding a mentor and/or developing your own projects... you're going to be unpaid anyway, might as well develop some entrepreneurial skills while you're at it.  That's why I align myself behind the FLSA standards (found here) and feel comfortable stating categorically that unpaid internships are only acceptable when done for college credit and in conjunction with a legitimate educational institution.  The rest of the working world is starting to catch up too.  Two weeks ago, three former interns sued Gawker Media for violating the FLSA, and a few weeks before that, a former Condé Nast intern sued the company for paying her $1.00 an hour under its internship program.  Hell, one law firm is specializing in these Fair Labor internship cases by identifying individuals who held unpaid internships and reviewing the conditions of their employment for possible wage-and-hour violations.

So this is all good news right?  Well anything is possible.  It's certainly possible that the Black Swan case and all the subsequent unpaid internship cases might cause a sea change in the way employers run their internship programs.  It's possible that they'll start paying interns for their work.

But I don't really think that's going to happen.  My fear is that the current system will just continue to lurch forward in spite of the Black Swan ruling.  Or worse, companies will strip out any real work or educational opportunities and relegate interns to picking up coffee, dry cleaning, and lunch orders.  Lord knows there are enough people out there willing to bet that an unpaid internship is a lesser evil than complete and utter unemployment... I can understand that.  But the system only changes if we all make the commitment together.  I hope Glatt and Footman's win is the beginning of that change.

Man of Steel, Man of Immigration

man-of-steel-flag

Last year during a set visit to the Plano, TX set of the new Superman movie Man of Steel, a reporter asked the film's director Zack Snyder whether the film would feature a young Clark Kent coming to terms with his powers while growing up in Kansas - a topic that was heavily tread on Smallville's ten season run.  Snyder responded, "You need a Superman that has built-in sort of values... I always remember everyone saying like, 'You're not going to show him growing up in Kansas, are you?' I'm like, 'Why make Superman?.... to understand him, you have to understand the Why of him.'"

The point he was making, inelegant though it be, demonstrates a key understanding of what makes Superman tick.  For decades, comic book writers were unabashed about the Why of Superman, the reason he is the way he is: he was raised in a loving household by two good-hearted, God-fearing, and hardworking American parents who accepted him despite his many differences and taught him the value of responsibility.  Clark Kent had the idealized American childhood, and that childhood made him grow up to become Superman.  It's something we could all aspire to, which is why he became a symbol of American exceptionalism - strength and dominance, tempered by benevolence and justice (sadly, it's also this fundamental goodness that makes Superman unpopular today.  He comes from a very 1950's mode of un-ironic thinking that makes people unable to identify with him).  His DNA may be Kryptonian, but he is a Kent, a Kansan, and an American in all other aspects of his being; his mid-western roots are the wellspring of his value system.  It's the ultimate nature vs. nurture question, with the writers hewing towards nurture at every opportunity.

But the Why of Superman also highlights an interesting dichotomy: Superman wears his homegrown American values on his blue spandex sleeve, but he is still an illegal alien.  Even though America is his adopted home, he is not a citizen and that makes him, politically speaking, someone to fear.  America has a long and storied history of xenophobia that is sadly still present today; treating aliens like second class citizens, regardless of whether they crossed into the U.S. from the Sonoran Desert or across the vast gulf of space.  The Immigration and Nationality Act, the law governing U.S. immigration policy, is designed to create a nearly impenetrable barrier to entry into the U.S.  Superman, the classic immigrant, would be no exception to our immigration policies.  And that means if Superman applies for U.S. citizenship through the usual channels, he's more likely to end up on a boat to Belize than taking the oath of citizenship.

So what are the usual channels that will fail the Last Son of Krypton in his efforts to become an American citizen?  Generally speaking, the only ways to become eligible for citizenship are through family-based or employment-based visas under INA Section 203(b).  I think we can rule out a family-based visa right off the bat.  For Superman to be eligible for one of those, he would have to be sponsored by a parent, sibling or spouse.  And to benefit from any one of those relationships, he would have to divulge his secret identity and his relationship to Jonathan and Martha Kent.  To do so would not only open them up to potential threats from the likes of Braniac, Bizarro, and General Zod, but also to potential criminal liability - they did, after all, harbor an illegal alien, a criminal offense punishable by upwards of 20 years in prison (I think it's safe to assume that Clark, being legally adopted by the Kents, possesses the appropriate documents - a passport and social security card - but cannot use those documents in his guise as Superman).

No if Superman wants to protect his alter ego and his family, his only other option is to get a job.  And his gig at the Daily Planet isn't going to cut it for the same reason that a family-based visa won't work for him. For an American employer to hire him, the employer would have to A) give others a chance to apply for the job by advertising the  opening to all qualified candidates and B) prove that he is the most qualified for the job, and C) that no American citizen was as willing, able, or qualified as him.   The employer would also have to prove that in hiring Superman, it was offering the "prevailing wage" and "prevailing working conditions."  In most cases, this is a difficult threshold to overcome, but not so for someone who can run faster than a locomotive and leap tall buildings in a single bound.  Frankly, I think most employers could report with a straight face that Superman is the best possible employee for whatever position he's hired for.

Those employment-based visas are limited, however.  The government allocates only a very small amount of them each year, although preference are given to "priority workers" who have

extraordinary abilit[ies] in the sciences, arts, education, business, or athletics which has been demonstrated by sustained national or international acclaim and whose achievements have been recognized in the field through extensive documentation. 

The last time I checked, there was no case-law describing how to categorize an immigrant who was powerful enough to push planets out of orbit and could take a vacation inside the sun, so I'm just going to wing it here and say that I think a credible argument could be made that Superman's abilities would fall into the "athletics" column.  Luckily for him, there's no question about Superman's feats drawing national and international acclaim.  Hell, any professional sports team could bring him on without a second guess.  And when you think about it, Superman's knowledge of Kryptonian technology could allow him to fall into the "sciences" column, making him a valuable commodity for defense contractors like Raytheon and Northrop Grumman, especially in light of the repeated extraterrestrial attacks his mere presence seems to draw towards Earth.

There's only one problem with this option.  Superman has no papers of any kind; no foreign passport, no identification card, no temporary visa.  He arrived as a newborn infant with no documentation and never passed through an authorized port of entry.  This makes him not only an illegal alien, but an undocumented one to boot, which means that no employer could hire him without opening their business to criminal liability.

So despite his extremely useful skill set, Superman can't avail himself of the usual channels since he lacks proper documentation.  That means the only other option available to the Man of Steel is to apply for asylum as a refugee under INA 208.  A refugee is defined as

any person who is outside any country of such person's nationality or, in the case of a person having no nationality,is outside any country in which such person last habitually resided, and who is unable or unwilling to return to, and is unable or unwilling to avail himself or herself of the protection of, that country because of persecution or a well-founded fear of persecution on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion...

It's safe to say that when Congress passed this bill, they hadn't contemplated its potential effect on aliens of extraterrestrial origin whose home planet had been destroyed by a nearby supernovae.  While Superman could argue in front of an immigration judge that he is "unable" to return to his place of origin since it no longer exists, it's not for any of the reasons outlined in the legal definition, making it difficult to know how a judge would look at his application for asylum (I suppose it could be argued that being the biological son of Jor-El, a renowned Kryptonian scientist who fell into disgrace due to his theories that Krypton was about to explode, could open Superman to some form of political persecution).  It's certainly plausible that Superman's particular status could be found to fall within the definition if he hires a savvy immigration attorney to make a compelling case, or the judge is able to make the facts fit the legal definition of "refugee."   But there's yet another hurdle even if this occurs; INA 208(2)(A) clearly states that asylum can be denied if the alien can be removed to a "safe third country"

in which the alien's life or freedom would not be threatened on account of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion, and where the alien would have access to a full and fair procedure for determining a claim to asylum or equivalent temporary protection...

Which basically means that the U.S. can deny Superman asylum if they determine that he can live safely in Canada.

Based on all of these factors, Superman is f**ked.  But that doesn't mean the story ends.  When an alien is denied citizenship for any reason, it falls to the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement branch (otherwise known as ICE) to deport that alien back to his or her country of origin.  But how do you deport Superman?  Assuming he can be somehow captured and subdued, he can easily be back across the border within the hour.  And even if deportation were possible, where do you deport Superman to?  He's not "from" anywhere on Earth, and the technology doesn't exist to send him back to Krypton, which would essentially be a death sentence anyway since there's a massive empty void where the planet used to be.

So Superman is here to stay, but failing some extraordinary intervention on behalf of Congress or the President, the U.S. will functionally remain closed to him.  There is hope, however, that this will not always be so. Word on the street is that our immigration law could change this year to create a path to citizenship for aliens who are already present in the U.S. without documentation.  The bill appears to be gaining bipartisan support and has been flogged repeatedly in the news by Republican Senator Marco Rubio.  If it goes through, it could make citizenship attainable for the Man of Steel.  And I think that such a bill is the right thing to do.  Not only for the millions of immigrants who want nothing more than to live and work in this country, but also for a man who stands for truth, justice, and the American way.  He's spent his life fighting for America; it's time to make him one of us.

Fairly Useful: Why Fair Use Is A Simple, But Dangerous Legal Doctrine

obama-obey-fair-use

I always knew that I would get around to writing a post on Fair Use much like I did a few weeks ago with the Work For Hire doctrine.  If I'm being honest, I should have done this a long time ago.  I have a fluctuating list of 15 to 25 topics for this blog and Fair Use has sat squarely at the top for almost six months. The only reason I neglected it: a healthy man-sized dose of procrastination (by which I mean I was more interested in writing about other topics).  But two things happened this week that made me realize I had to finally tackle the purple-fanged monster sitting at the top of my list.  First, I was asked by several readers to discuss Fair Use in greater depth than I have in the past.  And second, I was accused by a reader (who is not a lawyer, by the way) of not understanding how Fair Use works, an allegation that made me so mad I almost hulked out.  I'm certainly not perfect (my wife will regale you with stories confirming this fact), but I can guarantee you that if I'm writing about it on this blog, then I know what I'm talking about.

So in an effort to prove that naysayer wrong and shore up my ego, here's my take on what you need to know about Fair Use, a widely misunderstood doctrine that is used by artists and non-artists alike, oftentimes without even realizing they're doing it.

What is Fair Use?

Normally, when you use someone's copyrighted work without permission, that would constitute copyright infringement (only the owner has the exclusive right to reproduce, sell, or otherwise use their work) and you could end up having to fork over a handsome fee to the copyright owner if you're sued and you lose.  However, Fair Use is a legal defense that you can assert in certain situations that gets you around that pesky infringement thing.  In essence, Fair Use allows you to legally use someone else’s copyrighted work without their permission.  That's all it is.

But while the general concept of Fair use is easy to understand, it's not always easy to apply in practice.  That's because, like most things in the law, there's no hard and fast rule about it.  You have to apply a number of different factors (four of which are used regularly) to the situation and balance them against each other.  I've listed them below in their original Legalese, along with  modern English translation:

  1. The purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes
    • English Translation: What is your intended use of the original work? Profit?  Parody?  Education and criticism?  Has your use transformed the expression or meaning of the original work?  Profit is generally frowned upon, but parody, education, and news reporting/criticism are more likely to be given Fair Use protection (without Fair Use,  CNN would get sued every hour of everyday). The more your use changes the original work, the better a Fair Use defense will be.
  2. The nature of the copyrighted work
    • English Translation: Is the original work published or unpublished?  Fiction or Non-fiction?  Fair Use is generally more applicable if the work is non-fictional (based on facts) or published.
  3. The amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole
    • English Translation: How much of the original work are you using?  All of it? Some of it?  The less you use, the more likely you can assert Fair Use.
  4. The effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work
    • English Translation: Does your use deprive the copyright owner of income or undermine a new or potential market for the copyrighted work?  Basically, if your use can take money out of the copyright owner's pocket (even if you're not using it for your own personal financial gain), then that's infringement.

I could spend days discussing each of these factors in greater depth, and maybe at some point down the line I'll devote individual blog posts to the vagaries and intricacies of each one.  For now I'll just say that none of these factors intrinsically carry more weight than the others and judges have a lot of discretion over how to balance them.  For instance, a lot of people assume that if they don't profit from the use of someone's copyrighted work, that will be enough to allow them to apply Fair Use.  But some courts have de-emphasized the importance of financial gain; if the copyright owner's bottom line could be negatively affected, then using their copyright can still be infringement (and thus not Fair Use) even if the infringing party never makes a cent.

Misconceptions

Like the profit issue I just mentioned, there are a bunch of  other misconceptions people regularly make about Fair Use, so I thought I'd mention a few of the more common ones here.

  1. Acknowledgement of the source material will give you Fair Use protection.  Not even a little bit.  While it's a good CYA move to credit the artist/author/copyright owner anytime you use their work (whether you asked for permission or not), simply giving them credit doesn't get you off the hook.  You can still be sued for infringement and found liable, based on how the factors above are weighed.
  2. The copyright owner can prevent your Fair Use of their work simply by adding a disclaimer.  Also not true.  In the past I've seen artists try to prevent unauthorized use of their works by attaching a note or disclaimer saying something to the effect of "this work is not subject to Fair Use."  Um, yeah buddy, it is.  Sorry.  Fair Use is always applicable and takes precedence over the author's desire, assuming of course that your use falls within the above-mentioned factors.
  3. If you copy the entire work, you don't get Fair Use protection.  Like I said before, the amount of the work used is only one factor that is considered.  Now using the entire work certainly won't help you and I generally advise against it, but depending on the other three factors (especially if your use transforms the meaning or expression of the original work), your may be able to use the whole piece and have that be a Fair Use.
  4. Fair Use will prevent you from being sued.  NOPE!  This is probably the biggest mistake I see people make and it's an assumption that makes Fair Use extraordinarily dangerous, so watch out.  Do not assume that Fair Use is some "get-out-of-jail free" card that will protect you from litigation.  Fair Use does not prevent you from being sued.  Ever.  Fair Use is what lawyers call an "affirmative defense" and it can only be asserted after you've been sued.  This is why it's really important that artists don't rely wholesale on their understanding of the doctrine, even if they're right!  While Fair Use can be an effective tool, it can only be exercised once you're in the middle of a legal kerfuffle which will cost you lots of time and money.

As with many of the topics I discuss on this blog, I over-simplified here and left some stuff out for the sake of brevity.  My goal here isn't to give you a Master's level understanding of the details and intricacies of Fair Use - or any legal doctrine for that matter.  Rather, I'm trying to make you aware of the forces you play with when you use someone else's copyrighted work.  Whether your use of something qualifies as Fair Use actually depends very heavily on the specifics of your case.  And even if you think your use qualifies for Fair Use protection, don't simply make that assumption and leave it there.  Ask for permission to use the work, and if you elect not to ask permission, seek professional legal advice to see if your intended use is covered by Fair Use.  

Fair Use is no mystery, but if you don't treat it with respect, it can do irreparable harm to you.  Just ask Shepard Fairey.

Ask Greg: Why You Don't Need To Register Your Copyright or Trademark Even Though You Should

I get lots of questions from artists with legal conundrums. Lots. And most of those questions tend to be variations on some common theme. So when I notice a pattern emerging, I'll wait for a bunch of similar questions to build up and then do a blog post on it - usually framed around an interesting new story, personal experience, or some other flight of fancy. Sometimes I'll discuss it in such a way that the question I'm answering is buried in the overall telling, that way it's not obvious that I'm addressing an issue that several people are facing. The question I'm answering today is a little different though, since it may in fact be the most asked question I receive. So instead of addressing it in conjunction with some framing device, I'm just going to attack it head on so there's no ambiguity. And if you like this no-nonsense approach, let me know in the comments section and I'll make Ask Greg a recurring column.

*****

Q: When should I copyright my work?

A: Never. Never ever. Let me say this as clearly and as loudly as I can: you never need to copyright your work because under U.S. Copyright Law, copyright attaches to the work automatically from the moment the work is "fixed in a tangible medium of expression." That copyright is there to protect your right to own and exploit the work and it exists independently of any other considerations: you don't need to tell anybody that the copyright belongs to you and you don't need to attach the famous © symbol. You don't even need to sign your work (although you should absolutely do all those things anyway). There. Question answered, your job is done.

Okay not really. Because this question isn't really asking whether you should copyright your work, it's asking whether you should register your work. And that is a wholly different calculus. I've talked in the past about where you should register your work (the most common is the U.S. copyright website) and how you can get that registration, so I won't go into that again here. Instead, I will tell you why registration is worth it, even though you don't have to.

Why You Don't HaveTo Register Your Work

Because Copyright Law already protects your ownership over the work. The law doesn't stop working for you just because you elect not to register your copyright with the government. Also, registration fees can really add up since each piece of work must be registered individually. So the more art you create, the more expensive it will get for you to register your art. Someone asked me last week if they could batch register a group of works at the same time. The answer is no, unfortunately. Registrations protect individual works of expression, so unless the separate pieces are meant to be viewed as part of a whole (i.e. short stories in an anthology), they have to be registered solo.

Why Registration Worth Is It

Well first off, if you decided to sue someone in for infringement - i.e. someone uses your work for profit without your permission - you will have to register the work with the Copyright Office before you can bring the lawsuit into court (it's cheaper to register online). So frankly, having that registration beforehand is just easier. But beyond that, registration is a great way to protect your copyright because it creates an official government record demonstrating when your work was created. They even send you a fancy registration certificate for your records. So if you do eventually sue someone for infringement, that registration is proof that your work preceded the infringing use. Of course, having a copyright registration isn't the only way to prove that your work came first... but it is the best way by far. That's partly because as an official government record, copyright registrations are granted a lot of authority in a courtroom setting (government documents are self-authenticating, which means your lawyer doesn't have to prove that the registration is what it claims to be. This, by the way, is good deal for you - the less time your lawyer spends proving a document's authenticity means you're spending less on attorneys fees).

You can read all about registration procedures and a few other benefits here if you're so inclined. The basic gist is that registration isn't really necessary most of the time unless you need to sue someone. Think of it this way: Copyright registration is like auto insurance. You may never need it, but if you get into a car crash, it'll save your butt. That said, if you don't register your copyright but you do suffer from infringement, there are still all sorts of ways you can go after the infringing party - cease and desist letters, DMCA takedown notices, and demands for licensing fees, among others.

Added Bonus: What About Trademark Registration?

While Copyright Law protects works of artistic expression fixed in a tangible medium (i.e. art), Trademark Law protects any word, name, symbol or device, used by a person in commerce (i.e. a logo you use in business, your company name, or even a catchphrase). Trademark registration shares many of the same characteristics as a copyright registration - the main difference is the manner in which the work gets infringed.

Similarities: Just like copyright, you don't need to register your trademark in order to have protection under the law. Once you start using a trademark in commerce, it will automatically have some level of protection against infringement. If you do decide to register your mark with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO), it will requires a fee and you'll get a tony little certificate of registration indicating that there is now an official government record of your trademark.

Differences: Unlike copyright, if you don't register your trademark with the USPTO, the protection you'll have over your mark will be regional only - an official registration gives you nationwide protection (for example: I start a company called "Greg's Beets." If I register my company name, then anyone in the country who uses that name could be subject to a trademark infringement lawsuit. On the flipside, if I don't register the "Greg's Beets" corporate name with the USPTO, my mark will only be protected within the state). If you want, you can actually register your mark directly with the state as well: the USPTO website has a page devoted to all the state sites where you can register your mark. Most registrations have to happen with each state's Secretary of State.

One Last Note About Symbols

When you have a piece of copyrighted art, you are allowed to use the © symbol whether or not you choose to register with the Copyright Office. The © is a gift and you should absolutely use it at every opportunity because it signals to the world that your work is protected (a lot of people assume that if the © is missing, the work is not copyrighted; even though that's not true, don't give them the opportunity to think that).

The same applies in trademark situations: You are allowed to use the ™ symbol even if you don't register your mark and your work is protected whether or not you use it. But as with the ©, you should still use it. The ™ indicates that you intend to use the mark in commerce. It's just good business to get in the habit of putting a ™ on your trademarks.

That said, do not use the ® symbol without officially registering your mark with the USPTO. That mark is reserved squarely for marks that have been registered and use of it could result in a fine of some kind.

Protecting The Brand: Beyonce Knowles vs. The First Amendment

Remember when Beyoncé performed during the Super Bowl halftime show and this hilarious meme-birthing picture was taken?

Superbowl XLVII - Baltimore Ravens v San Francisco 49ers  - Mercedes-Benz Superdome

And then she flipped out and tried to have it scrubbed from the entire internet?  Well, three months later and Queen Bey is back at it.  She's currently on her Mrs. Carter Show World Tour and she completely banned outside photographers, while releasing only pre-approved flattering pics to various news outlets.  Beyoncé's goal  is to have total control over her image, so instead of newspapers and websites running photos of her looking like She Hulk, she'll instead look like this:

beyonce-mrs-carter-world-tour_612x612

Reasonable minds can argue whether the kind of control she's attempting is even possible in the internet age (hint: it isn't).  But I'm more curious about the effect that this kind of totalitarianism will have on her brand.  The conventional wisdom is that Beyoncé isn't doing herself any favors by limiting press access to her and having relentless control over the pressers that do get access.  On the face of it, it makes her seem out of touch with reality.  But is that harmful to her brand?  I'm not so sure. The people who love Beyoncé are already convinced of her beauty, talent, and semi-royal status and are willing to write off the unflattering pics as aberrations.  And the people who don't love her?  Well they certainly won't be convinced by these autocratic methods, but I don't think she's trying to win them over anyway. Beyoncé knows herself and her audience, and as long as they keep her rich and famous, that's probably enough.

I've seen it argued that Beyoncé's grasp on her self-awareness is tenuous at best if she thinks she can control her image to this degree, but I would argue that she's read the situation better than we giver her credit for.  After all, she hasn't sued anyone to take down the unflattering pictures (to my knowledge, she only sent polite email requests to various outlets), and that fact tells me that she knows where the line is between egomania and villainy and she's not willing to cross it.

So my guess is that while this probably won't make her MORE popular, her brand is as safe as any celebrity brand can be.  But I say that with one caveat: she should avoid alienating the press, because they're the ones who can bring about her destruction.  If you've seen Beyoncé in interviews - as well as the remarkably self-serving HBO documentary she directed about herself - it's clear that she is a person of extreme self-confidence.  And the confidence she has in her abilities has driven some of the press to turn on her and lose their own grasps on reality.

In particular, the National Press Photographers Association.  They're claiming that the restrictions placed on them by Beyoncé and her management team is preventing them from doing their jobs, and that violates the First Amendment.   No, sorry fellas.  I understand that you're angry at having your access to Beyoncé cut off, but the First Amendment isn't applicable here.  Constitutional Law 101 tells us that the First Amendment only prevents the federal government (and state governments through a process known as incorporation) from restricting your freedoms of speech, press, religion, etc.  It says nothing about whether a person or organization can restrict your First Amendment rights... because they can!  Behold the text of the First Amendment:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

As you can see, not a word leading you to believe that individuals (like Beyoncé!) or corporations (like Beyoncé!) can't place restrictions on the press at events.  In fact, all of the Amendments in the Bill of Rights are there to prevent the government from limiting your rights.  But they apply only to the government.  So while Beyoncé's ban on photogs at her concerts may not be the best PR move, there's no legal reason she can't do it.

Illegal Graffiti Gets Copyright Protection Because It Is Still Art

Everyday on my walk home from work, I see this or something like it tagged to the side of my apartment building:

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Graffiti intrigues me because of its contentious nature in "civilized" society.  The artist in me is excited by the skill and craftsmanship involved in making something like this (although I can barely read it; it might as well be written in Klingon).  But the law-abiding citizen in me tempers that excitement with the knowledge that graffiti, unlike most other forms of art, is predicated on using someone else's property as a canvas... often without their consent.   And because graffiti is usually illegal, it raises a decorum problem that often confuses people into thinking that the normal rights of copyright ownership don't apply - i.e. "you can't copyright protect vandalism because it is illegal."  But that's bunk.

I've known a fair few graffiti artists over my lifetime and I can safely say that they're not a populace that's overly concerned with asserting ownership rights over their work.   Primarily because asserting ownership would be an admission of guilt resulting in some form of criminal penalty such as a fine or even jail time (there's a reason Banksy can't revealed his identity, after all).  The other part of it is the political motivation that often accompanies graffiti: that property ownership is a social construct anathema to the public good.  Why else vandalize someone else's building with such artistry and flair when a sledgehammer or molotov cocktail can drive home the same point in a fraction of the time?  [Author's note: of course, there's always the possibility that the graffiti was commissioned by the property owner, in which case, the tagger is not burdened with criminal concerns and will want to assert and maintain copyright ownership. Here's an interesting NY Times article from 2007 about graffiti artists who were upset when their commissioned works were mistaken for vandalism and photos of the graffiti ended up being published in a book without their permission.  If you're a graffiti artist who is hired by a paying party, you should really check out my last post on work-for-hire.]

But make no mistake about it, graffiti artists, even the covert ones tagging buildings without permission, do have ownership rights over their work.  Graffiti is absolutely 100% protected under U.S. Copyright Law and I'll have words with anyone who says otherwise.  Our copyright law lists the following types of works that are granted copyright protection:

  1. literary works;
  2. musical works, including any accompanying words;
  3. dramatic works, including any accompanying music;
  4. pantomimes and choreographic works;
  5. pictorial, graphic, and sculptural works;
  6. motion pictures and other audiovisual works;
  7. sound recordings; and
  8. architectural works

And while graffiti (along with many other forms of art) is never explicitly mentioned anywhere in our copyright laws, it's clear that the list was purposefully left open-ended to grant protections to art forms that hadn't yet been invented and hadn't been contemplated by the drafters of the law.  I should also point out that nowhere in our copyright law does it say that a type of art forgoes protection simply because it could be illegal.  That's what this article by Celia Lerman argues and I agree without reservation.   Copyright law places no judgment on art, the motivation behind the art, or the form in which the art takes.  It is, for all intents and purposes, judgment neutral.

The fact that an artist can own the copyright to a piece of illegally made art that emblazons the side of someone else's property creates an interesting dynamic when a third party takes a photograph of that graffiti (like the one I took above) and attempts to profit off of it.  That's infringement of copyright and doing so without the artist's permission could actually result in the artist taking you to court and winning monetary damages (if the artist isn't concerned about the criminal ramifications, obviously).  Luckily, I'm in the clear because I can assert Fair Use over my photo since it was taken for non-commercial, educational purposes.  But if you're like the photographer in that NY Times article I linked to above, watch out!

So ownership over the copyright to graffiti is vested in the artist regardless of its legality.  But that's not the end of the story, because that art, while owned by the artist, is completely reliant on someone else's private property.  And property is kind of a big deal in this country.  The right to property is mentioned explicitly in the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments, and the Third Amendment is built entirely around it.  Let's not even go into the entire legal disciplines that arose around property law and made my life in law school an unwinnable shit-show.  Property is important, which means that the needs and wishes of the property owner will almost always supersede the rights of the graffiti artist.  So when my landlord decides to blast off the graffiti adorning my building with a power washer, he can do that without fear of legal repercussions from the artist (although why bother?  The taggers are just going to show up again).

The truth is, despite the political hand wringing over it, graffiti is just like any other type of art form and gets the same protections.  What makes it difficult at times is its relationship to the surrounding environment.  And unfortunately, as long as graffiti remains illegal, the oath I took to uphold the law will mean I have to walk a fine line between the rights of the artist and the rights of the canvas owner.  It will be, for the foreseeable future, an issue that tugs on my Gemini heartstrings.