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

Two 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.

Thor's Dark World: Why Over-Delivering is a Breach of Contract

Thor: The Dark World, the sequel to Marvel's 2011 hit Thor is currently deep in post-production and is slated for release this winter.  If you've been following the production of the film like I have, then you've heard rumors that Marvel President Kevin Feige and the film's director Alan Taylor are in the midst of a major disagreement.   The nature of that disagreement remains a mystery, but one recent rumor claims that the fight is over - of all things - the running time of the film.  Taylor apparently wants the film to run for two and a half hours, while Feige wants the film to clock in at two hours even.  Evidently, the conflict has gotten so bad that editing has halted and a mediator has allegedly been brought in to resolve the situation.

Now this rumor may be complete BS (although the rumor mill has been swirling for weeks that Taylor was taken off the film, right before composer Carter Burwell's exit a few days ago), but I thought it was unique opportunity to highlight an interesting little wrinkle in contract law.  Namely, that over-delivering on a contract is technically a breach and can result in a lawsuit for damages.

Holy Hell?  You can actually be sued for giving the other party more than they originally bargained for?  Yes you can, and if these rumors are true, it's exactly what Feige appears to be accusing Taylor of - breach of contract by delivering more movie than was originally requested.  It feels counter-intuitive to say that getting MORE than you paid for is somehow a negative thing worth suing over, and to some extent that's right.  It's rarely considered a bad thing to get more than you asked and if you were to sue over it, a judge would probably dismiss the case and maybe even hit you with a Rule 11 sanction for bringing a frivolous lawsuit.  That's probably why Marvel is bringing in a mediator instead of suing Taylor outright.  Why waste the time and money to sue the guy when a judge would just dismiss the case because of its inherent ridiculousness?

But a breach is a breach, even if benefits the aggrieved party.  There's a reason why high-level contracts like these are so time-consuming and expensive to put together; the parties have very specific needs and demands. You can bet your bottom dollar that if a provision ends up in a contract, no matter how absurd it seems,  it's important to the parties that it gets carried out exactly as written.  Any deviation from the terms of the contract is considered a modification, which is not enforceable without the approval of both sides.

And anyway when you think about it, over-delivering on a contract can actually be a negative thing in some situations.  Movie studio generally hate long films because they can't schedule as many showings - 5 to 6 showings per theater per day for a two hour film as opposed to 3 or 4 for a three hour film - meaning the film will make less money during its theatrical run (Although Avatar and The Lord of the Rings films bucked that trend). Marvel is not, after all, a charity.  They want to make as much money as they can, and they've contracted with their talent a certain way to achieve that goal.  If Taylor's contract does indeed specify that he is to deliver a two hour film, and he breaches that provision by delivering a movie that's 30 minutes too long, then it could actually be detrimental to Marvel.  Marvel will be required to spend extra time and extra money they hadn't planned on to edit the film down to the requested two hours.  Reasonable minds can argue whether it is financially or artistically prudent to predetermine a film's running time before a director has even been hired, but Marvel has determined what it wants, has contracted to get what it wants, and is perfectly within its right to enforce that.

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.

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of Copyright Duration

Is Sherlock Holmes in the public domain?  Holmes scholar and lawyer Leslie S. Klinger believes so, and he is suing the Conan Doyle estate to prove just that.

It all started, as these things do, with money.  You see, a few years ago Klinger published a new Holmes novel and, like many who wished to capitalize on the popularity of Sherlock (Guy Ritchie and Steven Moffat in particular), he paid a hefty licensing fee to the Conan Doyle estate for the privilege.

Recently, Klinger decided to have another go at Sherlock; in particular, he wanted to publish a collection of short stories. Once again, the Conan Doyle estate demanded a payout.  Much like the Tolkien estate, the Conan Doyles are renowned to be fiercely protective of their copyright and they doggedly pursue anyone whom they feel infringes it.  This time, however, Klinger decided to sue the estate as a preemptive measure, claiming that Holmes and his entire canon (supporting character like Watson, Moriarty, Mrs. Hudson, the house at 221B Baker St, character traits like Holmes' deductive reasoning and friendship with Watson, etc.) were in the public domain and thus, he didn't have to pay them a licensing fee.

This is a pretty serious move and in all likelihood it has legal support.  That's because in the United States all works published before 1922 are automatically in the public domain and are thus available for anyone to profit from. [Author's note: aside from pre-1922 works, any work whose copyright expires will move into the public domain.]  Sherlock Holmes made his first appearance in 1887's A Study in Scarlet, and nearly his entire world found its way into print before 1922.  By that logic, it's hard to see how the character won't be found to be in the public domain, and if a judge does find for Klinger, that's going to have major repercussions for the character.

In contrast, the estate argues that because Sir Arthur was still publishing Holmes stories as late as 1927, the character and his entire canon don't fall into the public domain. That's where the wrinkle in this case appears.  Apparently, one of the authors whose short story Klinger wants to publish used a Holmes character that didn't appear in a published work until 1924. The case is really interesting and you can read all about it here.

I brought up this issue because of a quote at the end of the article.  When interviewed about the Klinger v. Conan Doyle case, New York based entertainment lawyer John J. Tormey III said that, "Copyright was intended by its progenitors to be a limited monopoly, not an indefinite monopoly."  Amen brother!  On at least two occasions (here and here), I've discussed how the original purpose behind copyright protection in the U.S. wasn't to grant the author everlasting control at the expense of all others, but to foster innovation for the betterment of society.  Our creative landscape is littered with copyright owners (some individuals and families, but mostly corporations), holding their copyrights in an iron death grip, suing the crap out of anyone large or small (usually small), in order to prevent them profiting from that copyright.

That's why I think we need a drastic overhaul when it comes to duration of copyright - in modern political parlance, I would say that I've "evolved" on the matter... which really means I was never a fan of the current duration allowing a copyright to last for the life of the author, plus 70 years (and going up to 95 years for corporate copyright holders), but I just never felt comfortable saying it aloud until now.  Forgive my lack of lawyerly eloquence, but life plus 70 is just too damn long.  Look, I get that if you create something that's profitable, you want to be able to control it, make your living off of it, and provide for you family.  That's a natural instinct and a praise-worthy one.  Piracy - the use of your work without your permission - should be dissuaded and punished where appropriate.

The problem with the current durational scheme is that it results in less innovation and artistic expression and more lawsuits.  Under the current law, the author's estate can use and exploit the author's original work for several generations after he dies. If you can stay rich off of your grandpa's work, what incentivizes you to create your own work of artistic expression...to add something to society?  Even worse, many works of artistic expression end up being purchased by large corporations who use their considerable resources to suppress smaller artists who wish to use those copyrights as points of inspiration for their own work.  [Corporate bullying of individual artists is one of my bugaboos.]

That's why I propose the following four-tiered amendment:

1. A copyright will last for the life of the author and no longer.  Upon the author's death, the copyright will move into the public domain.
2. If the author sells the copyright to another party (a corporation, say), the party will have 15 years to use the copyright.  If the party does not use the copyright in 15 years, the copyright will revert in full back to the author.  If the author dies before the copyright can revert back to him, the copyright will expire and the work will move into the public domain.
3. if the author sells the copyright to a non-corporate buyer, and the buyer uses the copyright within the 15 year timeframe, the copyright will last for the life of the buyer.  Upon the buyer's death, the copyright will move into the public domain.
4. If the author sells the copyright to a corporate buyer and the corporation uses the copyright with the 15 year timeframe, the copyright will last for 70 years, measured from the original sale of the copyright.  At the end of the 70 year period, the copyright will move into the public domain.

I know, this makes me look like an anti-free market socialist.  In fact, I'm willing to bet within two days of publishing this post, I'll get some pushback on the feasibility of this system or the logic behind it.  I don't care though. The truth is, limiting copyright ownership is the best way to spur innovation and growth, which is what our founding fathers envisioned.  A system like this will help limit perpetual copyright monopolies and inspire copyright holders to be pushing boundaries.  Hell, even The Economist agrees that copyright durations should be shorter, so I can't be totally out of my mind.

Sherlock Holmes is probably in the public domain already, but if he isn't, he should be.  Arthur Conan Doyle created him over 120 years ago and his descendants have profited amply from his popularity.  Now it's time for Conan Doyle's great-grand kids to go out there and make their own mark on society and let the world have Sherlock.

Topless Celebrity Photos! Or How To Get Sued Like A Paparazzo

A few weeks ago, I wrote this piece about how artists own the copyright to their work even after they've sold the physical manifestation of that work (i.e. retaining the copyright over a painting even after selling the physical painting to a buyer).  The post generated a lot of interest and in the ensuing discussion, I got several variants of this question:

"If I take a topless photo of [Hot Celebrity Female] at a secluded beach, can she interfere with my ownership over that photo and prevent me from mass producing it and make a mint?"

As with everything in the law, the answer is a resounding "kind of!" Hot Celebrity Female can indeed interfere with your ability to profit from selling topless photos of her to a tabloid... but not through manipulation of copyright ownership (which, I presume, is what the question was really asking). When the subject of your art is another person, they cannot interfere with your ownership of the copyright, nor can they claim ownership rights over that photo simply because they are the subject.  The copyright is vested only in the artist except in these three scenarios:

1. Sale of the copyright to another (i.e. selling the photo and copyright to TMZ)
2. Conveyance of the copyright through a bequest or gift (i.e. giving the photo and copyright to a family member or friend)
3. Certain work for hire situations (usually on projects that require collaboration, like films)

"But," you might ask, "don't celebrities have ownership rights over their personal appearances?"  Nope.  Neither copyright nor trademark law offer protection over your personal appearance.  Trademark law DOES allow you to register many other visual elements such as logos, symbols, patterns, designs - but your personal appearance is not granted any protection under the intellectual property laws of this country.  This means that, unless you sell or gift the copyright, or the copyright isn't yours to begin with, there's really nothing that Hot Celebrity Female can do to interfere with your ownership.  If you are inclined to do so, you are free to take a highly compromising picture of her and sell or license that copyright to TMZ, The Daily Mail, The New York Post, and any other publication that profits from the exploitation of celebrity culture.  You'll probably make a small bounty doing that and in fact, there's an entire group of professional photographers who make their living precisely this way: the paparazzi.

But that's not the end of the story.  Owning the copyright to topless photos of Hot Celebrity Female does not give you an unassailable right to do whatever you please with those photographs.  Even though she has no ownership rights over the photos, she can still take you to court in a big way.  Everyone - from the lowliest plebe to the most glorious celebrity - has a right to a certain degree of privacy, and tort law provides several tools that allow people to fight an invasion of that privacy.

One of the more potent tools that celebs like to use is something called "appropriation of name or likeness."  An appropriation of name or likeness is considered an invasion of privacy when a person uses your name or likeness  for commercial purposes without your permission.  So when you take a compromising photograph of a celebrity, especially in locations where they have a certain expectation of privacy, you open yourself to liability.  That's why paparazzi and the magazines they sell to get sued ALL THE TIME.  Usually, if the celebrity is in a public place, like at a restaurant or on a red carpet, there's little they can do to fight publication of that image, so an appropriation of likeness claim won't go very far.  But when the photo is snapped in a private location (like in their backyards or on a balcony at a remote resort in the rain forest), you could end up losing all the money you made from selling that picture.  Remember last fall when some paparazzo snapped photos of a topless Kate Middleton on a secluded balcony using a telephoto lens? Do you remember the Royal family suing the french magazine that published them?  The magazine lost that battle because Princess Kate wasn't photographed topless at a public beach... she was on a private balcony that was obscured by tree cover.  The only way the photographer was able to get those photos was by using the kind of lens usually reserved for NSA spy satellites.

So the moral of the story... Hot Female Celebrity can't take away your ownership over that photo you took of her.  But she can, in some situations, prevent you from making money off of it.  You, as the photographer, have to decide whether all that trouble is worth it just to catch a glimpse of Kate Middleton's boobs.

[Updated!] Paper Equals Proof, Why You Should Get Everything In Writing

"A verbal contract isn't worth the paper it's written on." - Samuel Goldwyn

Even though this quote is both misattributed and didn't actually happen, I love it because it speaks a simple truth about contracts. Namely, if you don't have one in writing, you don't have one.

When I first moved to LA after graduating from RISD, I picked up some freelance work from an indie producer who was trying to get some low-budget TV projects off the ground.  He liked my moxie and we got along well, so he hired me as a camera-operator for a demo he was producing.  He offered me $100 per day for three days work in a transaction that was conducted orally.  I wanted the offer in writing, but I was so desperate for work that I didn't want to negotiate myself out of the job by asking for it.

Yes, I was stupid for not getting it in writing and when he stiffed me on half the payment, we both knew that even though a verbal contract is legally enforceable, I couldn't prove that he owed me another $150. There are thousands of young artists - and a whole lot of experienced ones - in the same boat who don't put anything in writing because they don't know that they should, can't be bothered, or think that drafting a contract is too expensive and/or time-consuming.  Now I certainly can't do anything about laziness or apathy, but I can tell you why contracts are important and how you can draft your own.

As a lawyer, I like everything in writing because paper equals proof; that is to say, having something in writing is proof that a conversation took place, or that an agreement occurred.  That's all a contract is after all: evidence that an agreement took place so that if you end up in a legal battle, you can prove your side of the story.  Otherwise you end up in a "he said/he said" situation and courts generally don't look favorably on those. So for the love of God, if you're hired to make a work of art, or you sell a piece of art, memorialize it somewhere somehow.  "But Greg" you might say, "don't contracts have to be drafted by lawyers?"  Well my friends, here's the dirty little secret behind contracts - NOPE!

At the risk of negotiating myself out of potential clients (I do that a lot, don't I?), a contract is no more enforceable in court just because it was written by a lawyer.  Obviously there are certain benefits to having a contract drafted by someone with a legal education - namely a lawyer can think of all sorts of ways to protect you in writing than you couldn't dream of - but if you're like most artists out there, then you don't have a lot of discretionary cash lying around to make this happen.  So instead, I'm going to give you some tips to help you make your own while maximizing your self-protection.

1. For a contract/agreement/bill of sale to be valid, it must state all the material terms.  Specifically, you need to mention the parties involved in the transaction, the quantity of items sold or the type of service rendered, and price.  You should also put anything else you think is important.  If you don't wish to have a return policy, make sure to state that all sales are final.
2. If you're shipping a work to a buyer, write down which party is liable if the art is destroyed or damaged during shipment.  This is called Risk of Loss and can bite you in the ass if it's not discussed ahead of time.
3. Make sure to mention who owns the copyright upon completion of the work.  If it's a work-for-hire situation, you could end up losing it without even realizing it.
4. Use plain English.  Most people think a contract needs a lot of "heretofore's" and "wherein's" and "thusly's"  but they just make it harder to read.  Instead, draft a contract like you would draft a professional email to a colleague.
5. Email chains are acceptable in lieu of a paper agreement as long as the material terms are there and understood by all parties.
6. For bills of sale, they can be sent after the sale, although they still need the material terms.
7. You can use a template version so you don't have to draft a new one from scratch for each transaction.
8. Keep two copies of each final agreement, one physical paper copy and one scanned copy on your hard drive.
9. A contract isn't valid if both parties don't agree to all the terms.  Before you start working, make sure the other party is on board because you could end up doing a lot of work without getting paid.
10. Finished contracts should be signed and dated by both parties and each party should have a copy of the signed and dated final.
11. Stand your ground on the terms you can't live without and be flexible on everything else.  If our Congress has taught us anything, it's that drawing a hard line in the sand on every issue results in no one getting anything they want.  Be flexible and willing to negotiate.
12. Finally, don't be afraid to ask for a written version of your verbal agreement.  Too many people don't do this because they think it's disrespectful or indicates mistrust.  This is not true.  If anything, you'll look more professional for it.

The truth about contracts is that if you know what you want and are willing to put a little time and effort into getting it down on paper, they're not nearly as intimidating as they seem at first.  That said, if you truly don't know what you're doing (I leave it to you to know when that is), or you're just not comfortable drafting an agreement, please please please hire a lawyer to do it for you.

If you're trying to make a living as an artist, then you don't need things to be more difficult... the deck is already stacked heavily against you.  Having a written agreement for each of your sales/hires/commissions/whatevers may create a bit more work up front for you, but I promise you that the one time you need it and you have it, it will save your ass.  And then it will be worth it.

Court to Netflix: "You Don't Got Mail"

Well, barely two weeks have passed since my self-imposed exile from the blog, but I promised that I would I pipe up if something caught my interest, so here I am, piping away!

A few days ago, a three judge panel in Washington D.C. smacked the U.S. Post Office for giving favorable treatment to Netflix.  Gamefly, the  video-game-by-mail service, sued the Post Office claiming that mail order DVDs sent out by Netflix were bypassing the traditional route and being fast-forwarded to customers.  The end result was discrimination against Gamefly and other mail order services by forcing them into slower routes, while making them to pay higher shipping fees than Netflix.

Netflix sure doesn't need this right now.  They've had a rough go of it the past 16 months.  First there was the price hike debacle in September 2011 which saw customers abandoning the service like it was afflicted with syphilis.   Their stocks tanked after less than stellar subscribership in the third quarter this year.  And don't forget the recent spate of outages. Even now with their stock rebounding after scoring a partnership to stream Disney content, Netflix is in a tenuous place because their long-term plan to move from a mail delivery service to an entirely streaming online service is both pricey and technology dependent.  Not to mention that Netflix has to continue negotiating deals with movie studios: high-level sophisticated players who negotiate like mobsters because they know without their content, Netflix dies.  Which means that if Netflix wants to keep streaming content, there's going to be a price hike sometime in the future... probably sooner than later too.  God help Reed Hastings when he has to make that public announcement!  This means that Netflix is going to be leaning on its DVD mail service longer than it expected way back in the halcyon days of August 2011 when Qwikster sounded like a good idea.  So this Gamefly lawsuit is pretty much a kick in the nuggets for Netflix any way you look at it.

But here's my prediction: Netflix isn't going anywhere.  First, mail order or streaming, Netflix still does it better than anyone else and with a wide enough selection of content to make most people think twice about leaving.  Second, Netflix is expanding its business model by creating original content and picking up critical darling Arrested Development (one of my all-time faves) for a 14 episode run, with potential for a fifth season.  Lastly, DVDs are a dead format and everyone knows it.  DVD sales have been steadily declining over the past few years.  I'm a big fan of physical formats like Blu-ray because of the high quality audio-video presentation, but I'll also acknowledge that I'd rather rent through Netflix, Hulu, or Apple TV the vast majority of the time, and I think the American public agrees with me.  Hell, even my mom stopped watching DVDs.  She now watches movies exclusively On Demand.  My mom!!!  The Blu-Ray player I bought her two years ago is the fanciest dust collection device she owns.

Netflix knows the end of the physical format is nigh; their problem is that they got bitten for trying to usher it along sooner than the public was ready.  But that time is here folks.  And Netflix helped lead the way.

Okay, back into exile I go...

The Avengers and Copyright Reform

In honor of the most shoppingest weekend of the year, I'd like to discuss how The Avengers got me thinking about copyright reform.

You see, following the mammoth success of The Avengers this past summer, Marvel Entertainment (owned by Disney) planned to release a six-film box set just in time for the holidays that contained Blu-rays of The Avengers, Iron Man, Iron Man 2, The Incredible Hulk, Thor, and Captain America. The films would arrive in a package that replicated the metal briefcase used in The Avengers to carry the film's MacGuffin, the "tesseract."  Here's what it looked like:

Unfortunately for Marvel, the release of the box set was put on hold when German luggage manufacturer Rimowa GmbH sued for trademark infringement and trademark dilution, alleging that the silver briefcase for the six-movie collection was too similar to one of its products, and that releasing the box set would hurt its brand.  The good news for consumers is that while it won't be ready for your holiday shopping needs, the set WILL be released in April with new packaging and special features.

When I read Rimowa's complaint, I rolled my eyes at their claim of trademark dilution claim (they may have a good case on the infringement claim... but I won't use this space to weigh the merits of that argument).  "Here we go again" I thought.  "Another instance of one giant company wielding their intellectual property as a weapon against another giant company so they can squeeze out a few more pennies."  Then my next thought was "at least it's Disney getting sued and not some poor struggling artist."

As you know, I'm a big supporter of intellectual property protection, especially as it pertains to individual artists and creators.  But when the copyright holder is a multinational corporation, my support for protection becomes less absolute.  I don't like bullies and I especially don't like it when giant corporations use their copyrights* to trample over innovation, even if that innovation means some copyrights get infringed.  And to my surprise, a Republican staffer named Derek Khanna agrees with me, writing a policy paper on copyright reform that recently caused a stir.  In the paper, Khanna argues chiefly that our current system of copyright law actually harms the free market, hurts the consumer, and stifles creativity and innovation.  Khanna further argues that the powers to protect intellectual property granted to Congress in the Constitution were designed not solely to benefit the creator.  Rather, they were created to benefit the public, and creator compensation was just a way to fulfill that need.  FYI, the actual text of the Constitution, Article 1, Section 8 reads that Congress shall have the power:

"To promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries."

Khanna recommends several fixes, most of which I agree with.  Expanding Fair use protections (basically, allowing more people to use copyrighted material for certain purposes without paying for it), lowering statutory damages (current damages can see you paying upwards of $150K for each infringed work.  Khanna argues that it's un-American to charge someone millions of dollars for downloading a few dozen songs), punishing false copyright claims (I've talked about this issue before), and significantly lowering the length of copyright ownership from "life of author + 70 years" to 14 years, renewable every 14 years while the author is alive.  Khanna's paper proved so controversial that 24 hours after publishing it, his Republican bosses removed the paper and issued a letter stating that the paper hadn't been properly vetted.  Which makes sense after all; the major media companies (who are also the biggest copyright holders in the world) are big political donors.

In the case of Rimowa v. Marvel, the stakes aren't very high for the average consumer.  People will get the box set they want eventually and if they can't wait, they can go out and buy the films individually.  Disney is going to be just fine... maybe a few million bucks poorer, but that's about it. The underlying issue here is larger than whether I can go and buy a cardboard case filled with movies.  It even goes beyond how much power our current copyright law grants to companies that can use those copyrights to bully the small artist and innovator.  The issue really boils down to whether companies have the same rights as individuals.  Should a company get the same rights I get under the law?  While Khanna's paper rarely singles out corporations as the biggest profiteers and abusers under our current copyright law, it's difficult to imagine that he wasn't thinking about them directly while writing it.   In one passage, he says that "Current public policy should create a disincentive for companies to continue their copyright indefinitely..."  The whole point of the paper seems to be this: copyright too often is used as a weapon to harm individual creators.  Disincentivize that by making copyright ownership less profitable for the corporate owner.  I wholeheartedly agree.  Actually, I will agree with and support just about any reform that takes the power out of the hands of the corporate copyright owner and gives it back to the individual creator.  Art should belong to the artist.

And if the end result is that I can get my Avengers box set sooner than later, then that will be a welcome side effect.

* For the record, yes I do know the difference between copyright and trademark.  For the purpose of this post, however, I'm treating them as interchangeable because they protect different types of the same thing... intellectual property.

Harry Potter et al v. The Ministry of Magic a.k.a. Why Are There No Safety Regulations In The Harry Potter Universe?

Has anyone other than me noticed the stunning lack of safety regulations present in the Harry Potter universe? I'm a big fan of the films (to my wife's never-ending chagrin, I refuse to read the books for the sole reason that they are not movies), but ever since law school, I have not been able to get over the fact that Potter lives in a world where children are placed in a constant stream of danger. Thanks to the fine programmers at ABC Family, I've had a chance to revisit each Harry Potter film in greater detail and here are just a few samples of the myriad dangers to befall the students at Hogwarts:

1. A system of staircases that move suddenly and without warning (how many students have fallen to their peril because of bad timing?);
2. A giant three-headed dog kept in the castle behind a flimsy wooden door;
3. A competitive game (Quidditch) where children ride on brooms hundreds of feet in the air chasing after balls powerful enough to behead a person;
4. A nearby forest full of beasts such as murderous centaurs, murderous giants, and murderous GIGANTIC SPIDERS;
5. A contest (The Tri-Wizard Tournament) where teenagers are chased by fire-breathing dragons and attacked by violent mer-people in order to win the ugliest trophy I've ever seen;
6. A hateful witch (literally) who comes to school and tortures students by carving words into their skin;

Hell, in Chamber of Secrets, students are actually encouraged to square off against one another in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Now you can argue that the professor, Gilderoy Lockehart, was something of a doofus and quite possibly didn't realize that having children try to kill each other with wands wasn't a good idea, but remember that Severus Snape was also present and by his failure to object, ratified Lockehart's idiocy.

Also, at some point, the school hired a f**king werewolf as a teacher. And this kind of recklessness doesn't stop at Hogwarts... it's all over the magic world. Take the unfortunate case of Seamus Finnigan. He's a peer of Harry who's wand kept malfunctioning and blowing sh*t up in his face. Now maybe we can chalk this up to Seamus' incompetence as a wizard, but I think the blame more appropriately rests at the foot of Garrick Olivander, the man who sells each 1st year his or her wand. As an aged wizard, he should know better, yet he sold a clearly defective wand to this student. Had there been some safety regulations (perhaps a policy about practice wands for students not yet learned in magic), then Seamus might have avoided years of charred skin. If I were a wizard lawyer, I would take Finnigan's case and sue Olivander into an early grave. His actions are at best negligent and at worst criminally reckless.

When you think about it, this seeming lack of regulation really makes no sense. After all, the movies take great pains to show that the magical world has a government with a functioning court/ tribunal system. And throughout the films, characters pay lip service to wizarding law (such as the "no magic under 17" rule for which Harry was unreasonably prosecuted in Order of the Phoenix). So why does there appear to be no measurable safety regulation for children?

So let's do something here. Let's come up with some sample legislation. I'll get the ball rolling:

1. Minors under the age of 13 may only purchase wands with limited magical capabilities.
2. Minors under the age of 17 may not work with dangerous creatures without a consenting adult present.
3. Minors under the age of 15 may not ride a broom.

I'm open to your suggestions to make the Harry Potter universe a safe place for students to learn magic without fearing for their own death.

Lululemon is Literally Suing The Pants Off Calvin Klein: Intellectual Property Upheaval in The Fashion Industry

It will come as a surprise to no one that I don't know thing one about fashion or the fashion industry.  In fact, I recently suggested to my wife that she start a blog called "Things I Make My Husband Wear" that would chronicle her efforts to teach me about the importance of clothing and turn me from someone who looks like  a shiftless farmhand into a professional adult.  Time will tell if she decides to take on this monumental endeavor.

But even I know when something strange is afoot at the Circle K*, and the month of September has seen the rumblings of a shift in the way the fashion industry operates, as designers scramble to protect their work in ways that have historically been off-limits.  A few weeks ago, my friend Lauren sent me this link explaining how popular yoga-pant trafficker Lululemon is suing Calvin Klein for infringing its patent by copying its "Astro" pant design; specifically, the lawsuit alleges that Calvin Klein ripped off the Astro's waistband as well as two other design elements.

Here are the pants in question:

The lawsuit is surprising, since copycatting in the fashion design industry is so generally accepted.  In the fashion world, suing a copycat over patent infringement is uncommon because design patents are so hard to obtain in the first place and even harder to protect.  There are two kinds of patents: Design patents which protect "original and ornamental design" and utility patents which are far more common and protect physical inventions that possess some level of usefulness. [Copyright law doesn't apply here since copyright protects forms of expression, whereas patent law protects items that are functional.]  So why are design patents so hard to get in the fashion world?  According to attorney Adrian Pruetz, "[i]t's very hard to come up with something that's new and that hasn't just been part of the clothing vernacular."  After all, everyone wear some variation of pants, shirts, and shoes, and finding something unique is difficult because the history of clothing design extends back for over a thousand years.

The copycatting has gotten so out of control that NY Senator Chuck Schumer sponsored a bill** that would provide some intellectual property protections for designers.  The bill, which just passed out of the Senate Judiciary Committee last week, would aim to protect fashion designs that are unique, distinguishable, non-trivial, and non-utilitarian.  Schumer, of course, has some selfish reasons for sponsoring this bill: New York is considered by many to be the nation's fashion capital, employing over 200,000 people in the industry, so this bill is as much about protecting jobs as it is about protecting patentable innovation.

Enough of the news, here's my take: I'm all for the Schumer bill and any reasonable patent protections for fashion designers in general.  A running theme in this blog is my support for protecting the work of artists, and I see no reason to deviate from that now.  But some people have argued that design patents are more trouble than they're worth and should be limited or even abolished.  Ilse Metchek, President of the California Fashion Association, says "[t]his whole notion that you'd grant a patent to anyone who adds a seam or two to a waistband is quite problematic. It's only going to create more litigation, and that's hardly something the fashion industry needs more of."  I can see her concern.  Clothes are a necessity of life and if you permit designers to repeatedly sue other designers for infringement, you affect not just other fashion houses, but literally everyone.  Clothes would become much more expensive and only the companies who could afford to withstand lawsuits would survive.  That would stifle artistic expression and innovation.  Bad medicine indeed.

Which is why the Schumer bill is a good start: its patent protections are very limited and would only extend to designs that are extremely unique and distinguishable.  Furthermore, the protection would only last for three years from the date of publication, would provide certain liability limitations (such as no liability for someone who copies a design for home use only), and would force plaintiffs to plead detailed facts in their initial complaints in order to limit frivolous lawsuits.  Designs that predate the bill's enactment would not be eligible for protection and would thus be public domain.  The entire bill smacks of reasonableness, which frankly means that everyone will hate it.  But the bill is designed around an industry that is built on copying others and it recognizes that reality.  In my opinion, it's a good way to let people protect their work, while still allowing room for copying designs not unique enough for protection.

As for the Lululemon/ Calvin Klein row, I won't debate the merits of the case here since I haven't seen the court documents. I will say that Lululemon is clearly making a stand here against Calvin Klein, Gap, and any other retail chain that threatens its business. I have no dog in this fight, but there are plenty in the fashion industry that do.  It should be interesting to see what happens.

* Sixty quatloos to the person who gets this reference.  Please state your answer in the comments section below.

** Thank you to my lovely wife for pointing out the existence of this bill!