ISHTIP at Penn, Part 5

Session 3 | Marianne Dahlén (Uppsala University, Sweden), Moderator
 
Design and Copyright: An Open Question?
Stina Teilmann-Lock (University of Southern Denmark)
Commentator | Jessica Silbey (Northeastern University)
 
Openness in the law for fair followers?  Design in law in Denmark from 1908: fair followers can copy, despite existence of copyright protection—a balance b/t copying to develop and proliferate design and control/remuneration for designers.  Balance is very hard to achieve; pendulum swings between 1908 and 1960 due to categorical shifts in legal reasoning.  Rely on foundational assumptions about art, purposes of ©, and people © is supposed to benefit.
 
One approach: deny © to industrial design of any kind.  Platonic idea of art. Other trend is protect original ornamentation wherever found, but make it thin/identical copying only. Similar trend in US/Bleistein’s anti-discrimination principle.  Danish SCt, 1908, ruled that coffee pot was uncopyrightable—it was meant to proliferate in the market despite its decorations/artistic qualities.  It had a prototype. 
 
Modernist art: fashion and painting, font and furniture, art and politics were all linked. When Demnark amends copyright act in 1908 to cover prototypes for industrial art and handicrafts, whether or not reproduction takes place w/purely artistic purpose or industrial purpose/practical use: a kind of leveling, bringing more artists under the copyright tent. Similar to US: the copy is an individual reaction to something in nature; virtually any personal reaction will be copyrightable. Also comports w/political movements of modernism/industrial capitalism. 
 
Kantian influence over Danish © was strong and resisted this impulse. Talent or genius, used to reinforce hierarchy of fine art.  Not clear whether paper celebrates this exclusion, though calls it a chance for “openness.” Clearly based on an elitism/certain objects are only marginally protected, while jewelry and other ornamental features were protected.
 
Bauhaus chairs from 1930s: experts found them worthy of protection, but Danish courts didn’t—unique features came from style/particular materials and thus not artistic worthy of protection.  Functionalist furniture + rhetoric of modernist movement made applied art even more problematic in © terms—the binary of fine art/craft is based on this fiction of individuality/common practice also being a binary.  Mythology of originality/genius that denies/suppresses evolutionary practices while simultaneously denying to everyday creators the benefit of legal protection.
 
So broadening the categories of protection to add applied art in 1961 didn’t flatten the hierarchy.  What does this mean for industrial designs?  Simple/common forms could be copyrighted when they existed in harmonious unity, selected by the designer.  Where then is the openness? Disappearance of shared community, mutual following. Savior of openness in Denmark isn’t an antidote to romance of individuality, but rather a doctrine of thin copyright.  Low originality requirement must have as its concomitant a narrow scope of protection.  But then does that perpetuate hierarchy of copyright genres?
 
Should always ask who benefits from regimes and where the harm is.  Openness allowed: benefits of IP equality/leveling down extend beyond traditional authorship to audiences and fair followers.  Progress comes through copying; fair followers need as much openness as possible.  Category of design generally is a problem across IP disciplines.  Whether design is protected in © is also imported into TM and patent. It is a special category in almost every statutory IP regime and its specialness is confusing—a sui generis category w/o justification where there is so much overlap.
 
Teilmann-Lock: Double status of design comes from its basis in engineering as well. We mean different things when we say design—technical and artistic. See it too in the Berne Convention, where it’s left to individual nations to deal.  Conceptions of design have been very different across time/place.  Actors w/the most to say in defining design in Denmark have been graduates of Academy of Fine Arts—furniture architects, a very loaded term in Danish b/c its connotation is a particular generation of designers who made Danish Modern design globally known.
 
Ornament is a naughty word in the design world, which is trained that form follows function.  It means bad taste. Illusion that object can be stripped down to its function. 
 
Farley: in terms of history, Danish design’s heyday was post WWII to late 1960s.  Change in law of 1961, if consequential, comes at an interesting time.  Is there a consequence for design?  Danish courts became good at seeing the art in functional design; not all courts did.  American/individualistic approach—we don’t ask, can I see art in that chair? We say instead: what were the alternative designs? Were artistic choices made?  Danish ideal: reduce to its essence; that would take the US choice approach off the table.  Danish court says artistic design is “naturally” motivated where US court would see that as a reason not to grant protection. When the Q is alternatives, there are almost always alternatives; but if ct is forced to assess art, it may deny protection from fear of having to make artistic judgments.
 
A: Court-appointed experts play a role in the Danish cases.  Experts had managed to persuade courts of their understanding of aesthetics.  Almost lecturing the courts for the first half of the century about modernist aesthetics and finally courts took it in.  (Similar thing arguably w/appropriation art and the last 50 years of fair use in the US courts.) 
Danish designers always have their names on products: a French press is called a Bonum (sp?) because of the name of the designer.  A TM too, of course.
 
Challenging The Black Box: On the Accountability of Algorithmic Law Enforcement
Maayan Perel and Niva Elkin-Koren (University of Haifa)
Commentator | Maria Lillà Montagnani (Bocconi University, Italy)
 
Algorithmic © enforcement by online intermediaries. How/are they held accountable for what they do?  Framework against which we can judge them.  Tech has always assisted legal enforcement; not aware of it most of the time.  Speeding cameras.  In traditional enforcement situations, decisionmakers make a decision and the tech just helps implement it.  But online, private entities translate the law itself into an algorithm.  Functions that were actually discrete are now carried out by the same entity: law enforcement & adjudication.  And the algorithm is unknown, black box. We can’t know if the law is actually being complied with, esp. in situations of fair use. Dangerous effects on public sphere.
 
Proposal: public scrutiny, not judicial scrutiny.  (Could in the alternative have an ASCAP-style antitrust control.)  How to distinguish from content management decisions made by intermediaries as part of their business operations?  Does the public have a sufficient opportunity to challenge decisions? Can they correct erroneous decisions? 
 
Proxies for this: public literacy through transparency.  Due process—ability to challenge decision/have a voice.  Public oversight: ability to contest removal/restore content.
 
Regulated algorithmic © enforcement, as distinguished from unregulated.  The DMCA doesn’t achieve these goals.  DMCA: uploader is not informed when link is removed.  Counternotice doesn’t preserve due process b/c the content is immediately removed: an extrajudicial TRO based only on © owner’s allegations. If this is true of statutory © enforcement, it’s much worse with completely unregulated/private/voluntary regimes—e.g., filtering that prevents publication in the first place—no transparency; no notice; no due process; no counternotice.
 
Google: ex post and ex ante measures, filtering as a business model. Enables © owners to monetize other parties’ uploading. But that doesn’t meet the framework for judging accountability.
 
Barriers to oversight: Technical barriers linked to nontransparent algorithmic mechanisms as such.  Legal barriers: bars on reverse engineering, research: anticircumvention laws; requirement that you aver ownership in good faith (so you can’t test the operation of the system); user-generated barriers b/c users tend not to send the counternotices b/c the wording of a notice is so scary.
 
We know that these systems don’t work from an accountability perspective.  Public oversight would be better than nothing, but why not change the approach: if © and tech don’t work together, start from scratch, and think of something that works.  Doesn’t make sense to try to make the tech fit ©; make © that fits tech, like privacy by design.  More collaborative approach b/t regulators and intermediaries.
 
Elkin-Koren: purpose was to map issues surrounding algorithmic enforcement, and offer theoretical framework for thinking about it. Not necessarily providing ready-made solutions. Context of a larger effort on algorithmic enforcement. We have data for 3 years about enforcement by algorithm and enforcement in court—Israel is a small environment that allows a population study.  Software for example operates only by notice and takedown, not in court; other types of works are in court and not by takedown.  Most interesting finding: algorithmic enforcement is 7000-8000 notices compared to 100 lawsuits over the same 6 months. We are also looking at the notices.  50% of notices are actually related to the right to be forgotten, though filed under DMCA.  Google’s Transparency Report doesn’t give this info—requires a lot of analysis.  History can help understand where we are.
 
Perel: Empirical study that spurred this paper: we tried to learn systematically about how online platforms in Israel enforce ©; whether they verify rights claims; whether they correctly remove only infringing content. Tried to upload different materials, some clearly noninfringing and some clearly infringing (like an episode of House), and some fair use (baby dancing in Lenz-style video).  Recorded results of sending takedown notice.  Algorithmic enforcement is chaotic in Israel: most platforms did nothing to verify rights; some took down noninfringing content and some didn’t take down infringing content. Couldn’t do this experiment in the US b/c of the DMCA legal barriers (anticircumvention and oath requirement in takedown; CFAA). But anecdotal evidence of same errors in the US.
 
Elkin-Koren: skeptical both about privacy by design and © by design: doesn’t help us avoid the challenge. Don’t give priority to people who design the wires. The community should decide, using an appropriate decisionmaking process. Legislators would have difficulty designing the system too.  Challenge: how to design legal interventions that would be more appropriate for this dynamic environment. We could set standards, but those are problematic as well—can create distortions.  We are dealing with continuously changing tech.  Ongoing legal intervention is therefore required.  Platform behavior is constantly changing.  Some of our data we’ve shown to Google; they had no clue.
 
RT: I’m going to do the lawyer thing and ask for specific solutions.  So frustrating; we’ve been saying these systems don’t work for years and now, instead of any proposals for improvement, from © owners we get the Frank Luntz-style phrase “notice and staydown” as their new euphemism for filtering.  What if anything is the most effective way of making these concerns persuasive to non-IP scholars?  Multistakeholder in my experience means: we are going to wear you down with procedure and time, b/c you aren’t getting paid by the hour to represent the public interest.  Experience of recentDMCA best practices statement “multistakeholder process” hosted by PTO/NTIA: most anodyne results possible (only anodyne results were possible).  Multistakeholder process only works where there is ground for compromise: what is that ground?
 
Elkin-Koren: Multistakeholder regimes are not what we’re trying to advocate—there are indeed many problems.  © is just a test case for online disputes/algorithms.  Maybe some solutions can be achieved more broadly across regimes.
 
Q: FB algorithms that vote down stories that don’t help FB financially—serve no purpose other than as a mask for unaccountable power/to encourage brands to pay FB for access.  Similar issues.
 
Q: YT’s US terms of use don’t cover reverse engineering of takedown algorithm, but Israeli terms of use specifically say you agree not to interfere w/© security or inspection mechanism. Another type of legal barrier. Difference b/t jurisdictions is interesting.  User-generated barriers: has been approached by musicians that received takedowns after trying to monetize their channels.  They are very scared.  If you counternotify on grounds of fair use; the algorithm shuts down; maybe that’s another way to challenge (this is not universally true! I know people whose fair use counternotifications have simply been ignored).
 
Jaszi: at least two black boxes. One is the algorithm. Another Q is why the counternotice provisions are so dramatically underutilized.  You categorize some possibilities in the paper: fear, risk of exposure, simple lack of information, lack of solidarity (people feel like exposed isolates rather than part of a group), indifference (it was one of many videos; it’s already up on other platforms). There is a practical point of intervention: we need information about why people don’t counternotify; we have wonderful hypotheses but need real empirical work. If enough made use of it would throw system into disarray.
 
Perel: it’s impossible to send 1 million counternotices a day.
 
Jaszi: but why are we sure that resistance would require numerical proportion?  1000 might be enough.
 
Elkin-Koren: there is no one you can deal with if you have a FB problem in Israel.
 
Q: responses to EU consultation on ©: a lot of responses from intermediaries on increasing responsibility for blocking infringing content. Adopted discourse of economic transaction costs—burdensome introduction of new requirements.  Intermediaries are reticent to handle interactions w/public. Why won’t intermediaries reject transparency on grounds of transaction/operating costs?
 
Q: © as test case for other areas of law—surveillance machinery is the same.
 
Elkin-Koren: transparency is insufficient; comes with costs. I wouldn’t require more reports/more information: intermediaries should allow their systems to be more transparent, open to inspection/monitoring by outsiders as we are being monitored by them. Not necessarily the same type of cost.  Maybe the reason © disputes turned into political disputes is the fact that © enforcement infrastructure is the infrastructure for other types of surveillance and control.  When you want to remove a documentary on rape in India, you convince BBC to file a takedown.  That was the only way to remove it.  It’s not b/c © fits but b/c © is perceived as neutral.
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ISHTIP at Penn, part 4

Session 2 | Dina Leytes (Griesing Law, LLC), Moderator
 
Lord Eldon, Lord Byron, and the Public Domain
Gary Dyer (Cleveland State University)
Commentator | Simon Stern (University of Toronto)
 
Byron’s strategies to deal with Eldon’s doctrine that
created a no man’s land b/t criminality and property if works were potentially
seditiously libellous or obscene; purported to find in an earlier decision a
doctrine that an author could have no remedy if the policy of the law
prohibited his work from being property. Injunctions should issue only when the
P could clearly establish a legal right. 
Eldon’s paradox: exacerbates the effect it’s created to prevent: (1) no
property in what’s injurious; (2) destroying ability to profit would discourage
authors from creating—but that encourages circulation. Precisely b/c applies to
ambiguous circumstances, a publication might not qualify for injunction while
simultaneously not being obscene or libellous. A legal ruling that a work was
not obscene or libellous should mean that a court of equity should grant a
remedy; a ruling that a work was
should also lead to proceedings against pirate editions. But most works weren’t
ever subject to a legal proceeding—simply existed under a shadow.  Pirate editions could persist on the ground
that it was too shady for protection but not shady enough to get the author
thrown in jail.
 
Byron adopted some self-censoring measures to enjoy this,
but not a lot; he wasn’t dissuaded from engaging in libertine speech, and as a
result his works circulated further than they otherwise would have. One
strategy: authorized cheaper editions that facilitated sales though didn’t
undermine pirates entirely.  Byron became
one of the first truly national authors to be widely read as soon as his works
were published.  Reduced Byron’s own
profits.  If Eldon’s doctrine reflects
rational choice theory about discouraging authors’ investment in smaller-profit
endeavors, then Eldon was wrong/would have done well to read Kahneman &
Tversky on bounded rationality or Silbey on actual motivations of authors.
 
One way to read the paper is as contribution to literature
on the logic of incentives. Instead of altering his text to receive protection,
Byron did other things and accepted lower profits. Also casts doubt on the
endowment effect here: once an author has made a certain amount from a work,
that could serve as anchor/benchmark; here Byron accepted less for nonpecuniary
goals. Value of first mover advantage: Byron profited as much as he did b/c
simply beating pirates into print was worth a significant amount for those
willing to sell low.  Compare Robert Spoo’s
discussion of courtesy of trade among 19th c. US publishers, who
also recognized value of first mover advantage in ability to achieve leading
position in selling a particular title.
 
Case that provided the motive for Eldon’s doctrine lacked
the precedential force Eldon wanted to give it, even if it hadn’t been dictum;
could Eldon have achieved the same result using the doctrine of unclean
hands?  At least more familiar/plausible
doctrinal ground. Resort instead to such an improbable precedent, interpreted
in capricious manner, might signal his disdain for the writings in
question.  Exercise of legal imagination
responding to the authors’ imagination. Contemporaries criticized the poor
logic; maybe the poor logic was part of its meaning—more about denying the
legitimacy of the author’s position. Maybe he didn’t anticipate the anomalous
status of not-property and not-illegal, but that results still makes sense
given the shaky foundation of the doctrine.
 
Paper also highlights the fuzzy contours of the public
domain which can be changed both by practice and legal doctrine.  Public domain was much broader than it is
today in a variety of ways (nonliteral copying); risk-averse conduct of
publishers who insist on permissions for what is fair use. Publishers can
shrink or expand the practical public domain. 
In Byron’s case, that happened as various actors responded—Byron removed
just enough criticism of the gov’t to make pirates unsure; pirates argued that
the work was corrupt but hoped that it wouldn’t actually be deemed illegal.  London booksellers likewise studiously avoided
common law courts that had the authority to determine that common-law copyright
was property forever; repeated the claim only in equity courts where chancellor
might be willing to indulge the premise and grant injunctions. Injunction is
probabalistic device reflecting chancellor’s assumptions about the law, not the
law.  Procedural device: a practice of
hypothesis and imagination—determined the regulation of these imaginative
works.
 
Dyer: Comparatively speaking, Byron didn’t modify his
writings much from these concerns or worries over being prosecuted.  About the same time this was going on, John
Hunt was indicted for publishing another work by Byron—possibility of third
libel conviction/going to jail.
 
Chancellor is using prediction of law and rules of equity—other
aspects of equity don’t come into play. 
Publisher/author needs expert opinions about how this will play
out.  Archives exist to study this:
prosecutions for criminal libel involve opinions of AG when manuscripts are
submitted to them for evaluation.  Often
the answer is “clearly in point of law this is criminal libel but not a fit
subject for prosecution.”  Resources;
difficult to convince jury to convict; would have to talk too much about the
Prince Regent’s personal life. The practicalities of suppressing speech!
 
Court of chancery wouldn’t enjoin a publication simply for
being libelous.  What if you’re the
author who owns the ©/the transferee—can you do that?  Eldon’s doctrine pulls the rug out from under
that tactic—which people trying to suppress libel they’d disavowed actually
did.  Byron tried the same thing with a
1809 defamatory poem where he later became friends with the target.
 
Christine Haight Farley: If you’re investigating policy
impact, Byron is an outlier b/c he is an incredibly successful author, which
means his strategies will be different. Different relation w/publisher;
different ability to seek counsel before publishing; different strategies on
reaching the market. What about the impact on the ordinary author?  Authors we’ve never heard of—what do their
letters w/ publishers say?  [what a great
question]
 
Q of doctrine is whether this text is a property or not, and
won’t be if immoral/injurious.  Language
of opinion is always about the intent of the author. Only barristers consulted
in advance seem to read the work as a whole and consider its overall message; they
look at meaning, but judge, prosecutor, and everyone else cited seem to be
talking about what the author intended, including Eldon.
 
A: the intent standard here seems to mean an implied author:
given what this text does, what would you understand the intent to be?  Ultimately he thinks it goes to the effects,
but he needs to look at this in more detail—tied up with the part v. whole
evaluation; Eldon is inconsistent on which you evaluate.
 
Unclean hands: usually A can’t get relief against B because
A was bad to B—but in these cases unclean hands means “being bad to the
public/public interest.”  Unclean hands
doctrine is not used in the latter way during the period he’s studying, and
first is used in this way in cases like this!
 
Other authors: May not be interested in strictly legal IP
rights, though do try unofficial enforcement. But should consider which writers
to look at—writers do have clear political agendas; needs to think more about
who to look at: not sure who’s willing to be somewhat marginalized & know
they’ll never have the reach of a Byron, but do want to have some IP rights.
 
Note that Byron does win here; it’s a story about the
failure of law to suppress speech. The dissemination of this speech then
changes the public.  Also difficulties in
coordinating law with equity.
 
Jurisdictional Boundaries of Prior Use within Britain: An
analysis of the House of Lords’ judgments in Roebuck v Stirling (1774) and
Brown v Annandale (1842)
Barbara Henry (University of Hertfordshire)
Commentator | Eva Hemmungs Wirtén (Linköping University,
Sweden)
 
Two cases, 60 years apart. Patents on improvements weren’t
available in Roebuck, but were in Brown. 
Received patent in Scotland (separate regime from England); litigated
against alleged infringers. Ds cited public use in England prior to the date of
the Scottish patent.  Patentee’s
argument: Couldn’t rely on prior use in England to invalidate Scottish patent—innovation
only had to be new in Scotland; court disagreed.  Concepts of center and periphery.
 
Paper concludes: these weren’t the clearest legal
principles, the decision to continue the Roebuck precedent was sensible—considering
improvements in transportation and communication made it harder to distinguish
England and Scotland.  Single British
patent was beginning to emerge; would be enshrined in law w/in 10 years of
judgment in Brown.  Continuing
significance of the cases?  Addressed key
issues concerning courts in 18th c.—patents for improvements, prior
use/novelty and jurisdictional boundaries; first inventor v. first importer;
impact of Statute of Monopolies on patent; possibly trade secrets and
industrial espionage.  Similar issues
arise w/ European patents.  Are there
materials that would tell the story differently than the court cases?
 
Henry: modern patent law isn’t her area of expertise, but
knowing the past can help explain present concerns.  For countries developing their own systems,
how existing systems developed can show some of the pitfalls.

Trade secrets: there’s discussion of “treacherous servants.” Not clear how big
a role trade secrets played in this case.

Q: that phrase “treacherous servants” is ubiquitous in 19th century
discourse on tech transfer. Any thoughts on that?
 
A: interestingly, the inventors here aren’t Scottish but
English inventors who moved to Scotland. Industries are closely related to Watt
and Bolton—probably not as bad as it might have been in © in terms of
discrimination against outsiders.

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Claims about computer expertise aren’t puffery to ordinary consumers

Burton v. iYogi, Inc., 2015 WL 4385665, No. 13–CV–6926
(S.D.N.Y. Mar. 16, 2015)
 
iYogi provides computer diagnostics and repair, general
troubleshooting, updates to computer drivers, security protection, and PC speed
and performance optimization. To market itself, iYogi offers “Free PC
Diagnostics,” involving a brief phone consultation between a “Technician” and
potential customer. Through remote diagnosis, a “Tech Expert” “[i]dentifies the
problem” and “[r]ecommends a solution.” Burton sought technical support for her
“poorly performing” HP computer because it was “running slowly, freezing and
locking-up.” She found an ad that said something like: “iYogi provides wide
scope HP support online for users to resolve all HP computer related issues
through the assistance of iYogi Certified Technicians,” and “[t]he experts can
help troubleshoot several HP errors like overheating issues, registry
conflicts, etc.”
 
When Burton called, the iYogi technician remotely accessed
Burton’s computer, browsed through various computer files, and stated that they
were contributing to the computer’s problems. The technician her Burton to
download iYogi’s “diagnostic software,” which displayed a “Dashboard”
indicating Burton’s computer “possessed a large amount of ‘junk files’ and
‘Registry errors,’” along with a warning in red typeface that her computer’s
“System State” was “Critical.” The technician informed Burton that her computer
was at serious risk, damaged, and would likely crash if she did not purchase
iYogi’s services to repair her computer.
 
Burton alleged that iYogi technicians operate using scripts intended
to trick customers with little technical expertise, like her, into believing
that iYogi technicians are performing assessments and identifying problems. In
fact, she alleged, no credible diagnostic testing of her, or any other
customer’s, computer was actually conducted. Virtually every potential customer
will receive a warning that “junk files” are harming their computers. The same “errors”
were allegedly found on a brand new computer.
 
But for these misrepresentations, Burton alleged, she wouldn’t
have bought a one-year “iYogi Gold Subscription” for $99.99. Even after
subscribing, her computer allegedly continued to malfunction as it had before
iYogi performed services. She sued for fraudulent inducement and unjust
enrichment.
 
The court refused to dismiss the complaint based on a claim
that the contract limited plaintiff’s time to sue to one year and precluded an
unjust enrichment claim, even though the court found it implausible that she
wasn’t required to accept terms of use before receiving iYogi’s services,
because “‘click-wrap” contracts are standard in Internet-based sales and
service provision.”
 
She also stated a claim for fraudulent inducement.  She adequately alleged false representations
by the technician: the software is allegedly not capable of accurately
diagnosing her or other customers’ computer problems, and iYogi services did
not in fact fix her computer, which continued to malfunction. She specifically
alleged that the “junk files” and “Registry errors” that the iYogi technician
and software identified are found on virtually every computer, including a new
computer, and are not necessarily harmful, and that no credible test was
performed to determine whether they were actually causing the problems on her
computer She further alleged that iYogi technicians follow a script that
“invariably report[s] that potential customers’ computers are in dire condition”
regardless of the actual condition of their computers. iYogi claimed that the
statements couldn’t be false because she made similar statements.  But she admitted that there was a problem
with her computer and alleged that iYogi misrepresented the source and severity
of the problems and iYogi’s ability to fix them to induce her into buying
iYogi’s services. “Just as a medical patient’s complaint of arm pain differs
from a doctor’s x-ray analysis of a fractured limb, so too does a customer’s
complaint of computer trouble differ from a technical ‘diagnosis’ of where and
how there is a malfunction.”
 
Nor were the statements puffery.  Although opinions are generally not
actionable, “[t]he expression of an opinion or prediction which the declarant
does not himself believe is a false statement of fact.” Moreover, “where one
party [has] superior knowledge, the expression of an opinion implies that the
declarant knows facts which support that opinion and that he knows nothing
which contradicts the statement.” Here, the court concluded, whether iYogi
provided the services it claimed to and whether those accurately identify and
fix customers’ problems could be proven true or false. Moreover, if the
allegations were true, then iYogi was presenting statements about customers’
computers as fact based on expert assessment.
 
iYogi argued that Burton failed to allege that the
technician didn’t actually believe the statements.  But she alleged that iYogi technicians are
trained to use scripted dialogue. “Even if an individual iYogi representative
believed the diagnostic testing was accurate, that would not absolve iYogi, the
Defendant, of liability for designing the misleading software and scripts and
training its employees to use them.”
 
Burton also alleged justifiable reliance by consumers of
average technical knowledge. And she sufficiently alleged scienter, which can
be done either “(a) by alleging facts to show defendants had both motive and
opportunity to commit fraud, or (b) by alleging facts that constitute strong
circumstantial evidence of conscious misbehavior or recklessness.” The
allegations that iYogi designed its “diagnostic software” and scripts knowing
and intending that virtually every customer, including Plaintiff, would believe
they had serious computer problems and be induced into buying iYogi services
constitued “sufficient circumstantial evidence to warrant a strong inference of
fraudulent intent.”
 
Burton also stated a claim for unjust enrichment, even
though iYogi argued that the claim was precluded because there was a valid and
enforceable contract covering the subject matter of the claim.  But there was a dispute of fact as to whether
there was a valid and enforceable contract here. And even if there were a
contract, parties may plead in the alternative.

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ISHTIP at Penn, part 4

Session 2 | Dina Leytes (Griesing Law, LLC), Moderator
 
Lord Eldon, Lord Byron, and the Public Domain
Gary Dyer (Cleveland State University)
Commentator | Simon Stern (University of Toronto)
 
Byron’s strategies to deal with Eldon’s doctrine that created a no man’s land b/t criminality and property if works were potentially seditiously libellous or obscene; purported to find in an earlier decision a doctrine that an author could have no remedy if the policy of the law prohibited his work from being property. Injunctions should issue only when the P could clearly establish a legal right.  Eldon’s paradox: exacerbates the effect it’s created to prevent: (1) no property in what’s injurious; (2) destroying ability to profit would discourage authors from creating—but that encourages circulation. Precisely b/c applies to ambiguous circumstances, a publication might not qualify for injunction while simultaneously not being obscene or libellous. A legal ruling that a work was not obscene or libellous should mean that a court of equity should grant a remedy; a ruling that a work wasshould also lead to proceedings against pirate editions. But most works weren’t ever subject to a legal proceeding—simply existed under a shadow.  Pirate editions could persist on the ground that it was too shady for protection but not shady enough to get the author thrown in jail.
 
Byron adopted some self-censoring measures to enjoy this, but not a lot; he wasn’t dissuaded from engaging in libertine speech, and as a result his works circulated further than they otherwise would have. One strategy: authorized cheaper editions that facilitated sales though didn’t undermine pirates entirely.  Byron became one of the first truly national authors to be widely read as soon as his works were published.  Reduced Byron’s own profits.  If Eldon’s doctrine reflects rational choice theory about discouraging authors’ investment in smaller-profit endeavors, then Eldon was wrong/would have done well to read Kahneman & Tversky on bounded rationality or Silbey on actual motivations of authors.
 
One way to read the paper is as contribution to literature on the logic of incentives. Instead of altering his text to receive protection, Byron did other things and accepted lower profits. Also casts doubt on the endowment effect here: once an author has made a certain amount from a work, that could serve as anchor/benchmark; here Byron accepted less for nonpecuniary goals. Value of first mover advantage: Byron profited as much as he did b/c simply beating pirates into print was worth a significant amount for those willing to sell low.  Compare Robert Spoo’s discussion of courtesy of trade among 19th c. US publishers, who also recognized value of first mover advantage in ability to achieve leading position in selling a particular title.
 
Case that provided the motive for Eldon’s doctrine lacked the precedential force Eldon wanted to give it, even if it hadn’t been dictum; could Eldon have achieved the same result using the doctrine of unclean hands?  At least more familiar/plausible doctrinal ground. Resort instead to such an improbable precedent, interpreted in capricious manner, might signal his disdain for the writings in question.  Exercise of legal imagination responding to the authors’ imagination. Contemporaries criticized the poor logic; maybe the poor logic was part of its meaning—more about denying the legitimacy of the author’s position. Maybe he didn’t anticipate the anomalous status of not-property and not-illegal, but that results still makes sense given the shaky foundation of the doctrine.
 
Paper also highlights the fuzzy contours of the public domain which can be changed both by practice and legal doctrine.  Public domain was much broader than it is today in a variety of ways (nonliteral copying); risk-averse conduct of publishers who insist on permissions for what is fair use. Publishers can shrink or expand the practical public domain.  In Byron’s case, that happened as various actors responded—Byron removed just enough criticism of the gov’t to make pirates unsure; pirates argued that the work was corrupt but hoped that it wouldn’t actually be deemed illegal.  London booksellers likewise studiously avoided common law courts that had the authority to determine that common-law copyright was property forever; repeated the claim only in equity courts where chancellor might be willing to indulge the premise and grant injunctions. Injunction is probabalistic device reflecting chancellor’s assumptions about the law, not the law.  Procedural device: a practice of hypothesis and imagination—determined the regulation of these imaginative works.
 
Dyer: Comparatively speaking, Byron didn’t modify his writings much from these concerns or worries over being prosecuted.  About the same time this was going on, John Hunt was indicted for publishing another work by Byron—possibility of third libel conviction/going to jail.
 
Chancellor is using prediction of law and rules of equity—other aspects of equity don’t come into play.  Publisher/author needs expert opinions about how this will play out.  Archives exist to study this: prosecutions for criminal libel involve opinions of AG when manuscripts are submitted to them for evaluation.  Often the answer is “clearly in point of law this is criminal libel but not a fit subject for prosecution.”  Resources; difficult to convince jury to convict; would have to talk too much about the Prince Regent’s personal life. The practicalities of suppressing speech!
 
Court of chancery wouldn’t enjoin a publication simply for being libelous.  What if you’re the author who owns the ©/the transferee—can you do that?  Eldon’s doctrine pulls the rug out from under that tactic—which people trying to suppress libel they’d disavowed actually did.  Byron tried the same thing with a 1809 defamatory poem where he later became friends with the target.
 
Christine Haight Farley: If you’re investigating policy impact, Byron is an outlier b/c he is an incredibly successful author, which means his strategies will be different. Different relation w/publisher; different ability to seek counsel before publishing; different strategies on reaching the market. What about the impact on the ordinary author?  Authors we’ve never heard of—what do their letters w/ publishers say?  [what a great question]
 
Q of doctrine is whether this text is a property or not, and won’t be if immoral/injurious.  Language of opinion is always about the intent of the author. Only barristers consulted in advance seem to read the work as a whole and consider its overall message; they look at meaning, but judge, prosecutor, and everyone else cited seem to be talking about what the author intended, including Eldon.
 
A: the intent standard here seems to mean an implied author: given what this text does, what would you understand the intent to be?  Ultimately he thinks it goes to the effects, but he needs to look at this in more detail—tied up with the part v. whole evaluation; Eldon is inconsistent on which you evaluate.
 
Unclean hands: usually A can’t get relief against B because A was bad to B—but in these cases unclean hands means “being bad to the public/public interest.”  Unclean hands doctrine is not used in the latter way during the period he’s studying, and first is used in this way in cases like this!
 
Other authors: May not be interested in strictly legal IP rights, though do try unofficial enforcement. But should consider which writers to look at—writers do have clear political agendas; needs to think more about who to look at: not sure who’s willing to be somewhat marginalized & know they’ll never have the reach of a Byron, but do want to have some IP rights.
 
Note that Byron does win here; it’s a story about the failure of law to suppress speech. The dissemination of this speech then changes the public.  Also difficulties in coordinating law with equity.
 
Jurisdictional Boundaries of Prior Use within Britain: An analysis of the House of Lords’ judgments in Roebuck v Stirling (1774) and Brown v Annandale (1842)
Barbara Henry (University of Hertfordshire)
Commentator | Eva Hemmungs Wirtén (Linköping University, Sweden)
 
Two cases, 60 years apart. Patents on improvements weren’t available in Roebuck, but were in Brown.  Received patent in Scotland (separate regime from England); litigated against alleged infringers. Ds cited public use in England prior to the date of the Scottish patent.  Patentee’s argument: Couldn’t rely on prior use in England to invalidate Scottish patent—innovation only had to be new in Scotland; court disagreed.  Concepts of center and periphery.
 
Paper concludes: these weren’t the clearest legal principles, the decision to continue the Roebuck precedent was sensible—considering improvements in transportation and communication made it harder to distinguish England and Scotland.  Single British patent was beginning to emerge; would be enshrined in law w/in 10 years of judgment in Brown.  Continuing significance of the cases?  Addressed key issues concerning courts in 18th c.—patents for improvements, prior use/novelty and jurisdictional boundaries; first inventor v. first importer; impact of Statute of Monopolies on patent; possibly trade secrets and industrial espionage.  Similar issues arise w/ European patents.  Are there materials that would tell the story differently than the court cases?
 
Henry: modern patent law isn’t her area of expertise, but knowing the past can help explain present concerns.  For countries developing their own systems, how existing systems developed can show some of the pitfalls.
Trade secrets: there’s discussion of “treacherous servants.” Not clear how big a role trade secrets played in this case.
Q: that phrase “treacherous servants” is ubiquitous in 19th century discourse on tech transfer. Any thoughts on that?
 
A: interestingly, the inventors here aren’t Scottish but English inventors who moved to Scotland. Industries are closely related to Watt and Bolton—probably not as bad as it might have been in © in terms of discrimination against outsiders.
Posted in copyright, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, patent | Leave a comment

Claims about computer expertise aren’t puffery to ordinary consumers

Burton v. iYogi, Inc., 2015 WL 4385665, No. 13–CV–6926 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 16, 2015)
 
iYogi provides computer diagnostics and repair, general troubleshooting, updates to computer drivers, security protection, and PC speed and performance optimization. To market itself, iYogi offers “Free PC Diagnostics,” involving a brief phone consultation between a “Technician” and potential customer. Through remote diagnosis, a “Tech Expert” “[i]dentifies the problem” and “[r]ecommends a solution.” Burton sought technical support for her “poorly performing” HP computer because it was “running slowly, freezing and locking-up.” She found an ad that said something like: “iYogi provides wide scope HP support online for users to resolve all HP computer related issues through the assistance of iYogi Certified Technicians,” and “[t]he experts can help troubleshoot several HP errors like overheating issues, registry conflicts, etc.”
 
When Burton called, the iYogi technician remotely accessed Burton’s computer, browsed through various computer files, and stated that they were contributing to the computer’s problems. The technician her Burton to download iYogi’s “diagnostic software,” which displayed a “Dashboard” indicating Burton’s computer “possessed a large amount of ‘junk files’ and ‘Registry errors,’” along with a warning in red typeface that her computer’s “System State” was “Critical.” The technician informed Burton that her computer was at serious risk, damaged, and would likely crash if she did not purchase iYogi’s services to repair her computer.
 
Burton alleged that iYogi technicians operate using scripts intended to trick customers with little technical expertise, like her, into believing that iYogi technicians are performing assessments and identifying problems. In fact, she alleged, no credible diagnostic testing of her, or any other customer’s, computer was actually conducted. Virtually every potential customer will receive a warning that “junk files” are harming their computers. The same “errors” were allegedly found on a brand new computer.
 
But for these misrepresentations, Burton alleged, she wouldn’t have bought a one-year “iYogi Gold Subscription” for $99.99. Even after subscribing, her computer allegedly continued to malfunction as it had before iYogi performed services. She sued for fraudulent inducement and unjust enrichment.
 
The court refused to dismiss the complaint based on a claim that the contract limited plaintiff’s time to sue to one year and precluded an unjust enrichment claim, even though the court found it implausible that she wasn’t required to accept terms of use before receiving iYogi’s services, because “‘click-wrap” contracts are standard in Internet-based sales and service provision.”
 
She also stated a claim for fraudulent inducement.  She adequately alleged false representations by the technician: the software is allegedly not capable of accurately diagnosing her or other customers’ computer problems, and iYogi services did not in fact fix her computer, which continued to malfunction. She specifically alleged that the “junk files” and “Registry errors” that the iYogi technician and software identified are found on virtually every computer, including a new computer, and are not necessarily harmful, and that no credible test was performed to determine whether they were actually causing the problems on her computer She further alleged that iYogi technicians follow a script that “invariably report[s] that potential customers’ computers are in dire condition” regardless of the actual condition of their computers. iYogi claimed that the statements couldn’t be false because she made similar statements.  But she admitted that there was a problem with her computer and alleged that iYogi misrepresented the source and severity of the problems and iYogi’s ability to fix them to induce her into buying iYogi’s services. “Just as a medical patient’s complaint of arm pain differs from a doctor’s x-ray analysis of a fractured limb, so too does a customer’s complaint of computer trouble differ from a technical ‘diagnosis’ of where and how there is a malfunction.”
 
Nor were the statements puffery.  Although opinions are generally not actionable, “[t]he expression of an opinion or prediction which the declarant does not himself believe is a false statement of fact.” Moreover, “where one party [has] superior knowledge, the expression of an opinion implies that the declarant knows facts which support that opinion and that he knows nothing which contradicts the statement.” Here, the court concluded, whether iYogi provided the services it claimed to and whether those accurately identify and fix customers’ problems could be proven true or false. Moreover, if the allegations were true, then iYogi was presenting statements about customers’ computers as fact based on expert assessment.
 
iYogi argued that Burton failed to allege that the technician didn’t actually believe the statements.  But she alleged that iYogi technicians are trained to use scripted dialogue. “Even if an individual iYogi representative believed the diagnostic testing was accurate, that would not absolve iYogi, the Defendant, of liability for designing the misleading software and scripts and training its employees to use them.”
 
Burton also alleged justifiable reliance by consumers of average technical knowledge. And she sufficiently alleged scienter, which can be done either “(a) by alleging facts to show defendants had both motive and opportunity to commit fraud, or (b) by alleging facts that constitute strong circumstantial evidence of conscious misbehavior or recklessness.” The allegations that iYogi designed its “diagnostic software” and scripts knowing and intending that virtually every customer, including Plaintiff, would believe they had serious computer problems and be induced into buying iYogi services constitued “sufficient circumstantial evidence to warrant a strong inference of fraudulent intent.”
 
Burton also stated a claim for unjust enrichment, even though iYogi argued that the claim was precluded because there was a valid and enforceable contract covering the subject matter of the claim.  But there was a dispute of fact as to whether there was a valid and enforceable contract here. And even if there were a contract, parties may plead in the alternative.
Posted in consumer protection, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post | Leave a comment

ISHTIP at Penn, part 3

Session 1 | Ellen Goodman (Rutgers), Moderator
 
Access and Development: The History of ‘Development’ and
WIPO
Sara Bannerman (McMaster University)
Commentator | Christopher S. Yoo (University of
Pennsylvania) (Yoo presenting Bannerman’s paper, followed by responses from
Bannerman)
 
First, idea of “development” in IP discourse has changed
over time; initially not focused on economic growth but did become so over
time. Second, idea that economic growth went hand in hand w/development came
under sustained critique, but was not successful in displacing that idea.
Third, some reasons for persistence of old vision/incompleteness of Access to
Knowledge’s ability to change the narrative.
 
First: Paper uses a natural language processing technique to
look at underlying documents in major int’l treaty events to study references
to “development.” Four basic meanings. (1) perfection of authors’ rights. (2)
Development of int’l institutions. (3) Development of literature, arts, and
culture.  All were present in fairly
strong terms; (4) economic development started dead last, but starting in 1952
all the others dwindled rapidly.  See
from post-Marshall Plan Europe spillover to developing nations; changed how
development and IP were understood.
 
Timing: this was announced by Truman in 1949 but flowered in
1960s: proposed Stockholm revision to Berne Convention was supposed to have a
development agenda but wasn’t well received/didn’t generate changes in law.  Even the word development constructs a
hierarchy.  Developing world is supposed
to aspire to what developed world has attained. 
Decolonization movement, legacy of imperialism.
 
Movements come along: Friends of Development and Access to
Knowledge question tie b/t strong IP rights and economic growth.  2004-2007: we need a new paradigm of how we
govern knowledge.  Traditional assumption
that everything should be IP-based needs to be rethought.  No concrete proposals, but started to talk
about over-commodification; WIPO should balance costs and benefits of IP
protection.  Some limited progress, but
no major move away—this movement created rhetorical gains but didn’t significantly
displace the economic growth position in int’l law.
 
Why?  Three major
factors: Ideas: development is a conceptual map that is hard to displace.  Note that WIPO antedated the UN, and the
growth vision didn’t mature until post-WWII era along w/UN. But now growth
vision is wound into how we think about IP. 
Second, growing importance of globalized, mobilized, coordinated
industry groups.  Wane and wax of civil
society: official authority to submit proposals. In the 80s civil society
organizations had more power to submit proposals than in 1960s, but still A2K
not successful.  Third, WIPO as
organization with roots in colonial era; WIPO has a view built into its DNA
that it exports to states.  Tension: if
we have a growing discourse of public interest, that would start us moving the
status quo.
 
Comments: Would like to know more about these documents:
what were they about, who were they from? 
Would also like to know absolute values of references to development,
and how that’s changed across discourses.
 
Ambiguity between how much of the discourse in A2K is
targeted at patent v. copyright.  The
paper seems focused on copyright, but it seems broader than that.  Originally grew out of access to medicine,
and that really is about patents/R&D. 
Industrial knowledge/creative knowledge. Sometimes A2K uses that
ambiguity strategically to make access mean whatever is useful at any given
time.
 
How did WIPO change? 
(Policy laundering—rightsowners move to trade agreements as WIPO proved
less hospitable?)  Civil society: how
WIPO participated in the process—who comprises A2K, how do they get funding,
how do they identify topics to work on. Tons of civil society actors exist,
coming from different places; these are the entities that have become
influential in the WIPO process as opposed to others like Creative Commons.
Why?
 
Traditional notion of int’l law is power projection of
individual states that are normatively neutral and you don’t look inside
them.  We have, in last 20 years of int’l
law, added democracy as a global value. At the verge of becoming strong enough
to be imposed back on sovereign states as a global norm.  But that argument was more convincing 10
years ago than today—look at the Ukraine; China’s rise.  We would like to have Chinese IP—trying to
move outside traditional frameworks. Islamic countries: very different
values.  World looks more pluralist; idea
of finding global public interest norms about sharing knowledge seems less
plausible to him today.  Do like
cost-benefit analysis introduced by A2K. But there’s a polar quality to
advocacy positions.  We have
access/incentive tradeoff; even if our reasons for providing access are not
purely economic, we have an awareness that there are tradeoffs; we do want to
fund R&D for medicines somehow. Gray markets; etc.  If we don’t restrict reimportation, we should
accept a single price and a loss of ability to fund R&D.  There is a tendency to ex post opportunism:
once IP is created, let’s get it shared as widely as possible, but that’s not
sustainable on an ongoing basis.  (I’m
unaware of any A2K work of any depth that doesn’t address this question,
actually.)
 
Bannerman: Full book will be coming out soon.  Projects continue to support IP as power tool
for development—money is going to fund patent and copyright offices to provide
more tech.  Very few projects dedicated
to funding different types of access/public domain; those projects tend to be
small scale.  Developing countries have
gained more voice than they once had, though that doesn’t translate to real
dominance at WIPO.  Book does trace civil
society actors in more detail and how they went about engaging with the debates
about © and Berne. But by the time they come with the ability to participate in
a real multilateral organization, now states are setting the agenda; the groups
are more present in a way and have official delegations; they lack the agenda
setting power they used to have. At one time you would’ve found them inside the
state delegations: huge transformation in means of engagement w/int’l
copyright. Many factors, including inability to leave Berne b/c of other
agreements, serve to lock in the existing system.
 
The idea that IP could be balanced in light of the history
recounted in the book is, if not baseless, not supported by the history of who
is at the table; groups invested in the outcomes are often not there or almost
unrepresented.  The idea of balance was
promoted by A2K but the term has been twisted around and used in ways opposite
to what’s intended.  There may be too
much ideology in the A2K movement, but not sure that “balance” is a way of
getting us there.
 
Q: In terms of explanation for resistance to development
agenda: New players arise—global platforms/new corporations funding A2K.  Why don’t they capture an organization like
WIPO, as we see them do on the national level? 
WIPO is an organization that registers patents.  Deliberates on © treaties, but it’s also a
money machine for the UN.  Another issue:
WTO is now undertaking role in enforcing treaties; no longer a role for WIPO—development
agenda comes on board only as WIPO loses relevance.
 
A: competition w/other organizations has provided moments
where change is possible at WIPO; can grasp on to changes to maintain
centrality/legitimacy in WIPO system, so WTO is quite important. See also WIPO work
on traditional knowledge.  Marrakesh Treaty
for visually impaired: tremendous success b/c first time civil society set the
agenda since Berne; but maybe this is a small issue that’s been hived off and
it was possible to get consensus. Other proposed limitations/exceptions: maybe
not.
 
Yoo: WIPO used to be locus for int’l IP negotiations; regime
choice is now endogenous, and US consciously chose to shift negotiations to
GATT, where bargaining environment and voting was different.  Then shift from multilateralism to
bilateralism, now regionalism: TTIP, TPP, Europe’s attempt to adjust ©.  Civil society and multistakeholder
nontraditional governance has more opportunities to bypass public law
altogether—fascinating opportunity.  (For
whom?)  Google and Samsung: A2K for
patents; in ©, intermediaries want A2K but not content providers. Certain
patent coalitions do not completely move over to ©. Ideally big corporations
would fight each other to standstill. 
 
Q: pressure to make unanimous decisions at WIPO has an
effect.  How did this happen?
 
A: Book does discuss unanimity: the ways in which it’s been
interpreted; within the standing committees, the chair interprets whether or
not there is unanimity.  And that can
happen even with strong opposition by state representatives.  Can stand in way of maximalist IP agenda, but
sometimes it’s declared to exist when it doesn’t seem to be true.
 
Q: “Development agenda” hides multiple agendas—more radical
agendas exist, some crushed quickly—like complete transfer of technology.  Western publishers explicitly set out to put
African publishers out of business in 70s.
 
A: Agree: there are many development agendas.
 
Peter Jaszi: WIPO’s greatest failing may be in its
educational activities, heavily weighted towards maximalism and less
transparent/more difficult to intervene on than official activities.
Nondeliberative functions that, partly as a function of competition w/WTO, that
the organization has undertaken deserve more attention.
 
A: one of the main points of development agenda was more transparency
in education/technical assistance; probably failed in that regard.  Contributed to ballooning of WIPO and
regional offices around the world.
 
The Body as Slippery Object, 1900-2015
Kara Swanson (Northeastern University)
Commentator | Rebecca Tushnet (Georgetown University)
 
I’m unfamiliar with the mode of presentation here, so I
trust you’ll attribute any flaws to the presenter and not to Professor
Swanson’s fascinating paper, which considers the human body as a “slippery
object” that resists classification in multiple systems of knowledge production—or,
I would add, material production—including the patent system.  The boundary between nature and culture is a
long-standing question, with specific application in patent law: Patent
examiners and courts need to separate the categories of the natural versus the
human-made in order to separate unpatentable nature from patentable human-made
technology.  Gene patents in particular
mean that something is separated from the body and turned into
technology—blurring the boundary of the self and generating unease and even
anger in some people.
 
Swanson considers disputes over gene patents in light of a
history of disputes over the status and treatment of milk and blood,
identifying a long-standing tension about the boundary between natural and
artificial as applied to the body.  In
historical context, the current legal focus on natural v. human-made as the key
characteristic separating ownable intellectual property from public domain
nature replaced an earlier dichotomy: Americans earlier learned to tolerate
body products as technologies by considering them as personal gifts, focusing
on a distinction between gifts and commodities that diverted attention from the
difficult-to-resolve question of natural vs. artificial.
 
The overlay of the patent system onto the human body
disrupted this acceptance of human-sourced technologies.
 
First, a brief runthrough of the patent situation: In
Diamond v. Chakrabarty, the Supreme Court ruled that a lab-created bacterium
was patentable. This, along with various scientific advances, led to a flood of
gene patenting.  Myriad Genetics patented
certain gene sequences associated with heightened risk of developing breast
cancer.  The patents were used to create
highly lucrative tests and to preclude other researchers from developing tests
for breast cancer and doing other research. 
Women’s groups and public health advocates collaborated to challenge the
Myriad patents, a challenge that reached the Supreme Court.
 
The key legal question was whether an isolated gene sequence
in a form not found in nature constituted a patentable innovation.  Was the process that led to the Myriad
patents more like baking (transforming raw into cooked) or more like snapping a
leaf off of a tree, to take a particularly notable use of analogy?
 
The Supreme Court ruled that purified naturally occurring
sequences, known as gDNA sequences, remained a product of nature even when
isolated in the laboratory, while sequences created in the lab to contain only
coding sequences, known as cDNA sequences, never existing in the body, are
inventions.  Public health advocates
touted this as a victory for the boundaries of patent and the sovereignty of
the body, though its long-term effects remain uncertain.
 
Swanson asks us to consider that there’s a previous history
of removing substances from the body, working on them, and making something
understood as new from them: specifically human milk and blood—collected,
pooled, and treated for safety.  Before
WWII, there were extensive milk and blood banks, and an attempt to
commercialize them, including a debt and credit model for blood.  These early 20th century practices generated
deep public discomfort with the ways in which these products were bought and
sold. Bankers—that is, doctors and administrators—wanted to use a biomedical
model treating the human body as a source of fungible body products, like
carrots or silverware (and here I pause to note the specifically domestic and
thus feminized connotations of these comparisons: at a time when industrial
production as well as mass consumption was a preoccupation of planners, it’s
notable that the blood and milk bankers chose these specific products rather
than cars or sutures).
 
Howeve,r suppliers and patients alike resisted the commodity
characterization, retaining traditional understandings of milk and blood as
natural fluids even when bottled and sold apart from the body—among other
things, they cared very much about the race of the supplier, leading to various
discriminatory practices.
 
Unconfined by the strictures of patent law, the blood and
milk bankers didn’t have to choose between the natural and the technological.
This is not to say they weren’t governed by law, specifically tort law, given
that treating blood as a product raised liability issues when the blood was
dangerous. Faced with the resistance to commodification, managers of body
products gave up on a commercial production model, and settled instead on a
model that could acknowledge and even reinforce the human aspects of these
body-derived technologies, while also preserving the anonymous and
technological aspects: the concept of the gift. This retreat from direct
commercialization of bodily products had the benefit of moving back from
products liability to medical malpractice as the limit of liability for causing
harm in treatment. 
 
Beginning in the 1960s, state medical societies successfully
urged passage of so-called “blood shield laws,” state laws that removed blood
from product liability law by decreeing it to be part of medical services and
not legally within the category of “good.” 
As for milk, in the 1960s and 1970s there was an increasing emphasis on
human milk, even in bottles, as natural. The women who organized these
exchanges, and those who provided extra milk to babies, eschewed payment. “We
don’t buy and we don’t sell. We don’t believe a price can be put on human
milk,” said one.  Such discourses
immediately put me in mind of sociologist Viviana Zelizer and her work on the
ways in which market and nonmarket transactions interact, especially in areas
of intimate social relations—I commend her excellent book Pricing the Priceless
Child, about the rise of life insurance for children precisely as children
became economic burdens rather than benefits. 
After all, even in a gift model, it still costs something to get the
milk from breast to unrelated child—we are just treating the central transaction
as a gift transaction, but the economy around it doesn’t disappear.
 
The gift model succeeded so well that people may not even
know about the alternatives.  The
National Organ Transplant Act, passed in 1984, bolstered the gift
categorization, making unpaid suppliers, who were merely voluntary in blood and
milk banking, mandatory for the next generation of body products used for
transplant: human organs could not be sold for transplant.  One related consequence was the result in the
tort case Moore v. University of California: the California Supreme Court held
that, because human body parts weren’t treated like marketable property by the
relevant laws, a patient did not own cells that had been extracted from him
under false pretenses and used by his doctors to develop an incredibly
lucrative and patented cell line.
 
The court refused to recognize property in Moore’s cells
specifically because to do so would implicate Moore in the commercialization of
his own body, thereby recategorizing people and human-sourced products as
commercial objects.  As a concurring
Justice wrote, “Plaintiff has asked us to recognize and enforce a right to sell
one’s own body tissue for profit. He entreats us to regard the human vessel —
the single most venerated and protected subject in any civilized society — as
equal with the basest commercial commodity. He urges us to commingle the sacred
with the profane.”  But this condemnation
of Moore’s attempted boundary-crossing involves a lot of irony.  First, given that the court drew guidance
from laws about the disposal of human body products, it essentially ruled that
Moore’s cells were, once removed, what Swanson calls “biotrash.” Second,
Moore’s body was commercialized—just not by him! Instead, profit and control
were reserved to the people the court saw as the real creators: the doctors who
received a patent on the cell line developed from Moore’s body.
 
Swanson concludes that the category of technological gift
seemed a false promise to those like John Moore. It no longer offered
recognition of a kind-hearted source of medical services, but seemed a
hypocritical attempt to deny property status and ownership to bodily mateirals
that were simultaneously commercially exploited by for-profit entities. The
body, because it was natural rather than technological, became a public domain
natural resource. As Swanson points out, the rush to patent genes from living
organisms was repeatedly likened to a gold rush, as if bodies were unoccupied
land—as opposed to, like California in the 1840s, both previously occupied and
lushly productive.
 
The gift/commodity distinction could not substitute for the
natural/technological distinction in a legal framework that required
identifying patentable inventions. 
Swanson proposes that the discomfort and outrage sparked by Myriad’s
patents was motivated in part by the disruption such a patent makes to what we
have carefully taught ourselves about body products, commercialization, and the
human, individual qualities of disembodied body parts.  Patents on human-sourced inventions commodify
body products withouth acknowledging the supplier as a beneficent giver.  If we support body product patents, then, we
must develop a new narrative that honors the body’s slippery status.
 
Swanson briefly suggests that there are several
contradictory options: First, we could take more seriously the fact that the
patent act includes the terms “inventions and discoveries” within patentable
subject matter. The common meaning of “discovery” as something existing in the
world, newly brought into the realm of human knowledge, has been written out of
patent law by statutory interpretation and the product of nature doctrine. By
loosening patentable subject matter to include discoveries as well as
inventions, patents would not necessarily cover only the technical or the human-made.
What would make a discovery patentable would be the act of recognition of the
value of such products, thus making them new, rather than novelty in their
existence as newly created.
 
Second, patent doctrine could be adjusted in the direction
that the Myriad plaintiffs urged, and which has been recently suggested by the
America Invents Act prohibition on inventions “encompassing a human.” A
complete ban on patents to human-derived inventions would likewise avoid the
need to categorize them as natural or manmade, avoiding the problem
altogether.  Swanson considers this an
undesirable overreaction, however.
 
Third, the patient-supplier could be formally acknowledged
as an inventor within the terms of patent law, as one who “contributed to the
conception” of the invention. This would probably require statutory revision to
include the provision of parts of oneself as a form of inventorship—or other
forms of credit could be given.  We might
take instruction not from the story of John Moore, but from that of Henrietta
Lacks: a poor African-American woman whose cells were the basis for an
important cell culture, without her family’s knowledge or consent.  Ultimately after extensive publicity, the
Lacks family received credit, but no compensation or control.  I would go further than Swanson and suggest
considering some sort of mandatory payment, which was also discussed by the
justices in the Moore case as an option for the legislature if not for the
courts.  Different kinds of contributions
might deserve different kinds of recognition, but by offering only co-ownership
as an inventor or credit in the form of attribution rights, we may miss an
opportunity to recognize the human body as a particular source of value.
 
Swanson concludes that the gift/commodity dichotomy is
misguided and harmful as a basis for the law and policy of body product
exchange, causing scarcity of body products and injustice in their allocation.
From that perspective, she says, one could argue that rather than adapt patent
law to support the category of technological gift, patent law as it currently
exists should be left alone—which I think means forcing us to take another look
at the nature/culture dichotomy and to make choices about it.
 
A few comments: the paper could fruitfully grow in the direction
of taking a firmer stance on which of these options should be taken, and the
costs and benefits therefrom. Seems pro-commodification, but commodification
and propertization might not be the same thing, as we heard earlier in the day.
 
I would urge a more explicit feminist analysis as the paper
expands: body/mind, nature/culture, gift/market are of course heavily gendered
associations that map onto each other and onto cultural constructions of
femininity and masculinity.  Myriad then
might be seen as a victory for a certain set of women’s interests, but perhaps
at the expense of an opportunity to mount a more fundamental challenge to the
dichotomies that often serve to oppress women.
 
Here, I couldn’t help but think of Donna Haraway’s image of
the cyborg, a female/feminized figure whose boundaries are ever-changing,
reaching out to incorporate parts of the external world. Donna J. Haraway,
Simians, Cyborgs, and Women (1991). Haraway’s cyborg highlights both the
possibilities of technology to enable changeability and the threat that lurks
along with the promise of the power to reconfigure oneself. “[C]yborg fluidity
insists that borders between works matter because they are permeable.”Of course
this is frightening. Penetration of boundaries is often threatening,
potentially disruptive, but penetration is also the condition of creativity,
outside mixing with inside and generating something new.
 
Haraway’s cyborg also draws our attention to other kinds of
boundary violations: according to the dichotomy posed by many of the sources
Swanson discusses, if it’s technology, then it’s not the body: but that’s not
true for many bodies.  My glasses,
another person’s pacemaker, another’s wheelchair—these are conditions of our
embodiment in the world.  Not to mention
the even less visible technologies that clothe us and groom us: the body is not
a person without property—that’s why prisons and psychiatric hospitals and
militaries strip inmates of their personal effects.
 
Power: Who is expected to give, and who is entitled to be
paid? I was struck by the contrsat between blood banks v. traditional,
personalized gift and obligation networks: severing of reciprocal obligation
except in the most attenuated and general sense.  Reminded me of the so-called sharing economy
and current discourses about technoserfs who are induced to create value for
large companies through their own affective engagement with communities created
by for-profit organizations.  Suppose we
did change the law so that body products can be patentable: would it change
anything for the bodies that supply the raw materials for biotech firms, or would
it simply change which large entity finds it easiest to benefit from these
products? 
 
Swanson: Body products developed as forms of property but
not forms of IP: the comparison tries to tease out what part of the Myriad
controversy is due to patent law and what is not, in terms of whether we do or
don’t need to change patent law to deal with it.  Have another whole paper about body products
as property and the difference between commodification and propertization. 
 
Power: Milk and blood outside the patent system—both have
the same meaning in 1900 as the gene in 1990 about how we understand that it
carries the identity of who we are and how we’re related to intimate family
members. Separation of one to one, face to face interaction (first blood
transfusions involved body next to body); moved from direct exchange to
anonymizing institution—bank—that says each unit is equivalent to each other.
Markets and gifting both severed the
individualization.
 
The market in human milk: maternal/feminine gifting—altruism
and kindness.  Today there’s a shift:
there are two separate for-profit companies that have patents for forms of
human milk—one shelf-stable.  They’ll
pay, which makes the donor world afraid that their supplies will dry up, pun
intended.  Women who sold their milk in
the early 20th century were not mercenary: they could afford to stay
at home and nurse by selling milk.  Same
could happen again, as Zelizer has described.
 
Q: regionalism: wet nursing in the South?
 
A: Replaced wet nursing b/c they became harder to get as 19th
century advanced and there were more options for women to earn money outside
the home. Separate that from wet nursing under slavery, where entire reproductive
capacity is taken over by enslavers. Wet nursing was never as established in the
US as in Europe; small portion of Southern population; mostly wet nursing
occurred b/c there was no mother’s milk supply available.  First mother’s milk station was founded by
young Harvard grad trying to save a baby who needed a wet nurse.  Thought rushing around looking for a wet
nurse was an inefficient use of his time. Found out he had to pay women to keep
nursing—you can’t wait for a wet nurse job/keep nursing unless you can survive.
Then he moved to having them express milk in bottles.
 
Handed to women in bottles: Seemed more anonymous; less
worry that particular characteristics of wet nurse (e.g., Irish in Boston)
might negatively affect a Brahmin baby.
 
Madison: Potentially a gap in the analogy b/t blood, milk,
sperm and genetics/gene patents, in that the former focus on the material
itself. It’s plausible to say there’s an individual human owner or origin. But in
genetics, a part of the debate that affects nature v. manufacture character is
that the genetic information doesn’t belong to/originate w/that human, but
rather there is shared/collective interest in that info.
 
A: Moore goes to
that: involves both—property and IP. 
Moore’s particular cells are particularly valuable b/c he has something
that’s not shared but its value is only realized through abstraction.
 
RT: I think that’s a matter of POV.  The whole process of producing milk and blood
is to make it fungible—we don’t care about the genetics once we’ve typed the
blood/literally homogenized the milk.  So
it’s arguably less plausible to say
the blood or milk is individualized versus genes found in one person.
 
Q: using notions of property to reinscribe a geneaology,
recentralizing role in producing value: similarity to Marvin Gaye/Blurred Lines
case—racial justice aspects.
 
Q: note that you have to keep records of provenance for
blood—people in the UK during mad cow can’t donate, etc. Ads encourage men to
give blood b/c women give more blood than men—principle of public duty. But if
I can’t, what does that do to my sense of citizenship?  (Let me tell you a story about the social
meaning of breastfeeding.)
 
A: stories of African-Americans being turned away from
giving blood in the South; or they’d take it and not use it.  Now: HIV status/being gay—badge of
citizenship. The constant tension b/t anonymizing and being concerned w/ the
nature of the person who is giving.  (If
we focus on the recipient, things look more equal.)
 
Moral outrage at company trying to buy breast milk in
Detroit—exploiting poor women.  We are
not necessarily becoming more relaxed over time about outputs of our own
bodies.
 
Jaszi: Could one do a hierarchy in levels of
distaste/disapproval?  (Jonathan Haidt’s
work?) Sperm, cadavers, fetal parts—consider what’s going on w/Planned
Parenthood. Disapproval of commodification would probably be greater for things
that come from women’s bodies. (The work on eggs versus sperm would tend to
confirm this, though someone said there was an international market in women’s
hair.)
 
A: interesting in light of blood: blood donor historically
quite gendered despite its formal gender neutrality.
 
Q: other countries do it differently: exploitation of body
parts in China.  Also consider religious
beliefs around the use of the body: it’s part of the universe that needs to be
respected—not related to capitalism per se.
 
A: some countries have tried to set up milk banks and
failed, b/c milk drinking = relation between the donor and baby for life (and
any other children are milk siblings).

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ISHTIP at Penn, part 3

Session 1 | Ellen Goodman (Rutgers), Moderator
 
Access and Development: The History of ‘Development’ and WIPO
Sara Bannerman (McMaster University)
Commentator | Christopher S. Yoo (University of Pennsylvania) (Yoo presenting Bannerman’s paper, followed by responses from Bannerman)
 
First, idea of “development” in IP discourse has changed over time; initially not focused on economic growth but did become so over time. Second, idea that economic growth went hand in hand w/development came under sustained critique, but was not successful in displacing that idea. Third, some reasons for persistence of old vision/incompleteness of Access to Knowledge’s ability to change the narrative.
 
First: Paper uses a natural language processing technique to look at underlying documents in major int’l treaty events to study references to “development.” Four basic meanings. (1) perfection of authors’ rights. (2) Development of int’l institutions. (3) Development of literature, arts, and culture.  All were present in fairly strong terms; (4) economic development started dead last, but starting in 1952 all the others dwindled rapidly.  See from post-Marshall Plan Europe spillover to developing nations; changed how development and IP were understood.
 
Timing: this was announced by Truman in 1949 but flowered in 1960s: proposed Stockholm revision to Berne Convention was supposed to have a development agenda but wasn’t well received/didn’t generate changes in law.  Even the word development constructs a hierarchy.  Developing world is supposed to aspire to what developed world has attained.  Decolonization movement, legacy of imperialism.
 
Movements come along: Friends of Development and Access to Knowledge question tie b/t strong IP rights and economic growth.  2004-2007: we need a new paradigm of how we govern knowledge.  Traditional assumption that everything should be IP-based needs to be rethought.  No concrete proposals, but started to talk about over-commodification; WIPO should balance costs and benefits of IP protection.  Some limited progress, but no major move away—this movement created rhetorical gains but didn’t significantly displace the economic growth position in int’l law.
 
Why?  Three major factors: Ideas: development is a conceptual map that is hard to displace.  Note that WIPO antedated the UN, and the growth vision didn’t mature until post-WWII era along w/UN. But now growth vision is wound into how we think about IP.  Second, growing importance of globalized, mobilized, coordinated industry groups.  Wane and wax of civil society: official authority to submit proposals. In the 80s civil society organizations had more power to submit proposals than in 1960s, but still A2K not successful.  Third, WIPO as organization with roots in colonial era; WIPO has a view built into its DNA that it exports to states.  Tension: if we have a growing discourse of public interest, that would start us moving the status quo.
 
Comments: Would like to know more about these documents: what were they about, who were they from?  Would also like to know absolute values of references to development, and how that’s changed across discourses.
 
Ambiguity between how much of the discourse in A2K is targeted at patent v. copyright.  The paper seems focused on copyright, but it seems broader than that.  Originally grew out of access to medicine, and that really is about patents/R&D.  Industrial knowledge/creative knowledge. Sometimes A2K uses that ambiguity strategically to make access mean whatever is useful at any given time.
 
How did WIPO change?  (Policy laundering—rightsowners move to trade agreements as WIPO proved less hospitable?)  Civil society: how WIPO participated in the process—who comprises A2K, how do they get funding, how do they identify topics to work on. Tons of civil society actors exist, coming from different places; these are the entities that have become influential in the WIPO process as opposed to others like Creative Commons. Why?
 
Traditional notion of int’l law is power projection of individual states that are normatively neutral and you don’t look inside them.  We have, in last 20 years of int’l law, added democracy as a global value. At the verge of becoming strong enough to be imposed back on sovereign states as a global norm.  But that argument was more convincing 10 years ago than today—look at the Ukraine; China’s rise.  We would like to have Chinese IP—trying to move outside traditional frameworks. Islamic countries: very different values.  World looks more pluralist; idea of finding global public interest norms about sharing knowledge seems less plausible to him today.  Do like cost-benefit analysis introduced by A2K. But there’s a polar quality to advocacy positions.  We have access/incentive tradeoff; even if our reasons for providing access are not purely economic, we have an awareness that there are tradeoffs; we do want to fund R&D for medicines somehow. Gray markets; etc.  If we don’t restrict reimportation, we should accept a single price and a loss of ability to fund R&D.  There is a tendency to ex post opportunism: once IP is created, let’s get it shared as widely as possible, but that’s not sustainable on an ongoing basis.  (I’m unaware of any A2K work of any depth that doesn’t address this question, actually.)
 
Bannerman: Full book will be coming out soon.  Projects continue to support IP as power tool for development—money is going to fund patent and copyright offices to provide more tech.  Very few projects dedicated to funding different types of access/public domain; those projects tend to be small scale.  Developing countries have gained more voice than they once had, though that doesn’t translate to real dominance at WIPO.  Book does trace civil society actors in more detail and how they went about engaging with the debates about © and Berne. But by the time they come with the ability to participate in a real multilateral organization, now states are setting the agenda; the groups are more present in a way and have official delegations; they lack the agenda setting power they used to have. At one time you would’ve found them inside the state delegations: huge transformation in means of engagement w/int’l copyright. Many factors, including inability to leave Berne b/c of other agreements, serve to lock in the existing system.
 
The idea that IP could be balanced in light of the history recounted in the book is, if not baseless, not supported by the history of who is at the table; groups invested in the outcomes are often not there or almost unrepresented.  The idea of balance was promoted by A2K but the term has been twisted around and used in ways opposite to what’s intended.  There may be too much ideology in the A2K movement, but not sure that “balance” is a way of getting us there.
 
Q: In terms of explanation for resistance to development agenda: New players arise—global platforms/new corporations funding A2K.  Why don’t they capture an organization like WIPO, as we see them do on the national level?  WIPO is an organization that registers patents.  Deliberates on © treaties, but it’s also a money machine for the UN.  Another issue: WTO is now undertaking role in enforcing treaties; no longer a role for WIPO—development agenda comes on board only as WIPO loses relevance.
 
A: competition w/other organizations has provided moments where change is possible at WIPO; can grasp on to changes to maintain centrality/legitimacy in WIPO system, so WTO is quite important. See also WIPO work on traditional knowledge.  Marrakesh Treaty for visually impaired: tremendous success b/c first time civil society set the agenda since Berne; but maybe this is a small issue that’s been hived off and it was possible to get consensus. Other proposed limitations/exceptions: maybe not.
 
Yoo: WIPO used to be locus for int’l IP negotiations; regime choice is now endogenous, and US consciously chose to shift negotiations to GATT, where bargaining environment and voting was different.  Then shift from multilateralism to bilateralism, now regionalism: TTIP, TPP, Europe’s attempt to adjust ©.  Civil society and multistakeholder nontraditional governance has more opportunities to bypass public law altogether—fascinating opportunity.  (For whom?)  Google and Samsung: A2K for patents; in ©, intermediaries want A2K but not content providers. Certain patent coalitions do not completely move over to ©. Ideally big corporations would fight each other to standstill. 
 
Q: pressure to make unanimous decisions at WIPO has an effect.  How did this happen?
 
A: Book does discuss unanimity: the ways in which it’s been interpreted; within the standing committees, the chair interprets whether or not there is unanimity.  And that can happen even with strong opposition by state representatives.  Can stand in way of maximalist IP agenda, but sometimes it’s declared to exist when it doesn’t seem to be true.
 
Q: “Development agenda” hides multiple agendas—more radical agendas exist, some crushed quickly—like complete transfer of technology.  Western publishers explicitly set out to put African publishers out of business in 70s.
 
A: Agree: there are many development agendas.
 
Peter Jaszi: WIPO’s greatest failing may be in its educational activities, heavily weighted towards maximalism and less transparent/more difficult to intervene on than official activities. Nondeliberative functions that, partly as a function of competition w/WTO, that the organization has undertaken deserve more attention.
 
A: one of the main points of development agenda was more transparency in education/technical assistance; probably failed in that regard.  Contributed to ballooning of WIPO and regional offices around the world.
 
The Body as Slippery Object, 1900-2015
Kara Swanson (Northeastern University)
Commentator | Rebecca Tushnet (Georgetown University)
 
I’m unfamiliar with the mode of presentation here, so I trust you’ll attribute any flaws to the presenter and not to Professor Swanson’s fascinating paper, which considers the human body as a “slippery object” that resists classification in multiple systems of knowledge production—or, I would add, material production—including the patent system.  The boundary between nature and culture is a long-standing question, with specific application in patent law: Patent examiners and courts need to separate the categories of the natural versus the human-made in order to separate unpatentable nature from patentable human-made technology.  Gene patents in particular mean that something is separated from the body and turned into technology—blurring the boundary of the self and generating unease and even anger in some people.
 
Swanson considers disputes over gene patents in light of a history of disputes over the status and treatment of milk and blood, identifying a long-standing tension about the boundary between natural and artificial as applied to the body.  In historical context, the current legal focus on natural v. human-made as the key characteristic separating ownable intellectual property from public domain nature replaced an earlier dichotomy: Americans earlier learned to tolerate body products as technologies by considering them as personal gifts, focusing on a distinction between gifts and commodities that diverted attention from the difficult-to-resolve question of natural vs. artificial.
 
The overlay of the patent system onto the human body disrupted this acceptance of human-sourced technologies.
 
First, a brief runthrough of the patent situation: In Diamond v. Chakrabarty, the Supreme Court ruled that a lab-created bacterium was patentable. This, along with various scientific advances, led to a flood of gene patenting.  Myriad Genetics patented certain gene sequences associated with heightened risk of developing breast cancer.  The patents were used to create highly lucrative tests and to preclude other researchers from developing tests for breast cancer and doing other research.  Women’s groups and public health advocates collaborated to challenge the Myriad patents, a challenge that reached the Supreme Court.
 
The key legal question was whether an isolated gene sequence in a form not found in nature constituted a patentable innovation.  Was the process that led to the Myriad patents more like baking (transforming raw into cooked) or more like snapping a leaf off of a tree, to take a particularly notable use of analogy?
 
The Supreme Court ruled that purified naturally occurring sequences, known as gDNA sequences, remained a product of nature even when isolated in the laboratory, while sequences created in the lab to contain only coding sequences, known as cDNA sequences, never existing in the body, are inventions.  Public health advocates touted this as a victory for the boundaries of patent and the sovereignty of the body, though its long-term effects remain uncertain.
 
Swanson asks us to consider that there’s a previous history of removing substances from the body, working on them, and making something understood as new from them: specifically human milk and blood—collected, pooled, and treated for safety.  Before WWII, there were extensive milk and blood banks, and an attempt to commercialize them, including a debt and credit model for blood.  These early 20th century practices generated deep public discomfort with the ways in which these products were bought and sold. Bankers—that is, doctors and administrators—wanted to use a biomedical model treating the human body as a source of fungible body products, like carrots or silverware (and here I pause to note the specifically domestic and thus feminized connotations of these comparisons: at a time when industrial production as well as mass consumption was a preoccupation of planners, it’s notable that the blood and milk bankers chose these specific products rather than cars or sutures).
 
Howeve,r suppliers and patients alike resisted the commodity characterization, retaining traditional understandings of milk and blood as natural fluids even when bottled and sold apart from the body—among other things, they cared very much about the race of the supplier, leading to various discriminatory practices.
 
Unconfined by the strictures of patent law, the blood and milk bankers didn’t have to choose between the natural and the technological. This is not to say they weren’t governed by law, specifically tort law, given that treating blood as a product raised liability issues when the blood was dangerous. Faced with the resistance to commodification, managers of body products gave up on a commercial production model, and settled instead on a model that could acknowledge and even reinforce the human aspects of these body-derived technologies, while also preserving the anonymous and technological aspects: the concept of the gift. This retreat from direct commercialization of bodily products had the benefit of moving back from products liability to medical malpractice as the limit of liability for causing harm in treatment. 
 
Beginning in the 1960s, state medical societies successfully urged passage of so-called “blood shield laws,” state laws that removed blood from product liability law by decreeing it to be part of medical services and not legally within the category of “good.”  As for milk, in the 1960s and 1970s there was an increasing emphasis on human milk, even in bottles, as natural. The women who organized these exchanges, and those who provided extra milk to babies, eschewed payment. “We don’t buy and we don’t sell. We don’t believe a price can be put on human milk,” said one.  Such discourses immediately put me in mind of sociologist Viviana Zelizer and her work on the ways in which market and nonmarket transactions interact, especially in areas of intimate social relations—I commend her excellent book Pricing the Priceless Child, about the rise of life insurance for children precisely as children became economic burdens rather than benefits.  After all, even in a gift model, it still costs something to get the milk from breast to unrelated child—we are just treating the central transaction as a gift transaction, but the economy around it doesn’t disappear.
 
The gift model succeeded so well that people may not even know about the alternatives.  The National Organ Transplant Act, passed in 1984, bolstered the gift categorization, making unpaid suppliers, who were merely voluntary in blood and milk banking, mandatory for the next generation of body products used for transplant: human organs could not be sold for transplant.  One related consequence was the result in the tort case Moore v. University of California: the California Supreme Court held that, because human body parts weren’t treated like marketable property by the relevant laws, a patient did not own cells that had been extracted from him under false pretenses and used by his doctors to develop an incredibly lucrative and patented cell line.
 
The court refused to recognize property in Moore’s cells specifically because to do so would implicate Moore in the commercialization of his own body, thereby recategorizing people and human-sourced products as commercial objects.  As a concurring Justice wrote, “Plaintiff has asked us to recognize and enforce a right to sell one’s own body tissue for profit. He entreats us to regard the human vessel — the single most venerated and protected subject in any civilized society — as equal with the basest commercial commodity. He urges us to commingle the sacred with the profane.”  But this condemnation of Moore’s attempted boundary-crossing involves a lot of irony.  First, given that the court drew guidance from laws about the disposal of human body products, it essentially ruled that Moore’s cells were, once removed, what Swanson calls “biotrash.” Second, Moore’s body was commercialized—just not by him! Instead, profit and control were reserved to the people the court saw as the real creators: the doctors who received a patent on the cell line developed from Moore’s body.
 
Swanson concludes that the category of technological gift seemed a false promise to those like John Moore. It no longer offered recognition of a kind-hearted source of medical services, but seemed a hypocritical attempt to deny property status and ownership to bodily mateirals that were simultaneously commercially exploited by for-profit entities. The body, because it was natural rather than technological, became a public domain natural resource. As Swanson points out, the rush to patent genes from living organisms was repeatedly likened to a gold rush, as if bodies were unoccupied land—as opposed to, like California in the 1840s, both previously occupied and lushly productive.
 
The gift/commodity distinction could not substitute for the natural/technological distinction in a legal framework that required identifying patentable inventions.  Swanson proposes that the discomfort and outrage sparked by Myriad’s patents was motivated in part by the disruption such a patent makes to what we have carefully taught ourselves about body products, commercialization, and the human, individual qualities of disembodied body parts.  Patents on human-sourced inventions commodify body products withouth acknowledging the supplier as a beneficent giver.  If we support body product patents, then, we must develop a new narrative that honors the body’s slippery status.
 
Swanson briefly suggests that there are several contradictory options: First, we could take more seriously the fact that the patent act includes the terms “inventions and discoveries” within patentable subject matter. The common meaning of “discovery” as something existing in the world, newly brought into the realm of human knowledge, has been written out of patent law by statutory interpretation and the product of nature doctrine. By loosening patentable subject matter to include discoveries as well as inventions, patents would not necessarily cover only the technical or the human-made. What would make a discovery patentable would be the act of recognition of the value of such products, thus making them new, rather than novelty in their existence as newly created.
 
Second, patent doctrine could be adjusted in the direction that the Myriad plaintiffs urged, and which has been recently suggested by the America Invents Act prohibition on inventions “encompassing a human.” A complete ban on patents to human-derived inventions would likewise avoid the need to categorize them as natural or manmade, avoiding the problem altogether.  Swanson considers this an undesirable overreaction, however.
 
Third, the patient-supplier could be formally acknowledged as an inventor within the terms of patent law, as one who “contributed to the conception” of the invention. This would probably require statutory revision to include the provision of parts of oneself as a form of inventorship—or other forms of credit could be given.  We might take instruction not from the story of John Moore, but from that of Henrietta Lacks: a poor African-American woman whose cells were the basis for an important cell culture, without her family’s knowledge or consent.  Ultimately after extensive publicity, the Lacks family received credit, but no compensation or control.  I would go further than Swanson and suggest considering some sort of mandatory payment, which was also discussed by the justices in the Moore case as an option for the legislature if not for the courts.  Different kinds of contributions might deserve different kinds of recognition, but by offering only co-ownership as an inventor or credit in the form of attribution rights, we may miss an opportunity to recognize the human body as a particular source of value.
 
Swanson concludes that the gift/commodity dichotomy is misguided and harmful as a basis for the law and policy of body product exchange, causing scarcity of body products and injustice in their allocation. From that perspective, she says, one could argue that rather than adapt patent law to support the category of technological gift, patent law as it currently exists should be left alone—which I think means forcing us to take another look at the nature/culture dichotomy and to make choices about it.
 
A few comments: the paper could fruitfully grow in the direction of taking a firmer stance on which of these options should be taken, and the costs and benefits therefrom. Seems pro-commodification, but commodification and propertization might not be the same thing, as we heard earlier in the day.
 
I would urge a more explicit feminist analysis as the paper expands: body/mind, nature/culture, gift/market are of course heavily gendered associations that map onto each other and onto cultural constructions of femininity and masculinity.  Myriad then might be seen as a victory for a certain set of women’s interests, but perhaps at the expense of an opportunity to mount a more fundamental challenge to the dichotomies that often serve to oppress women.
 
Here, I couldn’t help but think of Donna Haraway’s image of the cyborg, a female/feminized figure whose boundaries are ever-changing, reaching out to incorporate parts of the external world. Donna J. Haraway, Simians, Cyborgs, and Women (1991). Haraway’s cyborg highlights both the possibilities of technology to enable changeability and the threat that lurks along with the promise of the power to reconfigure oneself. “[C]yborg fluidity insists that borders between works matter because they are permeable.”Of course this is frightening. Penetration of boundaries is often threatening, potentially disruptive, but penetration is also the condition of creativity, outside mixing with inside and generating something new.
 
Haraway’s cyborg also draws our attention to other kinds of boundary violations: according to the dichotomy posed by many of the sources Swanson discusses, if it’s technology, then it’s not the body: but that’s not true for many bodies.  My glasses, another person’s pacemaker, another’s wheelchair—these are conditions of our embodiment in the world.  Not to mention the even less visible technologies that clothe us and groom us: the body is not a person without property—that’s why prisons and psychiatric hospitals and militaries strip inmates of their personal effects.
 
Power: Who is expected to give, and who is entitled to be paid? I was struck by the contrsat between blood banks v. traditional, personalized gift and obligation networks: severing of reciprocal obligation except in the most attenuated and general sense.  Reminded me of the so-called sharing economy and current discourses about technoserfs who are induced to create value for large companies through their own affective engagement with communities created by for-profit organizations.  Suppose we did change the law so that body products can be patentable: would it change anything for the bodies that supply the raw materials for biotech firms, or would it simply change which large entity finds it easiest to benefit from these products? 
 
Swanson: Body products developed as forms of property but not forms of IP: the comparison tries to tease out what part of the Myriad controversy is due to patent law and what is not, in terms of whether we do or don’t need to change patent law to deal with it.  Have another whole paper about body products as property and the difference between commodification and propertization. 
 
Power: Milk and blood outside the patent system—both have the same meaning in 1900 as the gene in 1990 about how we understand that it carries the identity of who we are and how we’re related to intimate family members. Separation of one to one, face to face interaction (first blood transfusions involved body next to body); moved from direct exchange to anonymizing institution—bank—that says each unit is equivalent to each other. Markets and gifting both severed the individualization.
 
The market in human milk: maternal/feminine gifting—altruism and kindness.  Today there’s a shift: there are two separate for-profit companies that have patents for forms of human milk—one shelf-stable.  They’ll pay, which makes the donor world afraid that their supplies will dry up, pun intended.  Women who sold their milk in the early 20th century were not mercenary: they could afford to stay at home and nurse by selling milk.  Same could happen again, as Zelizer has described.
 
Q: regionalism: wet nursing in the South?
 
A: Replaced wet nursing b/c they became harder to get as 19thcentury advanced and there were more options for women to earn money outside the home. Separate that from wet nursing under slavery, where entire reproductive capacity is taken over by enslavers. Wet nursing was never as established in the US as in Europe; small portion of Southern population; mostly wet nursing occurred b/c there was no mother’s milk supply available.  First mother’s milk station was founded by young Harvard grad trying to save a baby who needed a wet nurse.  Thought rushing around looking for a wet nurse was an inefficient use of his time. Found out he had to pay women to keep nursing—you can’t wait for a wet nurse job/keep nursing unless you can survive. Then he moved to having them express milk in bottles.
 
Handed to women in bottles: Seemed more anonymous; less worry that particular characteristics of wet nurse (e.g., Irish in Boston) might negatively affect a Brahmin baby.
 
Madison: Potentially a gap in the analogy b/t blood, milk, sperm and genetics/gene patents, in that the former focus on the material itself. It’s plausible to say there’s an individual human owner or origin. But in genetics, a part of the debate that affects nature v. manufacture character is that the genetic information doesn’t belong to/originate w/that human, but rather there is shared/collective interest in that info.
 
A: Moore goes to that: involves both—property and IP.  Moore’s particular cells are particularly valuable b/c he has something that’s not shared but its value is only realized through abstraction.
 
RT: I think that’s a matter of POV.  The whole process of producing milk and blood is to make it fungible—we don’t care about the genetics once we’ve typed the blood/literally homogenized the milk.  So it’s arguably less plausible to say the blood or milk is individualized versus genes found in one person.
 
Q: using notions of property to reinscribe a geneaology, recentralizing role in producing value: similarity to Marvin Gaye/Blurred Lines case—racial justice aspects.
 
Q: note that you have to keep records of provenance for blood—people in the UK during mad cow can’t donate, etc. Ads encourage men to give blood b/c women give more blood than men—principle of public duty. But if I can’t, what does that do to my sense of citizenship?  (Let me tell you a story about the social meaning of breastfeeding.)
 
A: stories of African-Americans being turned away from giving blood in the South; or they’d take it and not use it.  Now: HIV status/being gay—badge of citizenship. The constant tension b/t anonymizing and being concerned w/ the nature of the person who is giving.  (If we focus on the recipient, things look more equal.)
 
Moral outrage at company trying to buy breast milk in Detroit—exploiting poor women.  We are not necessarily becoming more relaxed over time about outputs of our own bodies.
 
Jaszi: Could one do a hierarchy in levels of distaste/disapproval?  (Jonathan Haidt’s work?) Sperm, cadavers, fetal parts—consider what’s going on w/Planned Parenthood. Disapproval of commodification would probably be greater for things that come from women’s bodies. (The work on eggs versus sperm would tend to confirm this, though someone said there was an international market in women’s hair.)
 
A: interesting in light of blood: blood donor historically quite gendered despite its formal gender neutrality.
 
Q: other countries do it differently: exploitation of body parts in China.  Also consider religious beliefs around the use of the body: it’s part of the universe that needs to be respected—not related to capitalism per se.
 
A: some countries have tried to set up milk banks and failed, b/c milk drinking = relation between the donor and baby for life (and any other children are milk siblings).
Posted in copyright, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, patent | Leave a comment

ISHTIP at Penn, part 2

Early Career, Panel 2 | Fiona Macmillan (Birkbeck,
University of London), Moderator
 
Monica Huerta (Duke University) | Some Singularities, Like
the Human Face
 
Famous Sarony photo of Oscar Wilde: signature at bottom is
photographer’s.  Problem of photographic
copyright, familiar to literary/photographic critics: is a photographer
analogous to a literary author and if so how. Can you discern intent from
photos?  Portrait of a person that could
be the expression of someone else’s
creativity. History of theatrical performance bears on the issue—a shift in
acting practices. Undertheorized aspect: debt of history & photography to
the theater.

Visible expression of authorship linked to Sarony’s ability to
dictate/manipulate otherwise highly personal issue of what Wilde looked
like/how he moved/how he positioned his face. Authorship was itself an
abstraction known only through its effects on others.
 
Mere reproduction wouldn’t be copyrightable.  Christine Haight Farley discusses history of
photography—some photos as reproduction/others as authored—and argued that this
distinction served to preserve the evidentiary status of photos uses in legal
cases. Relied on Sarony’s arrangement of the scene depicted, not the mere fact
that he took a photo.  Photo itself was
somewhat beside the point (button pushing).
 
So why was arranging artful enough to qualify for ©? Sarony
sought to move beyond conventionality of the pose, which also describes contemporary
shifts in theatrical practice from melodrama towards realism. Sarony marketed
his business as about attentiveness to posing. 
Sarony has a patent for a posing apparatus.  The poses shown do not correspond to any
particular conventional emotional state—the point was that Sarony could pose
the model in many ways.
 
Shift to realism in acting: how they mobilized actors’
bodies differently on stage in a way that resonates w/Sarony’s arrangement.  Previous ideas of acting: poses corresponded
to specific emotional states; involuntary movements should be minimized.  But new theater trained “involuntary”
movements and valued “realistic” portrayal. 
 
Sarony may have asked Wilde to soften his eyes/tilt his
chin; also may have arranged Wilde’s face outside Wilde’s own control to make
Wilde’s image into Sarony’s expression.  Early
film directors “produced” expressions in actors through catching them off guard
and relying on the camera to catch their involuntary reactions.  Author-function was absent from the objects
viewers saw; director became an author—a modern notion. Before then, in the
late 19th century, actors often chose their own costumes. Struggle
for authorial control had been between playwrights, managers, and actors; but
then directors began to have control not just over staging but also over actors’
performances. 
 
Sarony’s arrangement was thought to include arranging Wilde’s
facial expressions.  Counsel for the
litho. company contended that Sarony couldn’t invent or create Oscar
Wilde.  Jane Gaines: Wilde’s face was a “guarantee”
of private property. A natural no-trespassing sign. But Gaines treats the face
too abstractly.  In Sarony, Justice Miller described purposefully unequal and
imbalanced exchange between photographer and photographed.  The ability to distinguish private property
from language held in common was a problem in copyright—distinguish language
that had become personal enough to be property; the assumption that faces were
utterly individual provided unstable but good-enough proof that an author could
manipulate language enough to become an owner; the concept of “face” was often
invoked to explain/justify originality.  E.g.,
the discourse included claims that a literary work that is original, like a
human face, will always have distinguishing features.
 
Q: industry considers playwrights the authors; directors
aren’t given formal legal rights to their work. Does the difference b/t
theater, where you have conscious authorship in the form of the playwright,
change the equation compared to a photo, where there are no other conscious
authors?  You equate photographer with
director who imposes vision on subjects. 
In photo that ends, but in play you have a separate person also trying
to impose vision on subjects, the playwright.
 
A: Contexts of authorship matter: how it is that intention
gets traced through various forms, and how it leaves traces/becomes
identifiable.  The usefulness of thinking
about directors: how arranging is understood as authorship. 
 
Q: does the director become less of an author/coauthor
because of the playwright?
 
A: maybe not. 
Authorship in a play is the playwright’s when you read it; when you
watch a play it doesn’t diminish the authorship of the director.
 
RT: I think that answer is incomplete—the director doesn’t
get authorship because we’ve already picked an author and the US is bad at
joint authorship through orthogonal contributions.  Rather it seems to be the separation between
the person being arranged and his or her own control over self-presentation
that lifts authorship up and enables it to be placed somewhere else: actor can
also be seen as instrument of playwright—consider discourses about playwrights
as authors and their relations to actors.
 
A: yes, what’s interesting is that separation, where the
author no longer needs to be identified with her face, as long as there’s some object/face to identify her with.
 
Q: Garcia v. Google: actor couldn’t have copyright in the
film—still very contentious. Cultural incapacity to embrace the division
between authorship and law (or maybe authorship and embodiment).
 
Douglas O’Reagan (University of California, Berkeley) |
Technical Know-How in Postwar Business and Law
 
Know-how and related terms used heavily by businesses
(Google nGram), then lawyers were brought in to figure out how to protect
it.  1955: Int’l Chamber of Commerce—known
how is tremendously valuable subjects of industrial property supplementing
patents.  Sought protection in law.  1964: USTA said know-how was the handmaid of
progress. Top 40 companies: 25% of all licenses were solely for know-how, not
patents; 33% just patents; 42% mixed. 
British companies had the same conclusions—patents added in as
afterthought to make it seem concrete.  Spread
to French, German, etc. as borrowed word incorporated into legal traditions, “das
Know-How.” 
 
Didn’t work out in US b/c of SCt decisions in the 1970s that
undermined the legal foundation of the right. Even though businesses liked idea
of broad thing they could license, lawyers wanted a thing with a
definition.  Kingman Brewster, HLS, 1958:
called all unpatented information “know-how”—unpatentable or unpatented; may be
highly personalized skill that can only be taught in person; managerial or
technical expertise even if not unique.  Similar
non-definitional definitions given by others. 
“Almost invariably includes trade secrets”—a common phrasing in the 1960s.
Tacit knowledge was part of the definition. Every article discussing know-how
emphasized how hard/impossible it was to define, but still tried to do it.  “An amorphous, ill-defined glob of
technology, … ever changing, like a stream of water flowing through a fish pond
… like a cloud in the sky that forms, dissolves, forms again, shapes and
reshapes as the atmospheric conditions change.” 
Much legal interest anyway—spike in the 1940s in legal literature, up
into the 60s and 70s, then a relative decline (but note that law literature
grows a lot; absolute numbers stabilize rather than decline).
 
Legal discourse: unfair competition—an uncomfortable fit. Is
know-how property? Not all of it was secret; tried to redefine secrecy to be as
broad as possible, or misappropriation. 
General consensus was that know-how had all the necessary
characteristics of property: could be sold, taxed, assigned, etc.  IRS case: they cared whether it was capital
asset being sold or was it a personal service w/people going abroad?  IRS had its own taxation jurisprudence.  Is know-how akin to patents?  Courts were more familiar w/patents; easier
fit if you could have a simple analogy.
 
Antitrust: in background, along w/founding of Fed. Cir. in
1982.  Know-how would never expire,
unlike patents.  Monopoly problems?  SCt said that trade secret law was enforceable
despite patent law; but litigants argued that it was acceptable b/c it only
dealt w/ misappropriation of secret knowledge—the idea of know-how got shrunk
down to trade secrets; shift to advocating for Uniform Trade Secrets Act.  Know-how is still out there; licenses are
still out there.  European laws cover
know-how; talk about it at least as much as trade secrets, maybe more.  But American courts don’t know what to do
w/it unless reducible to trade secrets.  Developing
countries saw accessing know-how from the West as a way to get around being
enslaved by unusable patents/exploited by companies who set up turnkey
factories whose employees would never learn how to run the plant if the company
left.  Important in discussions of trade
secrecy and technology transfer to keep a focus on changing understanding of
what that means.
 
Q: status of different types of knowledge—shift to data and
statistics—is that part of the picture? 
Is the patent part of knowledge overemphasized from a policy
perspective, esp. in relation to the development agenda?
 
A: Yes, you’ll be shocked that I think the stuff I study is
more important than has been recognized by other people. J
Patents are easy to count, so people use them to measure innovation, and
measure effects of things like changes in enforceability of noncompete
agreements on patents. But businesses find patents to be relatively narrow,
sometimes useful and sometimes not.  Some
know-how is patentable but people didn’t want to spend the money; didn’t want to
deal w/int’l issues; didn’t want to disclose. 
 
Michael Madison: once you’ve identified something of value,
temptation is to ask “how do we protect it?” but that’s often not the most
interesting question.
 
A: yes, I come out of history of science, technology
embedded in human experience. 
 
Jessica Silbey: IP lawyers use the word know-how but wouldn’t
tell me how they used it in their contracts. 
Hard to figure out what they meant, but they in were signalling to the
people they were negotiating with about the status of their client, rather than
about transfers.  Can be reputational.
 
A: Many modern know-how agreements aren’t strongly premised
on enforceability in court.  We probably
can’t prove you didn’t give us the know-how but it’s an element we can hassle
about.
 
Brent Salter (Yale) | Copyright, Authority and the American
Theatrical Impresario (1896-1926)
 
Theater literature charts contests over copyright authority
through an economic frame of reference, but issues of artistic control in
contractual practices; emergence of right of integrity shows how control was
asserted.  Critical actor facilitating
movement of copyright is the cultural intermediary/entrepreneur in different guises—producers,
agents, publishers, acting as symbolic bankers proclaiming the value of the authors
they defend.
 
Intermediary not just as facilitator of movement of
creativity, but also opportunistic, inefficient, counterintuitive—gap between
production and consumption.  Sustained
attempts to expand rights to authors, successful on legal level, but market was
still in chaos.  Schuberts’ syndicate
created a system in which they were in central position for publication,
theatrical adaptation, traveling production, and ultimately film adaptation.
 
Younger playwrights suffered, according to historical
consensus—alleviating risk required more generic works and tested authors.
1926: writers’ minimum basic agreement. 
One area of significant inconsistencies is subsidiary film rights.  Theater literature IDs 7 examples around 1925
of producers taking control; but in the syndicate/Schubert collection, there
are examples from 10 years earlier.  Fox
Film Corp.: galvanized dramatists/minimum basic agreement where one had failed
three previous times.  But even more
striking about pre-1926 contractual relationships is emergence of contested
clause about artistic control, not present in late 19th century.
What’s contested is the integrity of the work. 
Attribution clause in contracts appears uncontested—author must be ID’d
in all publicity, except in employer/employee relationships.
 
Sample of 300 contracts: either silent on artistic control,
38% (no clause about changes to text); 20%–clear the playwright has control
over additions/changes to script and may also control casting or other
production aspects; 15% tries to find middle ground (balanced clause: author’s
consent required to make changes, but consent must not be unreasonably
withheld; or requires acceptance of changes made of necessity); 27%–contracts
where it’s clear the producer has control/express right to change the text w/o
author consent.  Some contracts just
cross out the playwright control clause; others add language. Dramatists’ Guild
claimed ability to negotiate favorable terms highly dependent on experience—but
the empirical evidence is bumpier than that. 
There are some examples where pro-writer contract was late in career,
some were able to negotiate control early in career.  Strong pro-producer clauses also came both
late and early in careers.  Many
contracts exist where the playwright only has one or two productions after—perhaps
the artistic climate was a deterrent to continuing work. May be some
correlation b/t experience and negotiation power, but far from conclusive: much
more flexible. 
 
There is a correlation between significant changes in
scripts and pro-producer clauses. Not exclusively a writer-driven process, but
continually undergoing modification from contract to contract. Also changed in
the rehearsal room: a product of opportunism but also flexibility that perhaps
wasn’t codifiable.  There was still a desire
to codify, though.  Enshrining a right of
artistic control in the 1926 uniform agreement didn’t result in a more
harmonious or even protective environment. By 1927 Schubert commenced antitrust
proceedings against the Dramatists’ Guild—alleged monopoly of new intermediary,
the trade association.  Schuberts settled
with guild again in 1941.  In commercial
and noncommercial theater, producers continued to contract around the rules for
artistic control, and they’d practice around the rules in the rehearsal room.
 
Writers have struggled to renegotiate labor agreements. What
role is the law playing? © framework assumes authors armed w/bundle of rights
that can be transferred out. History suggests that it’s more constructive to
think about contested information flows, w/© as adjunct/administrative starting
point.
 
Q: to what extent are the contracts reflective of actual
practices?
 
A: I’m looking at the correspondence surrounding these
documents too—scripts that reflect changes; trying to figure out how that
happened. Link scripts to dramaturgical notes to correspondence to say where
authority lies.
 
Legal literature suggests directors lack rights and
playwrights have it all; but the history doesn’t suggest that’s how it works in
practice.  Contemporary theater
literature is strikingly different. Organizational structure—playwright as part
of a company—has a history of contests that lawyers should look more carefully
at, not just the doctrinal issues they are obsessed w/.

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ISHTIP at Penn, part 2

Early Career, Panel 2 | Fiona Macmillan (Birkbeck, University of London), Moderator
 
Monica Huerta (Duke University) | Some Singularities, Like the Human Face
 
Famous Sarony photo of Oscar Wilde: signature at bottom is photographer’s.  Problem of photographic copyright, familiar to literary/photographic critics: is a photographer analogous to a literary author and if so how. Can you discern intent from photos?  Portrait of a person that could be the expression of someone else’s creativity. History of theatrical performance bears on the issue—a shift in acting practices. Undertheorized aspect: debt of history & photography to the theater.
Visible expression of authorship linked to Sarony’s ability to dictate/manipulate otherwise highly personal issue of what Wilde looked like/how he moved/how he positioned his face. Authorship was itself an abstraction known only through its effects on others.
 
Mere reproduction wouldn’t be copyrightable.  Christine Haight Farley discusses history of photography—some photos as reproduction/others as authored—and argued that this distinction served to preserve the evidentiary status of photos uses in legal cases. Relied on Sarony’s arrangement of the scene depicted, not the mere fact that he took a photo.  Photo itself was somewhat beside the point (button pushing).
 
So why was arranging artful enough to qualify for ©? Sarony sought to move beyond conventionality of the pose, which also describes contemporary shifts in theatrical practice from melodrama towards realism. Sarony marketed his business as about attentiveness to posing.  Sarony has a patent for a posing apparatus.  The poses shown do not correspond to any particular conventional emotional state—the point was that Sarony could pose the model in many ways.
 
Shift to realism in acting: how they mobilized actors’ bodies differently on stage in a way that resonates w/Sarony’s arrangement.  Previous ideas of acting: poses corresponded to specific emotional states; involuntary movements should be minimized.  But new theater trained “involuntary” movements and valued “realistic” portrayal. 
 
Sarony may have asked Wilde to soften his eyes/tilt his chin; also may have arranged Wilde’s face outside Wilde’s own control to make Wilde’s image into Sarony’s expression.  Early film directors “produced” expressions in actors through catching them off guard and relying on the camera to catch their involuntary reactions.  Author-function was absent from the objects viewers saw; director became an author—a modern notion. Before then, in the late 19th century, actors often chose their own costumes. Struggle for authorial control had been between playwrights, managers, and actors; but then directors began to have control not just over staging but also over actors’ performances. 
 
Sarony’s arrangement was thought to include arranging Wilde’s facial expressions.  Counsel for the litho. company contended that Sarony couldn’t invent or create Oscar Wilde.  Jane Gaines: Wilde’s face was a “guarantee” of private property. A natural no-trespassing sign. But Gaines treats the face too abstractly.  In Sarony, Justice Miller described purposefully unequal and imbalanced exchange between photographer and photographed.  The ability to distinguish private property from language held in common was a problem in copyright—distinguish language that had become personal enough to be property; the assumption that faces were utterly individual provided unstable but good-enough proof that an author could manipulate language enough to become an owner; the concept of “face” was often invoked to explain/justify originality.  E.g., the discourse included claims that a literary work that is original, like a human face, will always have distinguishing features.
 
Q: industry considers playwrights the authors; directors aren’t given formal legal rights to their work. Does the difference b/t theater, where you have conscious authorship in the form of the playwright, change the equation compared to a photo, where there are no other conscious authors?  You equate photographer with director who imposes vision on subjects.  In photo that ends, but in play you have a separate person also trying to impose vision on subjects, the playwright.
 
A: Contexts of authorship matter: how it is that intention gets traced through various forms, and how it leaves traces/becomes identifiable.  The usefulness of thinking about directors: how arranging is understood as authorship. 
 
Q: does the director become less of an author/coauthor because of the playwright?
 
A: maybe not.  Authorship in a play is the playwright’s when you read it; when you watch a play it doesn’t diminish the authorship of the director.
 
RT: I think that answer is incomplete—the director doesn’t get authorship because we’ve already picked an author and the US is bad at joint authorship through orthogonal contributions.  Rather it seems to be the separation between the person being arranged and his or her own control over self-presentation that lifts authorship up and enables it to be placed somewhere else: actor can also be seen as instrument of playwright—consider discourses about playwrights as authors and their relations to actors.
 
A: yes, what’s interesting is that separation, where the author no longer needs to be identified with her face, as long as there’s some object/face to identify her with.
 
Q: Garcia v. Google: actor couldn’t have copyright in the film—still very contentious. Cultural incapacity to embrace the division between authorship and law (or maybe authorship and embodiment).
 
Douglas O’Reagan (University of California, Berkeley) | Technical Know-How in Postwar Business and Law
 
Know-how and related terms used heavily by businesses (Google nGram), then lawyers were brought in to figure out how to protect it.  1955: Int’l Chamber of Commerce—known how is tremendously valuable subjects of industrial property supplementing patents.  Sought protection in law.  1964: USTA said know-how was the handmaid of progress. Top 40 companies: 25% of all licenses were solely for know-how, not patents; 33% just patents; 42% mixed.  British companies had the same conclusions—patents added in as afterthought to make it seem concrete.  Spread to French, German, etc. as borrowed word incorporated into legal traditions, “das Know-How.” 
 
Didn’t work out in US b/c of SCt decisions in the 1970s that undermined the legal foundation of the right. Even though businesses liked idea of broad thing they could license, lawyers wanted a thing with a definition.  Kingman Brewster, HLS, 1958: called all unpatented information “know-how”—unpatentable or unpatented; may be highly personalized skill that can only be taught in person; managerial or technical expertise even if not unique.  Similar non-definitional definitions given by others.  “Almost invariably includes trade secrets”—a common phrasing in the 1960s. Tacit knowledge was part of the definition. Every article discussing know-how emphasized how hard/impossible it was to define, but still tried to do it.  “An amorphous, ill-defined glob of technology, … ever changing, like a stream of water flowing through a fish pond … like a cloud in the sky that forms, dissolves, forms again, shapes and reshapes as the atmospheric conditions change.”  Much legal interest anyway—spike in the 1940s in legal literature, up into the 60s and 70s, then a relative decline (but note that law literature grows a lot; absolute numbers stabilize rather than decline).
 
Legal discourse: unfair competition—an uncomfortable fit. Is know-how property? Not all of it was secret; tried to redefine secrecy to be as broad as possible, or misappropriation.  General consensus was that know-how had all the necessary characteristics of property: could be sold, taxed, assigned, etc.  IRS case: they cared whether it was capital asset being sold or was it a personal service w/people going abroad?  IRS had its own taxation jurisprudence.  Is know-how akin to patents?  Courts were more familiar w/patents; easier fit if you could have a simple analogy.
 
Antitrust: in background, along w/founding of Fed. Cir. in 1982.  Know-how would never expire, unlike patents.  Monopoly problems?  SCt said that trade secret law was enforceable despite patent law; but litigants argued that it was acceptable b/c it only dealt w/ misappropriation of secret knowledge—the idea of know-how got shrunk down to trade secrets; shift to advocating for Uniform Trade Secrets Act.  Know-how is still out there; licenses are still out there.  European laws cover know-how; talk about it at least as much as trade secrets, maybe more.  But American courts don’t know what to do w/it unless reducible to trade secrets.  Developing countries saw accessing know-how from the West as a way to get around being enslaved by unusable patents/exploited by companies who set up turnkey factories whose employees would never learn how to run the plant if the company left.  Important in discussions of trade secrecy and technology transfer to keep a focus on changing understanding of what that means.
 
Q: status of different types of knowledge—shift to data and statistics—is that part of the picture?  Is the patent part of knowledge overemphasized from a policy perspective, esp. in relation to the development agenda?
 
A: Yes, you’ll be shocked that I think the stuff I study is more important than has been recognized by other people. JPatents are easy to count, so people use them to measure innovation, and measure effects of things like changes in enforceability of noncompete agreements on patents. But businesses find patents to be relatively narrow, sometimes useful and sometimes not.  Some know-how is patentable but people didn’t want to spend the money; didn’t want to deal w/int’l issues; didn’t want to disclose. 
 
Michael Madison: once you’ve identified something of value, temptation is to ask “how do we protect it?” but that’s often not the most interesting question.
 
A: yes, I come out of history of science, technology embedded in human experience. 
 
Jessica Silbey: IP lawyers use the word know-how but wouldn’t tell me how they used it in their contracts.  Hard to figure out what they meant, but they in were signalling to the people they were negotiating with about the status of their client, rather than about transfers.  Can be reputational.
 
A: Many modern know-how agreements aren’t strongly premised on enforceability in court.  We probably can’t prove you didn’t give us the know-how but it’s an element we can hassle about.
 
Brent Salter (Yale) | Copyright, Authority and the American Theatrical Impresario (1896-1926)
 
Theater literature charts contests over copyright authority through an economic frame of reference, but issues of artistic control in contractual practices; emergence of right of integrity shows how control was asserted.  Critical actor facilitating movement of copyright is the cultural intermediary/entrepreneur in different guises—producers, agents, publishers, acting as symbolic bankers proclaiming the value of the authors they defend.
 
Intermediary not just as facilitator of movement of creativity, but also opportunistic, inefficient, counterintuitive—gap between production and consumption.  Sustained attempts to expand rights to authors, successful on legal level, but market was still in chaos.  Schuberts’ syndicate created a system in which they were in central position for publication, theatrical adaptation, traveling production, and ultimately film adaptation.
 
Younger playwrights suffered, according to historical consensus—alleviating risk required more generic works and tested authors. 1926: writers’ minimum basic agreement.  One area of significant inconsistencies is subsidiary film rights.  Theater literature IDs 7 examples around 1925 of producers taking control; but in the syndicate/Schubert collection, there are examples from 10 years earlier.  Fox Film Corp.: galvanized dramatists/minimum basic agreement where one had failed three previous times.  But even more striking about pre-1926 contractual relationships is emergence of contested clause about artistic control, not present in late 19th century. What’s contested is the integrity of the work.  Attribution clause in contracts appears uncontested—author must be ID’d in all publicity, except in employer/employee relationships.
 
Sample of 300 contracts: either silent on artistic control, 38% (no clause about changes to text); 20%–clear the playwright has control over additions/changes to script and may also control casting or other production aspects; 15% tries to find middle ground (balanced clause: author’s consent required to make changes, but consent must not be unreasonably withheld; or requires acceptance of changes made of necessity); 27%–contracts where it’s clear the producer has control/express right to change the text w/o author consent.  Some contracts just cross out the playwright control clause; others add language. Dramatists’ Guild claimed ability to negotiate favorable terms highly dependent on experience—but the empirical evidence is bumpier than that.  There are some examples where pro-writer contract was late in career, some were able to negotiate control early in career.  Strong pro-producer clauses also came both late and early in careers.  Many contracts exist where the playwright only has one or two productions after—perhaps the artistic climate was a deterrent to continuing work. May be some correlation b/t experience and negotiation power, but far from conclusive: much more flexible. 
 
There is a correlation between significant changes in scripts and pro-producer clauses. Not exclusively a writer-driven process, but continually undergoing modification from contract to contract. Also changed in the rehearsal room: a product of opportunism but also flexibility that perhaps wasn’t codifiable.  There was still a desire to codify, though.  Enshrining a right of artistic control in the 1926 uniform agreement didn’t result in a more harmonious or even protective environment. By 1927 Schubert commenced antitrust proceedings against the Dramatists’ Guild—alleged monopoly of new intermediary, the trade association.  Schuberts settled with guild again in 1941.  In commercial and noncommercial theater, producers continued to contract around the rules for artistic control, and they’d practice around the rules in the rehearsal room.
 
Writers have struggled to renegotiate labor agreements. What role is the law playing? © framework assumes authors armed w/bundle of rights that can be transferred out. History suggests that it’s more constructive to think about contested information flows, w/© as adjunct/administrative starting point.
 
Q: to what extent are the contracts reflective of actual practices?
 
A: I’m looking at the correspondence surrounding these documents too—scripts that reflect changes; trying to figure out how that happened. Link scripts to dramaturgical notes to correspondence to say where authority lies.
 
Legal literature suggests directors lack rights and playwrights have it all; but the history doesn’t suggest that’s how it works in practice.  Contemporary theater literature is strikingly different. Organizational structure—playwright as part of a company—has a history of contests that lawyers should look more carefully at, not just the doctrinal issues they are obsessed w/.
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ISHTIP at Penn, part 1

International Society for the History and Theory of
Intellectual Property (ISHTIP) Program 2015
 
Center for Technology, Innovation, and Competition (Penn
Law) and the Cinema Studies Program (Penn Arts and Sciences)
 
Early Career, Panel 1 | Peter Jaszi (American University),
Moderator
 
Megan Rae Blakely (University of Glasgow) | Intellectual
Property and Intangible Culture Heritage in Celtic-derived Cultures
 
Intangible side of IP: owning rights.  We think of developing countries as having
culture and developed as having knowledge, but that is a false binary.  Intangible cultural heritage: there’s a quote
saying the UK has none to protect. 
 
Tangification: the process of tangible propertization of ICH—ossified
and stuck, prevented from evolving and being practiced. 
 
1970 World Heritage Convention: European focused, monuments
etc. Berne/TRIPS: conventional IP.  2003
ICH Convention: response to 1970 convention, used language of safeguarding
rather than propertizing and protecting. 
2003 definition was very broad: practices, expressions, knowledge,
skills, instruments, objects, artefacts, cultural spaces, etc. ICH is
constantly recreated by the practicing community and must be allowed to evolve.
Festivals, performing arts, social practices, etc. Would have to alter it to
protect it with IP, which is our default way of protecting things.  US, UK and Ireland are not signatories to
2003 convention, which imposes obligation to list/index ICH; promote awareness,
education, and int’l participation; urgent safeguarding of ICH at risk of dying
out.
 
ICH provides identity and continuity; continuous recreation.
Tangification comes out of IGH, with fixation and ossification and closed-list
definitions. Tangification is prerequisite to propertization—necessary but not
sufficient for propertization.  Likewise
propertization is necessary but not sufficient for commodification, and
commodification is necessary but not sufficient to become a commodity/lose
cultural meaning.
 
Don’t need propertization even w/tangification and value.
Tartan: repurposed to represent clans. 
Now there’s a registry for tartan, run by gov’t, taken back from
clans.  Wales: Eisteddfod, a language,
dance, singing festival—Welsh was removed from courts in 1500s; not until last
century was Welsh brought back into legal system and education. Ireland:
tourism promotion—when does it become commercial cultural branding?  What it means to be Irish as a
tourism/government priority as opposed to community practices of ICH.
 
Recognize power of legal categorization on diverse forms of
ICH; create level playing field.
 
Fiona Macmillan: ICH is often understood as resistance to
power; lists of ICH are almost entirely used by developing countries. There is
often an interest in tourism.  As IP
scholars, we always think of commodification through propertization.  But tourism is through another mechanism.
 
Xan Sarah Chacko (University of California, Davis) |
Protective Pictures: The Role of the Image in Plant Patents
 
What counts as patentable material has changed with the law,
science, and technology. Images have gone from color photos to electrophoresis
images of specific gene markers that allegedly produce the result.  Tracks changes in illustration: shift from
pure description to explication of the underlying innovation in the images. How
do patent visuals fit into longer history of representation in scientific
discourse?
 
1930 Plant Patent Act: 17 years of exclusivity for new
varieties of asexually propagated plants. Images of plants provide proof of
uniqueness: patentability is based on novelty; inventors didn’t have to show
method of production, only the novel features. Examining procedure: They were
supposed to be artistic/competent, not mechanical drawings, and faithfully
represent the appearance of the plant and disclose its distinctive
characteristics capable of visual description. Drawings strictly adhered to
because they formed the claim.  Most
plant patents in this period were roses: image was crucial to show novelty. US
breeders created fewer new varieties after 1930 compared to before, looking at
horticultural societies’ registration systems which were used to make priority
claims. Rise of color photography: color had to be depicted if color was
claimed as part of the plant.
 
1970: Plant Variety Protection Act: Visualization of disease
resistance is shown by a table. 
Visualization as comparison: shows size of seeds, for example.  Photograph takes on value, but not
objectivity. Optical consistency alleviates the burden of objectivity; the main
objective is to have matching, not naïve realism.
 
1980: Diamond v. Chakrabarty: Tomato plants exhibiting
continuous light tolerance—method; plant; gene may all be controlled—genotypic information
is part of the patent, showing sequences of genetic markers. New kinds of
representation. But even in 2012, we have older forms of representation with images
of a cherry including a cut-open cherry, calling back to the tradition of still
lives.  Romantic reference? Most of the
pages of the application for the cherry are filled w/DNA code.
 
Q: how were drawings used to establish scope of claim and
full disclosure of the claim through the image?
 
A: In the first act, the disclosure is the image—even in the
text, they can’t tell you how they produced this particular variety—it could
have been found in a field.  1970s:
post-genomic world it is the genes that are referenced, even if the attribute
is color, height, etc. 
 
Silbey: what do the outtakes and drafts look like before the
patent is filed?
 
Henrique Carvalho (Birkbeck, University of London) |
Drahos’s Ontological Skepticism: Ontological skepticism = reluctance to believe
in existence of IP objects.  Cariou v.
Prince: most interesting part of litigation for him was Prince’s deposition,
which at times read as an Abbott & Costello Who’s On First routine.  (Note that there are copyright claims around
that routine!)  Prince claims it’s a
painting, not a scanned photograph.  He
painted the features “on” the photograph. 
He rephotographed images: a “real” photograph, not an image I torn out
of the magazine.  He claims it wasn’t a
photo of a photo, but a photo of a page. Lawyer and artist use the same word in
different senses.  Of course Prince is a
prankster, but the gap between them is deeper. 
Carve reality up differently.
 
Intangibles are abstract objects.  But they “exist.”  Hard to measure, control, evaluate—hard to
believe in?  Peter Drahos was not the
first to express skepticism, but did so in articulate and detailed way.  Stakes his skepticism in Philosophy of IP by
explaining that property rights entail relations between two people and between a person and an object. But
in IP abstract objects are a convenient legal fiction, expanding the commodity
production possibilities of capitalism.
 
Drahos asks: by recognizing IP rights, is the law forced to
recognize “spooky” entities, universals, Plato’s eternal forms. Gives two
alternatives: either only particulars exist and universals are just convenient
fictions/mental projections (the Stoic alternative). Or abstract objects exist
and aren’t reducible to particulars. 
 
Stoics: they would have us say that universals don’t exist
but are still real/subsist in particulars. But that’s hard to understand.  This is a difficulty with the Stoic
position. 
 
Type/token: artifacts could be tokens—pieces of paper marked
with ink; while type is the abstact object, a particular novel. Two different
concrete objects are still the “same novel.” 
Nothing spooky about these types. If we say John and Paul are wearing
the same tie, we don’t mean that a piece of cloth holds their necks together.
We don’t need to believe there is a platonic tie somewhere in another realm of
existence to make the type/token distinction. 
Types don’t have a specific spatial/temporal location; but they don’t
have to be “elsewhere.”  They have
multiple tokens/are repeatable. And they may have some spatiotemporal properties:
date of creation.  Types can share
material predicates w/their tokens, such as “being made of silk.”
 
Drahos dismisses a philosophical approach because it doesn’t
connect existential concerns over abstract objects to questions about
power.  Drahos implicitly still sides
w/the realists/denies abstract objects exist. 
Suspension of disbelief has material consequences in decisions on
infringement, in which judges/YouTube algorithms are called on to determine
whether an item is plaintiff’s work. 
Abstract objects serve as the basis of identity judgments.  Using fictional entities = judgments are
actually pragmatic/based on convention. But abstractness comes in degrees: it
could be not-concrete, or it could be vague. 
Identity criteria used in making judgments are key.  Drahos says: Identity conditions of abstract
objects are themselves matters of conventional judgments.  But: We need not deny the existence of
abstract objects, nor to say that without law all there is are physical
objects, to reach this conclusion.
 
Mike Madison: what seems to matter in your framing is
pragmatics of legal constructions of objects w/in legal systems v.
constructions of objects in art worlds, tech worlds, etc. That’s where the
interesting stuff will be—Kevin Collins has written about the type/token
distinction. Practical payoff will be most interesting/usable for this
community of scholars.
 
Omri Rachum-Twaig (Tel Aviv University) | Genre Theory and
Copyright Law: The Common Building Blocks of Creativity
 
Genre as speech act: semantics, syntax, and pragmatics: a
system of rules underlying creative activity or works of authorship.
Institutional approach to genre: shared social conventions. Analogical
approach: genre as biological species or family resemblance—can evolve over
time.
 
Genre theory refers to common building blocks of text
(including music, visual arts, any type of meaningful object); genre theory
sees these building blocks as basis for creative activity. One perspective:
author’s—give the necessary tools and constraints for authors to create to
begin with. (Cognitive psych understanding of genre.) Also as meaning making
tool from audience’s perspective. Allows audience to extract meaning out of
creative products and to attach value ot them. 
Both ideas and expression can be building blocks for development and
creation of genres.
 
Case study: detective story. Edgar Allan Poe v. Arthur Conan
Doyle. Very well documented development of genre, still existing and growing; has
two central and dominant “first” authors who are chronologically proximate. Similarities
b/t Poe’s Dupin & Doyle’s Holmes: dualities—detective and companion; detective
combines imagination of poet/mind of mathematician; no interest in intimate
relationships; heavy pipe smoker, enjoys long strolls at night, connected to
prefect of police; uses logical deduction. Similarities exist both at high and
low levels of abstraction—the Locked Room Mystery appears in both detectives’
stories: Murders in the Rue Morgue: murder in upper floor apartment, locked
room; window shut closed after murderer fled; in Poe the murderer is orangutan
from Southeast Asia accompanied by a French sailor and in Doyle it’s an
Aboriginal “little black man” from Southeast Asia accompanied by a former
British Marine soldier. Given today’s copyright, he thinks this would be
copyright infringement. Cf. Salinger.  (I
don’t agree—if you look at all the movie cases, these similarities are unlikely
to be enough, though it might make it past a motion to dismiss.)
 
Implications: mismatch b/t legal norm and creativity—genre theory
supports the use of expression as common building blocks.  Help rethink normative justification for
derivative works; challenges conceptual separation between derivative works and
reproductions.  (I think we should
reserve derivative works for translation into new mediums, for much this
reason.)
 
Q: market dynamics: massive increase in pulp detective
novels, for example. The sensation novel is a branch.  Very popular translated (French) author (sp?)
into English.  There’s a question of how
publishers work, how these works are being marketed, how the contracts are
worded.  Underpinning the typology is
economic relations that produce/reproduce genre characteristics. Copyright
suppresses that discussion through fetishization of originality.
 
A: Agrees there were precedents but Poe and Doyle were well
known and very close in their stories. 
Looking for inner reasons/processes of author when s/he chooses,
consciously or unconsciously, to use specific types of previous knowledge
whether idea or expression.  (But that’s
not distinct from economics.  Dickens got
paid by the word; Dumas by the line—and now you know something about why their
distinctive styles are the way they are. 
Today, publishers happily tell their good authors which types of books
are selling and get them to write those types of books—I know of many
examples.)

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