Mike Masnick’s line-by-line reply:  http://www.techdirt.com/articles/20120208/01453517694/riaa-totally-out-touch-lashes-out-google-wikipedia-everyone-who-protested-sopapipa.shtml

Hat tip to Lauren Gelman.

Thank you to Marvin for an excellent article to read and discuss, and thank you Concurring Opinions for providing a public forum for our discussion.

In the article, the critical approach that Marvin takes to challenge the “standard” model of the First Amendment is really interesting. He claims that the standard model of the First Amendment focuses on preserving speakers’ freedom by restricting government action and leaves any affirmative obligations for government to sustain open public spaces to a patchwork of exceptions lacking any coherent theory or principles. A significant consequence of this model is that open public spaces for speech—I want to substitute “infrastructure” for “spaces”–are marginalized and taken for granted. My forthcoming book—Infrastructure: The Social Value of Shared Resources–explains why such marginalization occurs in this and various other contexts and develops a theory to support the exceptions. But I’ll leave those thoughts aside for now and perhaps explore them in another post. And I’ll leave it to the First Amendment scholars to debate Marvin’s claim about what is the standard model for the First Amendment.

Instead, I would like to point out how a similar (maybe the same) problem can be seen in the Supreme Court’s most recent copyright opinion. In Golan v. Holder , Justice Ginsburg marginalizes the public domain in a startling fashion. Since it is a copyright case, the “model” is flipped around: government is empowered to grant exclusive rights (and restrict some speakers’ freedom) and any restrictions on the government’s power to do so is limited to narrow exceptions, i.e., the idea-expression distinction and fair use. A central argument in the case was that the public domain itself is another restriction. The public domain is not expressly mentioned in the IP Clause of the Constitution, but arguably, it is implicit throughout (Progress in Science and the Useful Arts, Limited Times). Besides, the public domain is inescapably part of the reality that we stand on the shoulders of generations of giants. Most copyright scholars believed that Congress could not grant copyright to works in the public domain (and probably thought that the issue raised in the case – involving restoration for foreign works that had not been granted copyright protection in the U.S — presented an exceptional situation that might be dealt with as such). But the Court declined to rule narrowly and firmly rejected the argument that “the Constitution renders the public domain largely untouchable by Congress.” In the end, Congress appears to have incredibly broad latitude to exercise its power, limited only by the need to preserve the “traditional contours.”

Of course, it is much more troublesome that the Supreme Court (rather than scholars interpreting Supreme Court cases) has adopted a flawed conceptual model that marginalizes basic public infrastructure. We’re stuck with it.

In an interview with Texas Monthly, Robert Earl Keen discussed the release of his new album, which contains a song called “The Road Goes On and On.”  Apparently, the melody in Toby Keith’s song “Bullets in the Gun” sounds remarkably like Robert Earl Keen’s well-known song “The Road Goes On Forever.”  But instead of suing Keith, Robert Earl Keen decided to approach the situation differently: “[I]nstead of getting really ugly about things—I don’t really believe in lawsuits or threats—I took the Alexander Pope road and answered this guy in song.”

The song is called “The Road Goes On and On.”  While it doesn’t name Toby Keith explicitly, Keen acknowledges that the song is about him, and the song describes Keith in a variety of ways, including, as a “goldilocks . . . all duded up in [his] Cowboy Crocs singing the same old song.”  (Does Keen mean crocodile-skin boots, or the popular Crocs-brand shoes?  I find the latter interpretation much funnier, and I did see multiple, if random, internet references to Toby Keith wearing Crocs…)  Some of the lyrics include:

I don’t care what you say

I never liked you anyway

Wouldn’t give you the time of day

If I had the time to spend

You’re malicious and downright cruel

Superstitious, so uncool

Best wishes, you loudmouthed fool

I hope I never see you again

You’re a regular jack in the box

In your clown suit and your goldilocks

The original liar’s paradox (you’ll have to Google that)

How in the hell do you think you’ll make it

When the real test comes and you just can’t fake it

Your sycophants say they can’t take it and leave you lyin’ flat

Interesting alternative to the C&D.  Now we can wait and see if Google writes a song about how Robert Earl Keen shouldn’t use “Google” as a verb…

Case Western Reserve’s Journal of Law, Technology & the Internet is searching for a final article to publish in its spring edition. Any scholarly work related to cyber law, intellectual property law or the intersection of technology and the law will be considered. This is a great opportunity to see your research in print and online by the end of the spring semester. The Journal of Law, Technology & the Internet is a recognized student journal at Case Western Reserve University School of Law located in Cleveland, Ohio. Please forward all submissions, along with a CV or cover letter, to the attention of:

dtc22@case.edu | (734) 812-7373

[T]he key issue is to think about why we choose novelty over immersion. Why do we choose convenience—the speed of consumption—over the sensory qualities of a consumption experience?

What [Simon] Reynolds dubs retromania seems a paradoxical way for capital to proceed to secure ideological dominance, but it makes a diabolical sort of sense: get novelty and innovation on the cheap by recycling the ready-at-hand past. This has the added bonus of fusing the new with the familiar, so consumers can appease two contradictory longings simultaneously. Nostalgia and novelty fuse in a new kind of cultural artifact, which Reynolds spends a lot of time cataloging: stuff like I Love the ___’s, reunion tours, bands playing their old albums in sequence, Web 2.0 music like Flying Lotus, Girl Talk, etc.

The fusion of “new and the familiar” also reminds me of the ideas of “flocking and differentiation” in the Hemphill/Suk article on fashion. Rather than being epiphenomenal, one more sad aspect of status anxiety, fashion to Hemphill and Suk is an authentic expression of a broader dialectic of individual self-creation: to both conform to social norms and to distinguish oneself from them. Christening these impulses “flocking” and “differentiation” (respectively), Hemphill and Suk see fashion as not merely an economic phenomenon, but a cultural one, reflecting deep-seated human needs. But a rapid and fruitless cycling between bedazzlement and boredom could just as accurately characterize fashion trends as an ennobling narrative about “flocking” and “differentiation.”

Who knows whether fashion, or the fused nostalgia/novelty Horning describes, is a component of authentic self-expression, or a form of false consciousness? As Denis Charles Philips explains, “many rival narratives can be devised by an individual to account for a given action, just as, in natural sciences, many rival hypotheses can be invented to account for any finite body of data.” The law of culture can be vexing in part because we can disagree so profoundly about the right narrative “frame” for the phenomena we encounter.

It’s tempting to simply refuse to give an account of value, or even intention, in some circumstances. When we move from processes of appreciation to those of creation, that’s an increasingly popular strategy. Richard Prince appeared to retreat to the realm of the non-rational at a recent deposition in a celebrated copyright case:

In a deposition in the case that was recently published as part of an unlikely art book by the writer and director Greg Allen, lawyers for [plaintiff] Mr. Cariou follow [defendant] Mr. Prince deep into the strange and often trackless territory of artistic intention. About as close as they get to pinning him down is that he wanted to use the borrowed pictures to explore his fascination with the painting of Willem de Kooning and also thought of his collages and paintings as part of an idea for a movie about a post-apocalyptic world in which Rastafarians, famous literary lesbians and others commandeer hotels on St. Bart’s.

“So what are four lesbians from the early 20th century doing on St. Bart’s in, now, when there’s a nuclear war, like why are they there?” a lawyer asked Mr. Prince, who responded: “Your guess is as good as mine. That’s what I do, I make things up.” At another point in the transcript of the deposition, a lawyer asked, “What is the message?” Mr. Prince replied, “The message is to make great art that makes people feel good.”

Maybe Prince also answers Horning’s initial question, “why we choose novelty over immersion”? Or perhaps we should turn to Sven Birkerts, who observed, in The Gutenberg Elegies, readers “awed and intimidated by the availability of texts, faced with the all but impossible task of discriminating among them, [tending] to move across surfaces, skimming, hastening from one site to the next without allowing the words to resonate inwardly.”

Information overload has an aesthetics; only time will tell if it’s deep or shallow. While that debate rages on, Horning grounds us in the material foundations of an oppositional stance:

Value now is captured by harnessing the filtering that consumers perform for one another, monitoring the lateral cultural chatter and trying to time the implied markets. This is another aspect of the retromania phenomenon. Amateur bricoleurs sort through the digitized detritus of the past (Danny Kirwan solo albums, Falco, etc.), trying to make cultural capital out of it. How one feels about the question of resistance probably depends on how successful one is at that task.

The lords of the memes (or, in Jaron Lanier’s terms, lords of the clouds) aren’t complaining, and support a fair number of projects designed to defend the status quo. But we also need to think about the cultural consequences of a class of newly empowered sorters, filterers, and curators centrifugally pursuing their bliss. A literature criticizing the narcissism of the “daily me” has already done that for politics and journalism. Can a similar project work in culture, without being abrasive, elitist, or sectarian? Spiritual traditions attempt to identify the enduring truths, forms of beauty, and institutions of justice that contribute to human flourishing. Do they have a place in the normative evaluation of culture that lies a bit beneath the surface of legal cases like Prince’s? Could a new Adorno enliven the rights/utility literature in this area, which seems to have hit a dead end? Remix culture owes a great deal to postmodernism. Perhaps a critique of it will need to rely on both religious thought’s appreciation of tradition and critical theory’s willingness to interrogate enlightenment accounts of autonomy.

Image credit: Siebren Versteeg and whatever random viewer caused those images to appear on the touchscreens.

I wasn’t necessarily surprised at the number of inaccuracies in the lecture on copyright law.  Obviously, this is a very difficult subject to get across to people of various educational backgrounds and publishing experience.

But one suggestion made by an instructor really stood out for me because it resonates with some questions I have been pondering in recent articles about the role of strict liability in copyright law and the limitations of the fair use defense.  The instructor listed the four fair use factors from section 107, noted that they were very difficult to apply in practice and that each situation is different, and that her best advice to give to writers hoping to avoid copyright infringement claims when borrowing or quoting from the work of others is that if you feel like you’re doing something wrong in your writing, then you probably are.

So that wasn’t a legal opinion and was likely an off-the-cuff comment, but I wonder if it gets at something deeper.  Maybe subjective intentions really should play a greater role in copyright law than they currently do.  In a couple of recent articles, I have suggested moving away from strict liability towards a mens rea standard for copyright infringement at least in certain contexts (unauthorized noncommercial fan video mashups and blogs for example).  Perhaps bringing in a sense of ‘right and wrong’ does make sense, given the impossibility of explaining the contours of fair use to new and emerging writers and artists many of whom are experimenting with new forms and genres, and not making any money from others’ proprietary works.  In fact, much of what is currently licensed from copyright holders should probably be regarded as fair use in any event, but it’s often easier to pay a license fee than to argue about it in court.  Would a more ’subjective’ system help us or cause us greater problems?

This is probably the biggest change that’s affected the gaming business over the last few years. It’s not just that we have digital distribution to our customers. It’s that we have this incredible two-way connection that we’ve never had before with our customers.
We’ve gone from a situation where we dream up a game, we spend three years making it, we put it in a box, we put it out in stores, we hope it sells, to a situation that’s incredibly more fluid and dynamic, where we’re constantly modifying the game with the participation of the customers themselves

The comments on piracy comport with insights from other industries:

One thing that we have learned is that piracy is not a pricing issue. It’s a service issue. The easiest way to stop piracy is not by putting antipiracy technology to work. It’s by giving those people a service that’s better than what they’re receiving from the pirates. For example, Russia. You say, oh, we’re going to enter Russia, people say, you’re doomed, they’ll pirate everything in Russia. Russia now outside of Germany is our largest continental European market. … the people who are telling you that Russians pirate everything are the people who wait six months to localize their product into Russia. … So that, as far as we’re concerned, is asked and answered. It doesn’t take much in terms of providing a better service to make pirates a non-issue.

The information on pricing is really cool. “[W]e varied the price of one of our products. We have Steam so we can watch user behavior in real time. That gives us a useful tool for making experiments which you can’t really do through a lot of other distribution mechanisms. What we saw was that pricing was perfectly elastic. In other words, our gross revenue would remain constant. We thought, hooray, we understand this really well. There’s no way to use price to increase or decrease the size of your business.”

Yet he goes on to describe how sales such as a 75% price reduction lead to a “gross revenue increased by a factor of 40.” They tested against a product they did not own and saw similar results. Then they tested free. It turns out free to play and and free work differently. His thought is that the user base matters because they value the products differently including “what the statement that something is free to play implies about the future value of the experience that they’re going to have.”

Furthermore, conversion rates shift too. Free to play often “see[s] about a 2 to 3 percent conversion rate of the people in their audience who actually buy something, and then with Team Fortress 2, which looks more like Arkham Asylum in terms of the user profile and the content, we see about a 20 to 30 percent conversion rate of people who are playing those games who buy something.”

What do all these tests mean? As Newell said, it’s unclear. That is why I could see some rather cool studies being done for this emerging area.

For example as the NY Times puts it:

What has gone wrong? Plenty, say studio distribution executives, who point to competition for leisure dollars, particularly among financially pressed young people (the movie industry’s most coveted demographic); too many family movies; and the continued erosion of star power.

One more thing: “You have to go back and look at the content,” said Dan Fellman, president of domestic distribution for Warner Brothers. “Good movies always rise to the occasion. Bad ones, not so much.”

In the immortal words of Keanu Reeves, “Whoa.” Studios admitting that they compete for leisure dollars? Acknowledgement that star power is not that powerful? Furthermore, the article notes that consumers use social media and the Internet to sort rubbish copycat films from good ones” Per the Times, Phil Contrino, editor of BoxOffice.com, offers, “Because they have less disposable income and because they are more plugged in to audience reaction on Facebook and Twitter, the teenage audience is becoming picky,” he added. “That’s a nightmare for studios that are used to pushing lowest-common-denominator films.” Now let’s throw in video games. Call of Duty did $400 million dollars in its first day of sales.

In sum, the youth audience does not have huge amounts to spend and if choosing between a film that seems unoriginal and a video game, the video game often wins. And despite some odd spin about films aimed at older audiences doing well, the article also explains star vehicles aimed at older audiences failed which seems to go back to make a good movie and people are more likely to see it in the theater.

Will sequels and re-releases in 3D draw me to the theater? Yes (damn you Lucas and your 3d Star Wars ploy!)!! But would it help if there were really good new stories? Heck yeah!

For an odd closing, I offer that economists and academics in law could do well to study the way leisure dollars are spent, the demographics of the content industries, and way that some digital industries thrive while others claim to flounder. Then again, maybe nobody knows anything.

Except, of course, that it wasn’t a Louis Vuitton bag – it was a knockoff. And that can create problems. After all, the use is no longer nominative, and no longer a fair description. Now there is a chance of consumer confusion – people might think the knockoff is a Louis Vuitton and be fooled into thinking that the sub-par stitching (so clearly visible on the screen – yeah right) is Louis Vuitton’s and of poor quality. Trademark people call this “post-sale confusion,” like the kind that comes when you wear a $10 Rolexxx. You weren’t fooled, but others might be fooled.

There’s one problem with the argument – under the Lanham Act, Section 43(a), the unlawful behavior must use the mark in connection with goods and services. That is, a trademark use. Thus, we hold the seller of the Rolexxx liable, but not the wearer, because the wearer is not making a trademark use – they are not using it in connection with goods and services.

That, I suspect, won’t stop Louis Vuitton (or sadly, the courts) here. I suspect that the finding will be that the movie is a “good or service” and that use of the name “Louis Vuitton” will be “in connection” with the movie, and confusing, and thus create liability. I can’t imagine this is what the authors of the Lanham Act had in mind. Nevertheless, courts have accepted survey evidence that credits consumers who think that the movie must have gotten a sponsorship deal with Louis Vuitton, even if they did not. In other words, courts are willing to find a trademark use just because consumers think there was one, even if there wasn’t.

So, this is another one of those “don’t do it” cases. I’m all for pushing the envelope of non-trademark use by having studios refuse to pay just for the right to utter the name of a famous mark. But it is a bad idea indeed to then use a knockoff in the movie. 

Nearly two years ago, I received an email from the Director of Fordham’s Center for Law and Information Policy, stating that the name of our center infringed the rights of Fordham.  I responded that our center, like many others at law schools across the nation*, uses “center” and “law” in its descriptive title, and then refers to the subject matter of the center—in our case, “intellectual property” (in their case, “information policy”).  I assured him that we always use our school’s name in any materials referencing the center.  The trademark professor in me wanted to write a long missive about both trademark law and policy.  The human being in me wanted to make a goofy yet heartfelt reference and say, “Can’t we all just get along?”  Instead, I closed by saying, essentially, that I think what they are doing is great, and I think what we are doing is great, and what law schools across the country are doing by creating enhanced learning opportunities for students in centers of research and dialogue and policy is great.  I also extended an invitation for him to come visit sometime and see the kinds of things we do at Texas Wesleyan.

(I also told him that we do have a logo, which uses the acronym of the center with the words “Center for Law and Intellectual Property” and our Texas Wesleyan house mark, and I assured him that we always use the name of the school in every piece of material we send about the center, as we have a strong interest in identifying ourselves as a Texas Wesleyan initiative.)

I did not hear from him again.  However, after our email exchange, Fordham revamped the webpage for its center and applied for federal registration of their acronym CLIP for a long list of goods and services (and using the phrase “intellectual property” four times).  That registration issued at the end of October, and the President of Texas Wesleyan has now received a cease and desist letter stating that not only any use of the acronym CLIP but the very name of our center infringes the registered and common law rights of Fordham.

The trademark professor in me wants to write a treatise about trademark law and policy.  The human in me wants to make a goofy yet heartfelt reference and say, “Really?!?”

In this current climate, when budgets are tight and the structure and content of legal education is something we are all debating passionately, when we are all working as hard as we can to provide innovative and dynamic educational opportunities for our students, I can’t help but wonder whether our collective time and resources could be better spent on other things.  On the other hand, in a lemonade-from-lemons sense, my trademark practice students are getting to see the real-world dynamics of practice.  The fact is:  As a university, we are not about to spend our students’ tuition money in this climate defending ourselves in an out-of-state trademark lawsuit, even if we think we are right, even if we think we would win, even if I suspect the best answer on the exam would be “no likelihood of confusion.”

In the end, if we can’t call our center by its descriptive function, perhaps we will go the trademark route.  I always tell my students that FLURM would be an excellent mark, because it is a coined and unattractive word.  Perhaps we’ll change our name from the Center for Law and Intellectual Property to FLURM.  Come to Texas Wesleyan School of Law, and be a part of THE CENTER OF FLURM!  At least then, no one will be confused.

* center such as, eg, the Center for Intellectual Property Law (John Marshall Law School), the Intellectual Property Law Center (Drake Law School), the Center for Intellectual Property Law and Markets (University of San Diego), the Center for Intellectual Property (University of Maryland), the Intellectual Property Center (University of Akron), or the Center for Law and Intellectual Property (Thomas Jefferson School of Law), the Center for Intellectual Property Research (Indiana University Maurer School of Law), to name a few.