Copying is Copying: Homages, Tributes, and Fanboyism Are Dangerous For Artists

As far as the law is concerned, copying is copying, no matter how noble your intentions.

I'm an artist too, so I get it. We are constantly bombarded by stimuli, so it's hard not to be inspired by those images. And it's even harder to avoid relying on those images when we make our own work. My advice is to try even harder than that. Because, unfortunately, copyright holders (often, but not always, large corporations) are less inclined to care about why you copied them and more inclined to sue you into oblivion if that's what they feel is required to protect their work.

Case in point: last month, a Boston-based company called Autonomie was sued for trademark infringement by Converse for making a sneaker so similar to Converse's iconic Chuck Taylors that it's nearly impossible to tell the two apart (the shoe is actually manufactured by a British company called Ethletic). Here are the shoes side-by-side.

But this isn't just ripping off for the sake of ripping off. Autonomie is all about using eco-friendly materials and fair trade practices so as to produce "high-quality garments at competitive prices to consumers that wish to make purchases with a social and environmental impact without having to sacrifice their own personal style, or break their wallet."  That's a pretty good reason, right? Too bad. The law says this is trademark infringement because there's a high likelihood that the two shoes would be confused with each other, thus steering profits away from Converse. In trademark law, this is called "blurring." Autonomie's reasons may be noble, but noble doesn't go very far in court.

Remember the whole Robin Thicke/ Marvin Gaye copyright infringement situation that came up a few months ago? Thicke was so inspired by Gaye's work that he wanted to make a song that sounded like something Gaye himself might have written. The end result was that Thicke's fanboyism got him in a legal tussle with Gaye's family.

The reasons for copying rarely matter from a legal perspective. There are very few mechanisms in the law that allow it, and they only apply in certain situations. Fair use, is the most commonly used exception but the only way to find out if it protects you is to get sued, go through months of litigation and thousands of dollars in legal fees, and find out in court. As far as I'm concerned, getting sued and winning is the same as losing because the amount of time and money required to defend yourself would never be recouped.

Copyright holders don't care what your reasons are. They only care if your work will take money out of their pocket. So don't pay homage. Don't pay tribute. Don't use the copyrighted works of others unless they give you written permission. If they don't give you permission, be creative and find another way to express yourself. Be original always in all ways, because copying someone else, even if your intention is to honor them, is the quickest way to get legally smashed. And instead of making art, you'll be paying off copyright fines.

Don't Throw Out The Baby With The Bathwater: Changing Laws, The "I Have A Dream" Speech, And Copyright Policy

This Wednesday is the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech. If you're like me, then you've probably seen snippets of that speech a hundred times, but never seen the full unedited version. That's because the speech is protected under copyright law until 2038, and anyone who copies, distributes, shares, or posts a video of the speech online will be violating copyright law and will legally owe restitution to the video's owner... Sony.* [Like when Sony ordered advocacy group Fight For The Future to remove the video from its website.]

Am I the only who thinks this is terrible? What kind of policy allows a major corporation to sue someone who wants to share with others THE ICONIC CIVIL RIGHTS MOMENT OF OUR TIME? Who is this policy protecting?

You may have noticed that I'm pretty vocal when I think changes should be made to U.S. policy, specifically copyright law. As a result, I've been accused several times of pursuing a "throw out the baby with the bathwater" agenda. But that's not really accurate since I've never called for scrapping laws wholesale. I have, on the other hand, advocated for revising laws that don't work as intended. I personally see advocating for better and smarter laws as my duty, not just as a lawyer, but as an American citizen (which, not so ironically, was kind of the point of Dr. King's speech).

And what's wrong with supporting change anyway? Not to be overly dramatic here, but America was founded on this whole idea of "it's not working out, so let's do something better." We went to war with England because we didn't like the way they governed us. We constructed a republican system of government that permits us to remove and replace politicians we don't like. We gave Congress the power to revise, update, and repeal laws because we recognized that people are imperfect and they will pass imperfect laws. When a law doesn't achieve its goal, it should absolutely be amended. The U.S. Copyright Act alone has been amended at least 10 times since 1790.

I keep saying it, but it bears repeating: copyright law wasn't created solely for the purpose of rewarding the artist. It was also designed to foster originality and ingenuity for the betterment of society (the founding fathers didn't measure capitalist success purely through personal wealth. Community prosperity was also a driving factor) and to shield artists from theft. It wasn't intended to be used as a weapon to attack others. Which is why the problem isn't that Sony owns the copyright to Dr. King's speech; the problem is what it can do to harm individuals who wish to share it. Simply put, Sony has the muscle and will to litigate against anyone who posts the video, regardless of the intent of the individual or their ability to fight back. And I don't think that's right.

In that spirit, here are two ideas that I think will be effective in revamping copyright law to better serve the American people.

1. Shorten the term limits on copyrights. Yeah, I've talked about this a lot. That just shows you how much I care about this issue. Copyright law was not designed to allow copyright owners to make money off a work in perpetuity. In fact, under the Copyright Act of 1790, copyright terms were set by the founders for a mere 14 years, specifically to prevent perpetual ownership. By shortening copyright terms, major corporate copyright owners such as Sony won't be able to bully individuals when they share something as innocuous and educational as Dr. King's speech. You can read a more complete take on that here.
2. Create exemptions in our copyright laws for works that hold special historical significance. The "I Have A Dream" speech literally changed lives and shaped events in the 20th Century. Yet under our current copyright law, it's treated like every other work of artistic expression. A work of such historic stature shouldn't be owned by any one entity. It belongs to all Americans in the same way the Declaration of Independence and the Emancipation Proclamation do and it should be available to everyone, free of charge.

Change is in our national DNA. History has borne that out repeatedly, so why fight it? Dr. King believed that. Who are we to assume differently?

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* Dr. King himself owned the copyright and even sued to prevent unlawful reproductions of the speech so that he could distribute profits from it to civil rights causes. After his death, the copyright passed to his family, who sold the copyright to EMI in 2009. EMI was purchased by Sony in 2011.

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

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

[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

"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

[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.

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

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?

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:

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:

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.